When Zheng Qing was a child, he loved splashing through puddles in the rain, and the wet shoes and splashing water always made him feel that life should be lived with such liveliness.
As he grew up, this childish pleasure gradually faded away.
He's not sure exactly when it disappeared—perhaps it was the countless times his shoes got wet and he got scolded by his parents, or maybe it was when he learned in natural science class that rain contains bacteria that can make people sick, or when he read in geography class about acid rain that can corrode buildings.
Surely human skin is not tougher than buildings, so splashing in the rain is not the right choice.
But doing the right thing is often not very joyful.
Just like now.
There are some things he wishes he never knew.
Sitting in the study of Greenhill Mansion, as he watched the drizzly rain outside through the window, he suddenly felt the urge to dash out and splash in the puddles again.
