Lin Shilan’s world, the story between her and Tan Jin, began in this rainy season.

Tan Jin’s world, the beginning of his story with Lin Shilan, had to be told from a very, very long time ago.

In eighth grade, fourteen-year-old Tan Jin followed his parents and moved to the newly built dormitory of the petrochemical plant, and Tan Jin and Lin Shilan became neighbors.

That same year, the grandmother who had raised Tan Jin since he was small passed away.

Grandmother was the person who treated Tan Jin the best.

When Tan Jin was young and she hadn’t yet grown old, Grandmother would always take Tan Jin for walks after meals, buying him the little snacks he liked. Grandmother’s cooking was delicious, and she liked to put her heart into making dishes Tan Jin enjoyed. She fed little Jin until he was plump and round—even his brother, who was two years older, didn’t weigh as much as him.

Tan Jin also had the deepest bond with his grandparents. In fourth grade of elementary school, his father’s work transferred him to Yan County. After securing stable housing, they brought Tan Jin from his grandparents’ side to reunite with them. Tan Jin stayed awake night after night. When asked why he wouldn’t sleep, he said he wanted to go home.

The place where Dad, Mom, and his brother lived was not truly home for Tan Jin.

The three of them spoke quite standard Mandarin that differed from his. They shared topics that made them laugh together. They discussed things Tan Jin didn’t understand. In their living room hung a photo of the three of them together… They treated Tan Jin with courteous politeness, responding to every request, yet they didn’t know what Tan Jin liked to eat or what he liked to do.

Brought to a place completely unfamiliar to him, and not allowed to go home, Tan Jin held resentment in his heart as he continued growing up while waiting for a reunion with his grandparents. Between him and his parents and brother, there was always some indescribable awkwardness.

Mom and Dad placed great importance on Tan Ziheng’s studies, but they had absolutely no requirements for Tan Jin’s academics. Because they hadn’t kept Tan Jin by their side before, they harbored guilt. When Tan Jin wanted to play games, go out to eat, or get pocket money, they always agreed immediately. They also never dared to lecture Tan Jin. Tan Jin had a stubborn temperament, always giving them the feeling that in a fit of anger, he would leave home.

When Grandmother died, Tan Jin lost his home.

At the funeral, Dad, Mom, and his brother all cried themselves into tearful messes.

Chubby little Jin stood by the coffin without crying a sound or shedding a single tear.

The body in the coffin had been made up and looked nothing at all like the grandmother he knew.

Gossipy relatives cursed him for being heartless, saying Grandmother had doted on him so much before. Before the ceremony was even finished, Tan Jin got hungry and ran out by himself to buy something to eat.

It was during the New Year after Grandmother passed that Tan Jin suddenly realized the fact of her death.

That Spring Festival, he didn’t see Grandmother wearing new clothes with a face full of smiles. He didn’t eat the pork and celery dumplings Grandmother made for him. He didn’t set off fireworks with Grandmother. He didn’t say auspicious words to Grandmother like “I wish you health and longevity.” Tan Jin went to a restaurant with his family, and everyone’s faces were brimming with New Year’s joy. Looking at the lavish meal, he felt exceptionally desolate.

A few days later, in the deep night when his family was asleep, Tan Jin took fireworks and a letter he’d written to Grandmother and secretly snuck out of the house.

He could never get through to Grandmother’s phone again.

If she spent Spring Festival alone, would she still set off fireworks?

In the small grove behind his house, Tan Jin lit the letter he’d written to Grandmother.

In the firelight, he put his hands together in prayer as belated tears streamed down his face.

When he opened his eyes again.

The fire on the paper didn’t disappear even after the letter burned up.

Sparks spread all the way to the fireworks at his feet.

Tan Jin tried to pick up the fireworks, but it was already too late. After the outer packaging ignited, the fireworks inside exploded all at once. He reached over with his hand, and his fingers were scorched by the fire—it hurt piercingly to the bone.

In the darkness of night, a muffled boom burst forth.

In an instant, the leaves on the ground also caught fire.

The firelight in the small grove grew more intense, the situation spiraling out of control.

The leaping flames threw Tan Jin into panic.

He opened his mouth wide, shouting several times “Fire! Fire!”, but where would there be people in the dead of night?

Falling into helpless despair, his voice went hoarse as he stood there dumbly. All he could think of was to find water to put out the fire. He looked around blankly, but in the pitch-black grove, there was no water source visible.

Steeling himself, he hurried back home to get water.

Running all the way, Tan Jin was so frightened his legs went weak, and he scrambled and crawled back home. While drawing water, he was afraid the fire would intensify and burn down all the houses across the way, anxiously breaking out in sweat.

When he carried a large bucket of water and rushed back to the small grove… someone was already there.

The heroic young girl walked with the wind, charging toward the crackling source of disaster.

In the blazing fire, she raised her soaking wet coat and threw herself forcefully at the flames.

Her hair flying, the girl straightened her back, her eyes burning with orange starfire.

She leaped high, then smoothly stomped down, extinguishing the fire easily and effortlessly, so cleanly done.

The air was filled with the acrid smell of burned things, and she coughed loudly, choked by the smoke.

It was like this.

Lin Shilan timely saved Tan Jin from a nighttime fire.

Her newly bought New Year clothes were ruined. The young girl stood with her hands on her hips, furiously cursing on the spot.

“Which turtle bastard plays with fire in the middle of the night?! Totally lacking in virtue!!”

In a shadowy corner, Tan Jin shakily held the water bucket, shrinking his neck.

Picking up the not-yet-completely-burned remains of the firework packaging box, the young girl had her evidence.

“If I catch you, I’ll pluck out every hair on your body! And burn you over a fire!!”

Tan Jin chickened out.

He secretly watched that brave girl, not having the courage to come out and admit that he was the one who set the fire.

A few weeks later.

Lin Shilan went to Tan Ziheng’s house to borrow books from him.

In his family’s living room, she saw several boxes of fireworks placed on the cabinet. The outer packaging looked very familiar, but they didn’t seem like the firework varieties sold in their county.

So she casually asked Tan Ziheng: “Whose fireworks are those?”

“My younger brother’s,” Tan Ziheng said.

After leaving his house, Lin Shilan remembered where she’d seen this kind of firework.

She hadn’t kept the paper scraps she picked up after putting out the fire. Although it seemed similar, she had no evidence and couldn’t be one hundred percent certain.

After a while, Lin Shilan forgot this matter completely.

But vaguely, her impression of Tan Ziheng’s younger brother became not very good.

Coincidentally, because of this same incident, from then on, Tan Jin began silently paying attention to Lin Shilan.