This was the happiest day Lin Shilan had experienced in a long time.

She and Tan Jin seemed to have endless things to talk about—she never knew she could be so chatty.

Leaving the hospital, it was raining outside.

They held their umbrella and wandered around aimlessly, chattering away as they walked.

“Look quick, isn’t that car passing by from our county?”

“Not necessarily—cities have those kinds of cars too.”

“Really? We thought only our place had those green minibuses.”

“Did you see that auntie with the vegetable basket over there?”

“I saw her, I saw her! Do you know her?”

“Yeah, I attended her funeral. She was a distant relative on my dad’s side.”

“Ha, there’s a rice cooker floating through the sky.”

“Wow! It really is.”

Lin Shilan had 500 degrees of myopia. In the past, she avoided the supernatural phenomena during rain like the plague—in such weather, she always disliked wearing her glasses. Now, she proactively widened her eyes, treating the things happening around her as spectacles to observe for the first time.

Along the way, whenever either of them discovered something amiss, they would call the other over to join the excitement, like playing a real-life version of a two-player spot-the-difference game.

Not only that, as they played, they were also subtly competing over who could find things faster and more accurately.

Lin Shilan’s eyes were searching around when Tan Jin’s side found something again.

He pointed ahead: “Do you see that dilapidated building across the street?”

“You mean the gray one?”

A dangerous building self-constructed by village residents was stacked crookedly atop a newly opened furniture store. The furniture store was exquisitely decorated, filled with high-end furniture, its lighting a warm, cozy yellow. Wrapped around its exterior, the old building was gray and shabby, with residents upstairs drying clothes—the clothesline hung full of garments. A pair of bright red underpants happened to be draped over the store’s promotional sign, blocking the roof radical of the character for “installation” in “door-to-door installation.”

“Hahaha, door-to-door women’s clothing.” Tan Jin doubled over laughing.

He truly had a deep love for terrible puns. She hadn’t found it particularly funny at first, but was amused by his rooster-crowing laughter.

Wandering aimlessly until evening, Lin Shilan needed to return to her university dormitory before lights-out.

Speaking of which, there was an even more coincidental matter.

Upon asking Tan Jin, she learned their universities were very close to each other.

So they could take the same bus back to the university district.

On the bus, a small screen played the local TV station’s weather forecast: “From Monday to Thursday, rainfall will continue throughout the city. The provincial meteorological bureau announces that as of this week, our province has fully entered the rainy season—this year’s rainy season began 25 days earlier than in previous years.”

Tan Jin and Lin Shilan listened to this weather forecast in silence.

—It was heavy news. According to the weather forecast’s description, they could return to the past at any moment.

She gazed at the rain on the glass window.

Strong winds blew the rainwater askew; involuntarily, it traced a slanted watermark, sliding down along the window’s edge.

“If we return to the past without being prepared…”

“Then come find me at my house.” Tan Jin answered quickly, as if he’d thought it through long ago.

“My house is across from yours, remember?”

“Alright, I remember.” Lin Shilan approved of his plan.

From the corner of her eye, she glimpsed the slight upward curve of his mouth: “Are you smiling?”

Tan Jin didn’t deny it.

“Never thought there’d be a day you’d come looking for me. In the past when you came to my house, it was always to find my brother.”

Sensing something odd about this statement, but unable to pinpoint exactly what, she let it pass.

“Of course—I wasn’t close with you, so why would I look for you?”

Recalling the time before today, Lin Shilan and Tan Jin’s connection had only one link.

—His brother, Tan Ziheng.

Lin Shilan and Tan Jin were the same age; Tan Ziheng was two years older than them.

Since childhood, Lin Shilan had excelled academically. From elementary through high school, she attended the best schools. And she frequently heard Tan Ziheng’s name from teachers who had taught her and praised her effusively.

Competitions she represented the school in, Tan Ziheng had participated in before her and won awards.

When teachers had her look at past speeches and competition problems, the sample papers she received often bore Tan Ziheng’s name, and the speeches she referenced were likewise written by him.

Although she’d heard of Tan Ziheng early on, she didn’t meet him in person until several years later.

In her second year of middle school, a new building went up across from Lin Shilan’s home. The new building, like the one her family lived in, was employee housing for the petrochemical plant.

Lin Shilan’s father was an old employee of the petrochemical plant. He died when she was very young—her mother said it was due to an accident caused by his misoperation of machinery at the plant. The petrochemical plant compensated them with some money and didn’t reclaim the employee housing originally allocated to their family. Lin Shilan’s mother taught at an elementary school with low wages. The family never managed to save money, so they never moved.

The new building across the way was much taller than the one she lived in. Though both were employee housing, their internal layouts were completely different. All the employees who moved into the new building were from the petrochemical plant’s management level. Lin Shilan’s home was a pitifully small one-bedroom, while the new building consisted entirely of large units—some families even had two-story duplexes.

From the day construction on the new building finished, Lin Shilan would look across whenever she had time.

Those houses were beautiful and spacious. She imagined the people living there must have their own private bathrooms, unlike her who had to use the communal ones downstairs.

With envy and jealousy, Lin Shilan gradually watched the houses across get renovated and furniture moved in.

Then one day after school, she saw lights turn on in that house.

A boy stood on the balcony of the big house, eating potato chips.

White shirt with a blue-edged collar—judging by the style, it was the boys’ uniform from First High School. She looked at him a few more times.

The boy had short hair with his sleeves half-rolled up.

