"Archer, don’t think about sneaking off with ," Hannah said, plucking at the long hairs on the carpet.
Archer tied a butterfly knot on a rope, "I won’t."
After tying her hair up, Hannah shook her head from side to side, then slowly turned around while pulling the quilt, "But you secretly tracked last ti."
The firelight made the young girl’s eyes exceptionally bright.
Like mirrors, they reflected people’s truest selves.
Archer dared not look into her eyes and instead stared at the fire. "Did I?"
"Yes, you did," Hannah tugged on his sleeve. "It was the ti I picked you up, and you pretended to be Maiden Snail, even baked sweet potatoes for ."
As his sleeve was tugged, Archer could only turn his head.
The youth’s features were delicate, though not fully mature, they still possessed a raw, charming beauty under the warm light.
"I didn’t pretend to be Maiden Snail," he explained in a light, helpless tone.
It was Hannah who first ntioned Maiden Snail, forcing him to pretend for a while.
Hannah shook her head, "It’s alright, I’m not mad at you because I like Maiden Snail."
Because she would quietly make dinner, creating surprises.
She liked surprises.
Archer couldn’t help but smile.
The night was quiet.
Hannah soon fell asleep leaning on Archer’s shoulder.
Archer didn’t dare move, just kept his stiff posture.
It wasn’t yet dawn.
When Archer woke up, Hannah was gone.
The place for clothes was a ss, the red cloak missing.
It was snowing outside.
Archer quickly got up, trying to open the door, only to find it locked.
Hannah had said she wouldn’t let him follow and must have found a way to lock him in.
...
The cold wind blew the snow, blanketing the long road ahead.
Ice ford on the bare trees on both sides, their most beautiful display of the year.
In a world of ice and snow, a bright red appeared like a sprite accidentally entering the human realm.
The sprite carried a lantern, stepping into the snow.
She lifted her head, revealing a sweet smile and shiny black eyes.
People then realized she was not a sprite, but a little witch.
The little witch sang a song without words, just replacing them with "la la la."
Her voice sounded crisp and pleasant in the snowy landscape.
The cold wind from afar didn’t scatter her singing.
She walked towards the east.
Seventeen had been following her all along.
From a distance.
Hannah’s red cloak was so conspicuous that even from afar, there was no worry of losing sight of her.
Seventeen didn’t know where Hannah was going today, but he knew that the boy nad Archer was left alone in the stone house.
He should have taken this opportunity to notify others.
But he hesitated, and after a mont’s hesitation, he chose to follow Hannah’s steps.
In past winters, like today, Hannah also went out once a month.
To the east, to make exchanges.
He lost track of her on the narrow path she walked.
He didn’t wander off but hid in a corner waiting for Hannah to reappear.
This was the only way back to the refugee area.
An hour later, Hannah reappeared.
She still carried her favorite pumpkin-shaped lantern in her hand.
Humming a song, she looked very happy, only her cloak’s hood was too large, covering most of her face.
At this mont, Seventeen felt like a reptile hiding in a dark ditch, carefully peering at the moonlight and starlight through the cracks.
Snowflakes fell again between heaven and earth.
There was no one else on the road.
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