The sky was like a vast expanse of ink-colored satin.
Dark clouds hung low.
Rain in the air interwove into a flowing scroll of painting, where each drop that fell was like a musical note of nature, playing a symphony of the rainy season.
This rain, which had been brewing all afternoon, ultimately fell.
Raindrops, which started as fine as silk, grew into a curtain pouring down.
Many pedestrians on the road had anticipated the rain and timely opened their umbrellas.
However, there was a portion who were thoroughly drenched.
Everyone hastily sought shelter from the rain.
But all of this seemed unrelated to Chen Yun.
He didn't belong to those under umbrellas, nor to those without.
Instead, he was a more special third type.
He just walked quietly on the wet streets.
Even without an umbrella,
there wasn't a single trace of wetness on him.
Despite the fierceness of the rain outside, Chen Yun's clothes remained dry.
