Raindrops gently tapped the ground in a rhythmic pattern.
Along with this tranquil sound, Qing Yuan's mind also calmed down.
Beside the street, washed clean by the rain, stood a lone wooden table.
It seemed to be forgotten here.
The table surface was wet from the rain, its edges revealing the grain of the wood more clearly due to the moisture, showing signs of age.
A few leaves with raindrops on them lay lifelessly on the table. Rainwater pooled into small puddles around the table legs, reflecting the dim yellow streetlights and the occasional shadow of a passerby.
The flag bearing "Chen Banxian" that should have hung by the side was missing, and the fortune-telling man from that day was also gone.
This was expected by Qing Yuan.
After all, today was not a day suitable for setting up a stall outside.
But this also left Qing Yuan somewhat disappointed.
His feelings were conflicted; he was both afraid to get closer and yet yearned to do so.
