Fucheng's old street, quiet and serene.
The artificial drizzle pattered down, with reflections of a flamboyant pink tree crown mirrored in the puddles.
Burdened with a task, Miss Di Zhuomala held a bone umbrella and yawned in boredom, unable to visit the big dragon.
As today's weather ritualist, she felt somewhat bored; in fact, she never considered this job meaningful from the start.
Fucheng, blessed by the Holy Tree, always maintained eternal spring, with underground water sources never drying up.
Thus, in her view, rain was entirely unnecessary.
But whenever Di Zhuomala asked, Granny always dismissed her with phrases like 'Rain is interesting, understanding the seasons helps comprehend the human world.'
And she urged Di Zhuomala to continue this dull temporary role called weather ritual.
About this tedious work, besides rain, phenomena like snow, thunder, hurricanes, shark tornadoes, and other bizarre weather were also part of their weather ritual duties.
