Ethan was awakened by the sound of rain.
He opened his eyes and saw a dense curtain of rain in front of him, creating countless tiny bubbles on the waterlogged bluestone ground. On the stone steps two or three steps away from his toes, small pools of water worn out by years of trampling were rippling with moonlight.
Ethan, who had just woken up, was a little confused. He was clearly not sitting under the eaves, and it had been raining for so long, but his body was neither wet nor cold.
After he rubbed his sore eyes, he found that there was a huge oil-paper umbrella above his head. Rain was flowing on the umbrella and dripping down the edge.
"Awake?"
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