The rain in Jiangnan seemed unpredictable, drizzling down through the gaps in the willow leaves. Although no rain penetrated Yue Yan's oiled-paper umbrella, droplets trickled continuously along its rim, quickly merging into threads of water that formed a beaded curtain woven from a watery mist.
Yue Yan reached out and gently helped the woman before her to her feet, her slender fingers brushing against the woman's pulse as she asked gently, "Are you alright? Why are you still outside so late?"
The nighttime in Wucheng had its lanterns, too, but amidst this nocturnal rain, they appeared dim, flickering, and devoid of luster.
Chapter 178