It’s cold. Take good care of yourself, because I won’t borrow your coat or hug you.
Winter morning, I just want to hide quietly in the quilt, motionless.
There is a kind of yearning to see, there is a kind of cold called do not wear autumn pants.
It’s cold and I don’t want to talk, but I live like a joke.
No matter how much you wear, you will still freeze to death without me.
If winter does not return your information, it is really not my cold, but my hands.
Cold on a word, the rest with shivering and snot instead.
It’s cold. It’s time to buy clothes, open Alipay, forget it, I can carry it.
When it’s cold, I refuse everything that has nothing to do with bed.
Instead of asking me if I’m cold, I’d better buy some clothes with a huge sum of money.
The recent weather, how do you feel I’m in the fridge.
Don’t make a circle of friends when it snows. Tell me secretly when the money is down.
Winter is the most rogue, always on my hands and feet.
They laugh that I dress like a zongzi, I laugh that they are frozen like a grandson.
Whenever the feet are cold, they want to borrow the wind and fire wheel of Nezha to make it.