As I returned, the raindrops had become much smaller.
Yin Zheng was waiting for her from afar at the edge of the woods. Every time, in situations like this, Lu Tong always asked Yin Zheng to keep distance, feeling that it was better to handle certain matters alone and that there was no need to involve others who were unrelated.
Although Yin Zheng had inevitably been drawn into this maelstrom.
By the time they returned to West Street, it was past midnight, and not a soul was on the streets; only the rainwater dripping from the roof tiles left behind a scatter of faded colors on the ground.
Lu Tong and Yin Zheng hurried past the outer yard and into the inner room. Yin Zheng helped Lu Tong take off her cloak.
The White Cloak, soaked by the rain, let drops of water mixed with blood fall to the floor, a burst of blood blossoms staining the snow-white fabric with mottled red flowers, creating a shockingly beautiful sight under the lamp's glow.
