Drip, drip, one slow, one fast.
Water droplets on the eaves teetered on the brink of falling, gathered sufficient weight, and then shattered with a crisp sound upon the moss-covered steps, creating a fleeting bloom. The water accumulated in the courtyard reflected fragmented clouds, which, once disturbed, became a blurred expanse of sky light.
Inside, the light was far from bright.
The dim light fell on half of Wei Zhao's side face, one half illuminated, the other adrift in shadow, as if a tumultuous emotion lay dormant within.
Wei Zhao half-reclined by the bedside, as if her sobs still echoed by his ears, soothing her slender back with just the right amount of strength.
The girl in his arms, perhaps from exhaustion, had been coaxed into slumber, though traces of tears still lingered.
The emotion in Wei Zhao's eyes gradually faded to nothingness.
He gently wiped her face with a damp cloth and then tucked the blanket around her.
