The rain in Jiangnan was fine like silk, lingering endlessly.
I stood by the third-floor window of the Listening Rain Pavilion, watching the raindrops trickle down the eaves, for a full seven days. The agreed three-month deadline had passed, but Second Meng still had not appeared.
"Patron, will you be extending your stay?" the inn waiter asked, poking his head in at the door.
Chapter 117