They’d only walked half the path when suddenly there was a great downpour of rain, falling as if thundering, and the two were stopped halfway along the journey. Li Shiyi and Song Shijiu hid under a lush elm tree, clothes similarly wetted, wrapped soaking and cold around their bodies. Song Shijiu gazed at the water gurgling on the ground, and stretched her head out to gaze at the heavens. “Just now it was a bright and sunny day; it truly is strange and unusual.” Her head suddenly heated, and she drew back her neck, and saw Li Shiyi expressionlessly cover her head with her own hat. Song Shijiu reached her hands up to press against the hat, as if her palms were holding a watermelon. Both people were relatively embarrassed, but heard the sound of long and short whistles coming from not too far away, as if looking for some sort of young animal; that sound gradually drew closer, and it was an incredibly plain tarpaulin umbrella, under which a forty or so year old married woman with one eye a