Tan Jin could feel that Lin Shilan had erected a high wall between him and her.

He’d thought that after these days of being together, the two could become closer, but they hadn’t.

Her way of guarding against people was peculiar. From 100 meters away, you could sense her “strangers keep out” attitude, with mental walls a full 50 meters high; move a bit closer, and you’d find she wasn’t as difficult to get along with as imagined, with protective barriers only 5 meters high by estimation; but when you actually reached her side—good grief—you’d discover all sorts of weapons surrounding her heart, heavily guarded by troops, with that wall extending from the floor up into the clouds in the sky, its end nowhere in sight.

That bland “thank you” of hers was like a basin of cold water poured over his head.

Tan Jin sat by the hospital bed, and even after finishing the apple, he couldn’t find a topic to discuss with her.

Soon after, Lu Xiaorong arrived at the hospital carrying an insulated food container.

She accompanied Lin Shilan to see the doctor for examinations, while Tan Jin, having no reason to stay any longer, went home.

Based on Lin Shilan’s condition, the doctor suggested she remain in the hospital overnight for observation.

After all this commotion, it was getting late.

Lu Xiaorong still had to work tomorrow, so Lin Shilan told her mother to go home and sleep.

Before leaving, her mother gave repeated instructions, telling her to eat something from what she’d brought to fill her stomach after the IV drip finished. She agreed, and only then did her mother leave with peace of mind.

After a day of vomiting, diarrhea, IV drips and injections, she’d finally recovered a bit. Lin Shilan opened the insulated container her mother had brought.

The metal insulated container was divided into left and right sections—the left side held white porridge, the right side… chicken soup.

This scene was truly too absurd. She felt helpless and found it extremely laughable.

Holding the insulated container, she laughed until tears appeared on the hospital bed.

Chicken soup identical to yesterday’s, with that familiar herbal medicine smell. She laughed and laughed, her smile gradually turning cold.

The insulated container was decorated with an exaggeratedly large pink heart. The chicken soup inside was filled with herbs, the chicken meat all from the tenderest parts of the bird. This soup was just like the love her mother had given her all these years—overflowing, with good intentions in excess, while at the same time, completely failing to consider what she needed or didn’t need.

Picking up the spoon, Lin Shilan prepared to drink some white porridge.

A shadow moved beside the hospital bed.

Before she could drink, he took away the insulated container.

“I made egg drop soup for you at home.”

Placing the lunch box he’d brought on the small table by the hospital bed, Tan Jin carried the insulated container as he walked outside.

Lin Shilan asked his retreating back: “Where are you going?”

Without turning his head, he said: “To dump the chicken soup.”

She could smell the light fragrance of egg drop soup wafting from the lunch box. Lin Shilan’s gaze couldn’t move away from it.

A layer of mist covered the glass lid of the lunch box—the soup was hot, freshly made.

It was still raining. She pressed her hand to the lunch box—warm.

The distance from home to the hospital wasn’t close at all.

In a flash, Tan Jin returned.

Seeing her sitting motionless, he helped her open the lid.

Feeling the taut string in her mind snap, Lin Shilan couldn’t hold back.

“Why are you so good to me?”

She fully suspected he had ulterior motives, her tone aggressive.

Tan Jin’s expression was kind: “We’re partners traveling back to the past together. You believe me. You can also see what I see.”

“Even if we are partners, the concern you’ve shown me has far exceeded the scope of partnership.”

There’s no free lunch in the world—Lin Shilan understood this principle, so his unclear and ambiguous efforts on her behalf were something she was even more unwilling to accept.

“Tan Jin, don’t you have a temper?”

She counted on her fingers, listing everything he’d done recently one by one: “At the flower and bird market, I left you behind and walked away. You chased after me and even brought me fruit. I got food poisoning, you carried me to find a teacher, accompanied me to the hospital, and even made me soup. Just because we became partners, you let me boss you around? I don’t remember you being such a friendly person before. All these things you’ve done—have I ever acknowledged you?”

“Mm, that’s your problem,” his expression remained unchanged, neither rushed nor annoyed. “Since you’ve already seen the goodwill I’ve shown, why do you always treat me so coldly?”

Tan Jin was absolutely right—Lin Shilan had a problem.

This was how she’d grown up, stuffy and alone in her own world, with no friends in the past and no friends in the future. She didn’t know how to be partners with people; when they didn’t mesh, she wanted to split up.

But if he wanted to deceive her with that set of lines about partners and trust, Lin Shilan wasn’t stupid either.

“I can’t figure out what you want. I don’t trust you. You’ve lied to me many times.”

In a fit of anger, she used the word “lied,” which was a bit harsh. Actually, many times he just wasn’t forthcoming enough with her, hadn’t achieved complete candor.

Tan Jin raised an eyebrow: “What lies?”

Like many times before, Lin Shilan hesitated to speak.

