At dawn, a heavy rain suddenly fell, beating the earth and the woods, as if venting dissatisfaction in its heart. The rain washed away the dirt on the land, as well as the traces and scents left by people on the ground, yet it brought great trouble to Luo Zheng and his companions in their hurried march.
The squad stopped on a wind-sheltered slope. Surrounding them were hills, not very high, but with severe desertification that left them bare. In many places, not even a blade of grass could be seen, only rocks and dirt exposed on the surface. The loose soil on the slopes was sliding downward with the rain.
The heavy rain blurred the view ahead, seriously affecting the march. The five formed a circle, and the Scholar looked at the Farmer's injury and spoke with concern, "This rain doesn't seem like it will stop soon, and the Farmer's wound could be affected. What should we do next? I want to hear your opinions first."
