Yixing is dozing off next to the cafe window, the sound of the rain pelting hard against the glass lulling him to sleep. It’s late into the evening but the sky is darker than usual, lighting up every few minutes with a thunderous rumble that stirs the air every time. It’s raining so hard that the small cafe is empty save for Yixing and the old man reading behind the counter, the rustling of turning pages and the whirring of machines the only noises coming from inside the small shop.