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The streets were drenched in a torrential downpour, with lightning flashing and thunder roaring.
Inside the Yuelai Inn, the noise was still deafening, the sounds of toasting and playing mahjong meshing like the chirping of insects on a summer night, forming a constant buzz.
Zhao Cha stood behind Xiao Baoqi, concentrating intently on learning mahjong techniques, her two claws sneaking out to grab a piece of osmanthus cake and then a handful of melon seeds, her little mouth smacking nonstop...
She had only been at the inn for three or four months, and her small face had visibly plumped up, the original, attractive melon seed-shaped face now having baby fat.
Yang Ge, with one hand holding a bamboo basket and the other grasping an oil-paper umbrella, walked from the kitchen to the front hall.
