On the eve of Qixi Festival, Wufu was brandishing a stick in the courtyard with great vigor, while Liu Jin was also imitating the movements nearby.
"Wufu, stop practicing. It's so hot out, and you're still running and jumping around. Aren't you afraid of heatstroke?" Madam Zhou came out of the kitchen with a pot of mung bean soup, frowning at the sight of Wufu, drenched as if he had just come out of the water, still practicing martial arts.
"There's no sun today, it's not too hot." Wufu looked up at a large swath of dark clouds overhead and smiled, saying, "Besides, it looks like it's going to rain soon."
"Miss, are you sure? It's been overcast these past few days, but the rain just hasn't come," Hongyu said, glancing up at the sky.
Without rain, the air turned still, lowering the pressure even more. Even standing motionless, sweat poured down one's face, the oppressive heat causing irritability.
