On the verge of widowhood

Qiao Que hugged her pillow at home and looked outside. It had been raining for three consecutive days.

In less than ten days, it will be the "New Year" of mankind. Pedestrians pass by with umbrellas, and the whole city is enveloped in a kind of relaxation and joy before the festival.

Obviously staying at home is the safest, but he couldn't help but want to rush out the door.

The intuition that he should avoid the change and the rationality tells him that he should face each other are in conflict.

Annoyed, she threw away the pillow she was holding in her hand, and Qiao Que stroked her forehead hair, opened the door and rushed out without looking back.

As soon as he left, a man held an umbrella and stood downstairs of Bai Qing's house. He went upstairs and hung a bunch of keys at the door of Bai Qing's house.