Menglong

The rain in the Dragon Kingdom has always had a heaven-shaking momentum. The leaden gray clouds were so low that they seemed to crush the entire city. Thunder exploded in the sky, like the roar of an ancient beast. Raindrops hit the glazed tiles intensively, splashing layers of water mist, which formed a waterfall along the eaves and washed the bluestone road in the courtyard. The rain curtain blurred the pavilions and pavilions in the distance, shrouding this Tang mansion, which has been inherited for hundreds of years, in a gloomy mist. In the luxurious bedroom, the golden nanmu bed was covered with soft brocade bedding, but seven-year-old Tang Xiao curled up like an abandoned kitten. His little face was burning red, and the wet wipes on his forehead had already been warmed by body temperature. His mother, Lin Wanru, was sitting by the bed, changing the wet wipes over and over again. When her fingertips touched her son's hot skin, her eyes couldn't help but turn red. Her movements were as gentle as if she was afraid of disturbing the sleeping butterfly, but with an unconcealable eagerness. Every change was like a race against time.