The snow that floated all night finally stagnated and became tired in this cold winter morning, and then turned into snow-white condensate, quietly embellishing the world.

Walking alone in the snow, the noise that the city should have was eliminated by the snow. Suddenly, the raging cold wind rushed into the gap in the clothes, with a sudden shudder and biting cold.

Suddenly attracted by the rising steam not far away, what is the haze in the snow? Following the fog, I quickened my pace. Come closer and you will know everything. An old tricycle, quietly parked on the side of the road, filled with familiar condiments: jam, brown sugar, floss, plus a slightly larger reddish-brown wooden barrel, a typical breakfast shop.

It is a middle-aged woman who runs all this. She was wrapped in a thick cotton-padded jacket and wore a thick apron peculiar to businessmen. The corners of her sleeves had fallen off and she was supported by a pair of plaid sleeves. Because of the cold snow, this unique scenery has stood in the hubbub for a long time in the empty street.

From time to time, she rubbed her face quickly with her hands, and her dark yellow face was even more gaunt. Her feet kept stamping, and suddenly, the snow on the floor disappeared and disappeared under her feet.