The rain has stopped.
Just this morning, the torrential downpour that lasted all night came to an abrupt halt, as if someone had turned off a faucet.
The clouds dispersed, the clear sky and the sun reappeared, reclaiming their dominion over the earth.
Zhang Yuan stood in the courtyard, once again experiencing the sensation of sunlight on his face, his mood brightening considerably.
That Old Man Kou was really accurate; it stopped just after five days.
Bang! Bang!
At this moment, the courtyard door was banged loudly: "Brother Zhao Yun, open the door, it's Qu Hong!"
Zhang Yuan's good mood was immediately dampened.
He went to open the door with some annoyance, frowning as he asked, "What now?"
To be honest, Zhang Yuan was growing fonder of Old Man Kou than the steward of the West Mountain Collection.
Old Man Kou seemed quite sly, but he actually understood the art of maneuvering, and his later visit left a good impression.
