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Summary
It’s snowing. Song Lan still remembers the child-like joy with which Xingchen would react to it. They usually made little snowmen that were meant to represent them. Xingchen used to put little sticks behind their backs to simulate their swords, and give the snowman that represented Zichen a grumpy expression. Instead of being annoyed, Song Lan would have smiled at Xingchen, one of his rare and sincere ones. In those moments Xingchen would stare at him with a sweet smile of his own.
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