"Hiss." Zhou Yu shivered. By then, the middle-aged woman who sold Bowl Rice Pudding had got everything packed.
Zhou Yu's back was totally drenched. The sky blue uniform appeared darker in color. Even the hat hung on his back was wet.
"Thank you, Brother Zhou. I'm done. Thank you for your umbrella, thank you," the middle-aged woman carried the pack basket and turned to say that.
"Got it. Go there quickly." Zhou Yu pointed at the rain canopies at both sides.
"All right. I'm going, I'm going." The middle-aged woman walked forward.
And Zhou Yu just held the open umbrella and followed her. Because of his help, the middle-aged woman and her basket didn't get wet in the rain all along.
"Walk quickly. Don't say useless words." Just when the middle-aged woman turned her head and wanted to say something, Zhou Yu's voice sounded again.
