A fine, misty rain, like tufts of ox hair or the tips of needles, drifted down, weaving the entire world into a hazy veil.
Si Jiuyue, dressed in the simplest of coarse linen clothes, gripped an oil-paper umbrella painted with ink-wash bamboo in her right hand, hurrying through the Wooden Courtyard. The bluestone path beneath her feet was already soaked through, pockmarked with shallow puddles. As her cloth shoes splashed into them, specks of muddy water flew up, and in no time, the hem of her skirt and the tops of her shoes were mottled with mud stains.
Finally reaching the door of Fourth Brother’s room, Si Jiuyue raised her hand slightly and tapped gently with the handle of her umbrella. The sound of the knocking rang out with startling clarity in the quiet, rain-misted atmosphere.
Chapter 317