Ten minutes later, they took a right turn and went on to a paved road. No puddles could be seen. No rocks to trip over. No greasy mud to care about. Only traffi c with horns and wheels whirling the water around. Several people strode purposefully in the same direction. Their steps were as steady as their umbrellas. As were Mei’s and the boy’s.
Despite the protection of the umbrella, the wind sent some driving rain with cool wetness to their bodies as they advanced towards the Ancient City Wall. The bus station they were heading for was just half a mile away. They kept walking steadily till they arrived at the west gate with a tower. Several snack stands tied with folded shelters dotted the footpath. They crossed through the gate and entered into a busier street. Mei was sometimes slowed by some rickshaw drivers, who desperately tried their luck to get a customer. But Mei carried on walking with the boy, uninterested.
