Jiuxiao Fox Lord and Pretty Goddess

The rain in March is like broken glass beads, crackling on the bluestone. The white man huddled beside the mottled bridge pillars, his black cloak already soaked by the rain and clinging to his body wetly. She stared at her white fingertips, secretly regretting that she shouldn't have gathered all her immortal power for the patrol of the Heavenly Hidden Soldiers - now she couldn't even figure out the rain-avoiding technique.