Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock…
Rain threads cascaded off the ancient village's eaves, turning into beads that rolled down the tiles and struck the bluestone pavement, emitting a crisp and melodious sound.
Xiao Man carefully stacked the dry wood he had just gathered and kindled a bonfire. The flames leaped, illuminating his focused face, a glint of relief in his eyes.
"The rain came so suddenly; it was clear just a moment ago, but then dark clouds gathered and it poured forth, almost turning us into drenched chickens."
The brothers huddled close to Shang Jin, sitting beside the bonfire and chimed in, "Thank goodness Lord Shen was here, otherwise we really wouldn't know what to do in the rain."
Whenever Lord Shen's name came up, their tones filled with gratitude.
Had Shen Qing not noticed the change in the weather and used his spiritual power to carry them, finding timely shelter, they would probably still be on the muddy mountain paths, in utter disarray.
