The day had been bright and clear, with skies a brilliant blue, but who could have predicted that night would bring such a torrential downpour? Summer storms always arrive with such haste and volatility; in an instant, rain surged down like an inverted ocean, hammering relentlessly against the eaves and windowsills.
It was midnight. This was a time that should have been spent lulled to sleep by the rhythm of the rain, yet Rong Che, lying in bed, felt not the slightest hint of drowsiness. Perhaps the incessant patter of the raindrops had disturbed his rest, or perhaps it was simply his own restless state of mind.
He tossed and turned in bed, unable to find sleep no matter how he tried.
Chapter 122