Another year of torrential summer rain.
Raindrops the size of beans pelted the top floor of the pavilion, splashing with a crisp sound like rain hitting plantain leaves. The downpour formed a curtain, shrouding the world in mist, which was held at bay by the bamboo blinds on either side of the pavilion.
Shen Ping sat on a wooden chair. To an observer, he appeared to be napping, but in reality, he was observing his virtual panel.
Chapter 564