On the next morning, a light rain began to fall. The rain, like silk, descended from the sky; the raindrops were so tiny, and the curtain of rain was so dense, enveloping the surroundings in a layer of mysterious gauze. The rain threads were very fine, very soft, like the floating willow catkins in spring, delicate and continuous.
Yueyao gave the rain gear to An Zhichen, and after An Zhichen left, Yueyao looked at Xiang Wei, who was preparing to go out: "The sky is gray and hazy, let's wait for the rain to stop before you leave." An Zhichen had to go to work and couldn't miss it. Xiang Wei's matter wasn't urgent for the moment.
Xiang Wei said cheerfully: "Didn't you say that walking in the rain has a unique charm? Today I want to try it myself."
Yueyao smiled and said: "Then come back early." An Zhichen rarely returned at noon, and the three sons didn't come home for lunch either; every noon, she had lunch with Kexin.
