Rain was supposed to be cold.
In the mortal world, an unexpected autumn squall meant dripping roof edges, muddy cart tracks, damp kindling that refused to catch fire, and the bitter ache of old joints complaining against the sudden chill. Rain fell in torrents. Then, mortal farmers hurried to herd their geese into pens, while street merchants wildly rolled up their straw awnings to protect their sacks of flour from being ruined by water.
The rain that began falling from the eighty-mile sapphire sphere in the stratosphere, however, obeyed none of the gloomy rules of mortal weather.
It began not with thunder or violent gusts of wind, but with a soft, melodic patter that sounded like dry jasmine rice being poured into a woven bamboo basket. From the porous outer membrane of Lin Xiao’s sky body, ten billion liters of purified Primordial Genesis Dew condensed into countless billions of glowing azure droplets.
Each drop was a tiny, self-glowing jewel of packed life-force. As they fell through the high sky layers, they didn’t scatter into chaotic spray. They caught the world-size jet streams, weaving across the high sky in long, shimmering ribbons of turquoise and golden light that encircled the globe from pole to pole.
