Chapter 47: Dean under the pavilion

This last spring rain was not heavy. The falling raindrops fell to the lake, causing ripples one after another. After the layers swayed, they melted together, and it was no longer possible to tell which one was the rain and which one was the lake water.

The girl holding an oil-paper umbrella stood on the path. In fact, it was a wooden bridge that was not very spacious.

Standing in the middle of the wooden bridge, looking at the rain scene, it was actually very beautiful,...