It was like this. She believed: when one person accuses another of lying, like a cheating husband being accused by his wife, a condition must first be met—your relationship must exist before you have the right to criticize the other person for not telling you the truth.

Therefore, when she chose to confront Tan Jin about the lies he’d told, it meant she acknowledged their partnership. Otherwise, whether he was evasive, contradicted himself, or had other hidden reasons, she had no standing to accuse him of concealment. Because his desire to conceal was his freedom and shouldn’t be her concern at all.

This year was the fourth year of returning to Yan County. No one longed more than her to have a partner.

Everything Tan Jin said and did revealed oddities everywhere. Lin Shilan wasn’t sure if she could trust him.

Her teeth bit her lip viciously enough to leave a mark.

Glancing at that bowl of egg drop soup, for its sake, she relented.

“Fine, then let’s go through them one by one.”

“As I see it, you don’t understand the rules of time travel at all. Things here can’t be brought to the future—that’s the most basic thing, and you didn’t know it. In each year’s time travel, I also haven’t noticed you next door having the kind of abnormal behavior you show now. So I suspect, are you really like me, repeatedly trapped in the past for three years?”

“When we first met, you said your family and friends were all dead. When I asked you later whether your brother was alive, you avoided the question.”

“Also, what’s your relationship with Su Ge? What vow did you make to her?”

He chuckled softly: “So you’re this curious about me.”

Her emotionally exposed appearance was too rare. Tan Jin was in a good mood, smiles piling up in his eyes and at the corners of his mouth.

“If you want to know, I’ll just tell you. Why get angry?”

“You’re right. I don’t have three years of time travel experience. I didn’t deceive you—I never said I was trapped for three years like you. It was last year that I gained the ability to time travel.”

“Su Ge and I are just ordinary classmates. There wasn’t time to explain in detail this morning because class was starting. I don’t know what vow I made, much less know if she was the object of that vow. During this rainy season, she has a crush on me, so I’m guessing I promised her something. It’s just a guess—it could very well be someone else.”

Lin Shilan waited for him to explain away all her doubts. At the very end, Tan Jin told her unhurriedly: “As for my brother… he’s dead.”

—Liar!

She angrily clenched her fists.

This explanation was full of suspicious points.

But again, so coincidentally, Lin Shilan had no evidence to expose his lies.

He said he only gained time travel ability in the third year. Last year, her participation in the rainy season was the shortest—she couldn’t verify whether his claim was true or false; according to Cao A’yi, she’d seen Tan Ziheng at an exhibition, but she herself hadn’t seen him with her own eyes, so Tan Ziheng’s life or death couldn’t be confirmed; regarding Su Ge, based on the scene she saw in her second time travel, the entanglement between her and Tan Jin wasn’t as simple as he described.

At present, the only thing she could ask him about was the scene she’d definitely witnessed in the second year: Su Ge’s confession to you—you accepted it, right? What did Su Ge mean when she said that line telling Tan Jin not to like Lin Shilan?

But she couldn’t ask.

She’d overheard that incident. He hadn’t deceived her about anything—at most he just didn’t want to say. Other people’s romantic issues weren’t hers to interfere with; moreover, their conversation had even mentioned her…

If she asked and Tan Jin didn’t answer honestly, denying the whole thing, she’d be the one embarrassed.

Lin Shilan’s face was filled with irritation.

“How do I know whether your answers are truth or lies?”

Tan Jin calmly stirred the egg drop soup with a spoon.

“What benefit would I get from deceiving you?”

She was left speechless.

“Drink the soup. It’s getting cold.” He handed her the spoon.

Lin Shilan couldn’t bring herself to accept his spoon: “If I really believed you, I shouldn’t drink your soup. I should drink the chicken soup and porridge my mother made. To fulfill her vow, I need to obey all her instructions.”

“Don’t you think you listened to her enough in the past?”

Tan Jin scoffed: “Maybe that vow was, ‘Good daughter, I want you to swear to be yourself and spend the rainy season happily.'”

He’d taken advantage of her.

When he said “daughter,” he deliberately dragged out the tone.

“Lin Shilan, if you ask me, this time you should do the opposite and be tough for once. Don’t listen to her at all.”

She replied ungraciously: “Oh. So you want me to listen to you? What if we’re not trapped because of a vow?”

“Who knows? You’ve traveled through time three times. You’ve done everything you could do, and nothing worked. Besides believing me, what other options do you have?”

He scooped up a spoonful of soup and brought it to Lin Shilan’s lips.

The overstepping yet smooth motion was as if an old fox had finally revealed his big tail.

She was forced to take the spoon hovering in mid-air and drank that mouthful of soup herself.

“Nothing works, so I can just do nothing.” After drinking one mouthful, she went to the lunch box to scoop more.

Lin Shilan didn’t praise him with a single word, but she drank the soup quickly.

This pleased him more than the earlier “thank you.” Tan Jin was also happy to cooperate with her.

“Fine, then do nothing.”