The heavy downpour, which moments before had felt like the Heavenly River spilling its waters in reverse, gradually reined in its fury before I even noticed.
Large, bean-sized raindrops fell in a scattered patter at first, grew steadily gentler, and finally faded into silence. Through the thick yet subtly chilling curtains of the carriage, I inhaled. The scent unique to post-rain earth—fresh and raw—seemed reeled in by an invisible hand, threading its way into my nostrils. This fragrance, carrying the earth’s most genuine rustic simplicity along with moisture and freshness, instantly swept away the stifling, oppressive atmosphere inside the carriage.
The earthy tang, mingling with the crisp scent of foliage, grew richer, seeming to remind me that even now, trapped in adversity, all things in this world still followed the laws of nature, breeding new hope after the wind and rain.
Chapter 136