The pleasure boat docked at the shore.
Bai Heng stepped into the rain, boarded the boat, and thanked the boatman.
In truth, the boatmen sailing these waters were no ordinary people, nor did they make their living this way.
Perhaps they had been arranged by the exhibition hall, or perhaps they were simply in the mood and did not mind poling a boat for these important figures.
"It's cold. Go inside."
Bai Heng merely said this softly as he took the oil-paper umbrella from Ruan Mei's hand.
Raindrops pattered down, accompanied by the rustling of swaying branches and leaves, forming a thin curtain of water along the umbrella's edge.
"I know the river water carries a chill, but my constitution is not as frail as that of ordinary women. Naturally, I would not wish to miss such fine spring scenery."
Ruan Mei seemed to show no reaction at all to Bai Heng taking the paper umbrella from her.
She extended a hand, her slender wrist exposed to the rain.
Rain fell, running down that patch of snowy white skin and dripping onto the deck, soaking the aged wood.
She was feeling the flow of the rainwater.
Bai Heng only glanced at her and said nothing. He pulled up his sleeve and, copying her, extended his own hand to catch the rain.
He was in no hurry to explain anything, nor did he immediately state why he had come looking for her, as though nothing had happened.
As the pleasure boat sailed toward the center of the lake, rain slowly slipped through their fingers.
When was the last time the two of them had foolishly caught rain like this?
Several centuries ago, perhaps. Bai Heng was no longer sure.
He only knew that he had been far more childish then than