His skin was very fair, his cheeks puffed out as he crunched through the chips with gusto.

An evening breeze passed, he lifted his eyelids, and his gaze fell directly on her face.

Her spying was caught red-handed.

Lin Shilan instantly froze, turning to flee.

But at that moment, the person across spoke, greeting her.

“Hello there!”

“Little miss, do you live across the way?”

She turned back.

That boy was smiling at her.

Lin Shilan had to answer him: “Yes, I live here.”

“What’s your name?”

As he spoke, a short, chubby kid emerged from behind him and snatched away the chips.

“My name is Lin Shilan,” she didn’t forget to ask his: “And you?”

“Me!” The chubby kid answered first: “My name is Tan Jin.”

…

Lin Shilan’s reminiscence was interrupted.

A hand waved before her eyes: “Lin Shilan, Lin Shilan, we’re almost at our stop.”

She turned and saw Tan Jin’s face.

There wasn’t much flesh on his face now—she couldn’t help thinking: He was really fat in middle school.

Tan Jin tilted his head: “Is there something on my face?”

“Nothing.” Lin Shilan withdrew her gaze.

“What were you just thinking about? You seemed very absorbed. I talked to you, but you didn’t respond.”

She told the truth: “I was thinking about your brother.”

“Oh.”

Tan Jin suddenly stood up, startling Lin Shilan.

“What are you doing?”

He pointed outside and said irritably: “We’re at our stop. Get off.”

The bus had just stopped when Tan Jin immediately got off.

Only then did Lin Shilan realize he walked quickly.

Earlier, he’d walked like a crawling snail, and she had to slow down from time to time to accommodate him. Now, his feet seemed to have wheels of wind and fire beneath them, striding swiftly.

“It’s raining! Aren’t you going to use the umbrella?”

Lin Shilan called out to his back, not knowing whether he heard her.

When getting off, rushed by him, she hurriedly ran off the bus with the umbrella not properly opened. One of the ribs was misaligned, blown increasingly bent by the wind, forcing her to stop and fix it.

She forcefully bent it back and forth, but the curved rib wouldn’t budge. Lin Shilan decided to close the umbrella and try again.

A large hand beside her took the umbrella away.

It was the person who’d walked off earlier, now returned.

His fingers pinched twice—seemingly without much force—and that rib obediently returned to its original position.

“Here.” He handed her the fixed umbrella.

Lin Shilan raised the umbrella to a height where he could share it, but saw Tan Jin had put on the hood of his jacket.

Hands in pockets, his expression cool: “It’s just a little rain—too much trouble. You shelter yourself.”

She ignored him and still shared half the umbrella with him.

Tan Jin didn’t walk away either.

He followed alongside her, returning to turtle speed.

“When we go back to the past, is there anything you want to do?” Perhaps Tan Jin was bored and struck up conversation again: “It’s a rare opportunity—why don’t we plan ahead.”

If Lin Shilan didn’t know how terrifying going back was, she would definitely think Tan Jin was going on vacation.

“I don’t want to do anything. I just want to be free of all this and live a normal person’s life.”

Tan Jin didn’t understand her mindset and continued encouraging her: “There must be something—think about it more carefully.”

Upon thinking, Lin Shilan actually did think of something.

The bracelet that broke today was a birthday gift Tan Ziheng had given her. She’d worn it for many years, and now her wrist felt empty—very uncomfortable. Traveling to the past, she wanted to ask Tan Ziheng where he’d bought the gift so she could buy it again.

“After I go back, I’ll visit your brother.”

His steps halted.

“Don’t come to my house!” Tan Jin’s volume wasn’t small.

Lin Shilan looked at him in confusion.

Tan Jin cleared his throat and slightly polished his wording: “I’ll find you! It’s better if I come find you.”

She was puzzled: “Why?”

“Because…”

His voice was barely louder than a mosquito’s buzz—she had to strain her ears to hear clearly.

“Um, once my brother secretly told me…”

“Your brother? What did he say?”

Amid the chaotic sound of rain, she leaned closer to him, her quiet face shrouded in a dewy glow.

Tan Jin’s words became clear: “He said you’re an ugly freak.”

Lin Shilan frowned.

He laughed: “You and my brother don’t get along.”

“That can’t be right?” She found it hard to imagine: “Your brother has always been good to me. Besides, Tan Ziheng doesn’t seem like someone who talks behind people’s backs.”

“That’s because he’s performing.”

Her emotions were complex: “Really?”

“Don’t I know my brother better than you do?”

Tan Jin looked serious: “Anyway, just don’t come over.”

Only the sound of rain could be heard around them.

The two maintained an awkward distance, walking forward silently.

The rain poured relentlessly. The usually lively and bustling university district was now eerily deserted.

“How long have we been walking since getting off the bus?”

“Fifteen minutes?”

She felt something was wrong: “Since we got off, haven’t we not seen anyone?”

“Normally, walking two or three minutes, we’d see shops and vendors along the street. Even on rainy days when no students are out shopping, the stores shouldn’t all be gone.”

Raising the umbrella an inch, before them was a black, boundless curtain of rain.

Where had they walked to?

She was about to discuss with him…

No one was beside her.

The sound of wind howled past, carrying away the umbrella in her hand.

She hurried to pick up the umbrella. The moment she grasped it, the feel of the handle changed. Looking up again, the originally brown umbrella surface had turned light blue.

And ahead, in the darkness of the rain curtain, the outline of a building gradually emerged.

It was Lin Shilan’s high school campus.