The old woman hurried over.
The umbrella in her hand had tilted to one side, doing almost nothing to keep the rain off.
Just moments ago, the old man had suddenly shouted, startling her.
Before she could figure out what was happening, he had shoved the umbrella handle into her hand.
She had gone out for a walk with the old man.
They had brought only one umbrella.
The old man had been holding it.
It was only after the old man charged into the curtain of rain that the old woman understood what was happening.
She immediately called after him and hurried to catch up.
She was both worried and annoyed.
At their age?
And he was still so impulsive?
In weather like this...
He'd know how miserable it was once he caught a cold!
By the time the old woman arrived, it seemed the situation was already over.
She held the umbrella over the old man's head—
even though he was already soaked from head to toe.
But it was better than nothing.
Being soaked and staying out in the rain were still somewhat different.
The old woman looked at the man across from them.
A trace of confusion flickered in her eyes.
What was going on?
The man looked rather wretched.
He had no umbrella and was soaked all over.
His hair was plastered to his forehead.
His clothes clung to his body.
What a pity.
They only had one umbrella.
There was no way to give this man one.
Young people were always sturdier than old men and women like them.
The man's bedraggled state from the heavy rain left the old woman unable to tell what had just happened to him.
What had made the old man rush over so