Snow Banquet
[Extraordinary Child, Child's Heart Entering Dreams]
"Mom is waiting for me in that city, but I don't know if I should go and see her."
The boy, Meng Fengxue, was born into a single-parent family and was raised by his father since he was young. Although she didn't have her mother's company, her father's exquisite cooking skills and careful care allowed her to grow up happily. At the same time, she also developed a unique experience of delicious food.
At the end of spring when she was 11 years old, her father suddenly passed away.
His life had suddenly changed drastically, and the wind and snow had collapsed. He refused to face everything.
Growing up in the city, he realized that it was hard to find someone as warm as his father in the city that was like a concrete forest. Only food could temporarily heal his soul. He couldn't help but think about the meaning of his existence.
At this moment, his mother invited him to live in a distant land.
At the beginning of summer, he embarked on a journey to live with his mother. However, he had never made up his mind to truly accept his mother, who was like a stranger.
Thus, during the journey, he kept pausing and turning back. Like a symbol, he could only rely on virtual images and words to build up his mother. He was familiar with the big city he had lived in since he was young, but he was cold. The various events he encountered on the journey were like pulling hands, making him not know where to go.
With a tongue that was sensitive to delicacies, a heart that sincerely felt the world, and the kindness of the people around him. The wind and snow slowly walked on the road to her mother's side.
Could Meng Fengxue find him? What was waiting for him this summer?
The ugly and stupid have the best of it in this world. They can sit at their ease and gape at the play. If they know nothing of victory, they are at least spared the knowledge of defeat. They live as we all should live-- undisturbed, indifferent, and without disquiet. They never bring ruin upon others, nor ever receive it from alien hands. Your rank and wealth, Henry; my brains, such as they are-- my art, whatever it may be worth; Dorian Gray's good looks-- we shall all suffer for what the gods have given us, suffer terribly. Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray