The sky was pitch black, and the rain kept pouring down.
People often describe heavy rain as if it were beads that have broken off a string, continuously falling.
But that's wrong. Real heavy rain isn't broken beads; it's like a string threaded with beads, unending and relentless, pouring down from the sky.
Under the flashes of lightning that split the sky, the water shimmered darkly—a vast expanse, covering everything, steadily approaching.
Those who have never experienced a flood can hardly feel this kind of fear.
Zhaodi held her sister, Brother Si, and escaped to the second floor, temporarily safe.
But her heart was still anxious because she didn't know if the waters would keep rising, if the house beneath her would collapse, or if someone would come to rescue them.
She wanted to run out; it would've been better a little earlier, but now it's too late!
In the darkness, with heavy rain, there was no path outside, no sight of the ditches, just a sheet of water everywhere.
