Lin An felt the chill of raindrops on his skin, the warmth of the girl before him, and the faint itch of her eyelashes brushing his cheek.

A wave of dizziness washed over him, as if caught in a whirlpool. Lately, confusion had grown—ever since meeting Su Yuejin. Just as Luo Shuishui said: he lacked the capacity to be loved.

Lin An knew this well; he needed no reminder. Her advice was merely her own subjective view. No one saves another. People save themselves.

He simply couldn’t accept what happened with Xiao Chacha last night. He believed in love—in its purity. That was why he felt he shouldn’t have done it. Of course, actions couldn’t be undone. A moment of self-reproach, then making peace—that was all. He was the carefree type, after all.

Yet facing Su Yuejin’s tears, his heart still softened. Perhaps that was why he could never bring himself to cut ties.

Like that night she asked him to watch a movie. He watched her step into a taxi—the moment he felt most resolute. He thought once she left, she’d erase him by morning.

But Su Yuejin turned to the window, gazing at his distant back. In that instant, as if guided by fate, she jumped out, ran wildly, stumbled into mud. The radiant girl was gone—replaced by a disheveled figure standing before him, breathless.

“Walk me home.”

In that moment, Lin An knew he wouldn’t harden his heart for a long time. With Xu Qinghuan’s quiet acceptance, Su Yuejin became someone he could no longer push away. Yet he believed she’d eventually see reality.

After all, brilliant romance is always slain by harsh truth.

But the two kissing in the rain likely hadn’t thought of that. Lin An didn’t dislike it—only felt a heat so intense his heartbeat nearly stopped, until Su Yuejin pulled back, satisfied.

Her eyes were hazy, corners slightly red, cheeks flushed with rosy warmth—impossible to tell sorrow from joy. She leaned closer, pressing her cheek against him.

“You don’t smell like perfume… You’re joking, right?”

“Or maybe not. Perhaps it really was my mistake,” Lin An said with a wry smile.

“But you apologized. So I choose to forgive you, Lin An.” Rain soaked her shirt; tiny beads clung to her jet-black hair.

“Come on, let’s get under the eaves before you catch a cold.”

Lin An took her hand and led her toward the classroom building.

“If I get sick and can’t come to school… would you take time off to care for me?”

“Maybe.”

“Are you being tsundere?” Su Yuejin’s eyes sparkled.

Lin An turned, helpless amusement in his gaze. “If you say so. If you’re sick, I’ll probably visit.”

Su Yuejin let out a soft hum. Under the eaves, watching rain fall, she murmured, “Was I… wrong to cry?”

Lin An didn’t understand.

“You told me you like someone else… So whoever you’re with, wherever you go at night—I shouldn’t control you. But I still feel sad. I can’t help it, Lin An. Do you know?”

“I’ve told myself: I like you, but you don’t love me. It’s one-sided. I shouldn’t fall too deep. My rational self says stay away—or I’ll be the one hurt. ‘Avoid the beginning to avoid the pain’—that’s what you said.”

“But there’s also an emotional me. The moment I see your eyes, I surrender. I lean toward you. I want your tenderness, your kindness. She whispers: ‘Stay by your side, and you’ll love me. You’ll never leave.’”

“Like two little figures fighting in my head—but rational always loses. So I can’t stop liking you.”

She spoke earnestly, lip lightly bitten, looking like a stubborn yet childish girl.

Lin An felt struck by her tender words. His heartbeat skipped half a beat. Gazing at her fair, lovely face—so stubborn, so endearing—he suddenly wanted to pull her close.

He crushed the impulse instantly.

“Let’s go. Find a towel for your hair.” Su Yuejin nodded obediently. Lin An shrugged off his jacket and handed it to her.

“Hold it over your head.”

“What about you?”

“Huh? I’m fine.”

Watching his gentleness, her voice turned sweet. “No need—we can run together. It’s okay.”

She seemed touched, with a hint of secret delight.

Lin An ruffled her hair with a smile. “I’ll have Luo Shuishui bring an umbrella.”

“…” Su Yuejin realized her sentiment was wasted.

“You’re so annoying.”

She reluctantly took the jacket, poking his chest. “Does Luo Shuishui… actually like you?”

“Can’t you tell?”

“If it were that simple, there’d be no love stories,” Su Yuejin huffed.

Lin An held her gaze, eyes soft and doting—though feigned. He placed a hand gently on her shoulder.

“Then guess… Do I like you right now, Su Yuejin?”

Su Yuejin stared, startled. His eyes held emotions that felt utterly genuine—so tender, so infatuated… yet fake.

But they looked so sincere.

“Of course you do.”

She insisted, proud and sweet. Lin An only smiled, too lazy to argue. He let her walk ahead, messaged Luo Shuishui—who promptly replied, even offering two umbrellas.

“That would be perfect.”

Luo Shuishui soon arrived by the garden-side building, two umbrellas in hand. Su Yuejin returned the jacket. Luo Shuishui approached them.

She wore a light gray skirt, hem swaying in the breeze. Her slender legs showed no chill.

Compared to Su Yuejin’s figure, she was slightly less striking.

Yet Su Yuejin showed neither smugness nor wariness. Luo Shuishui’s gentle smile left no room for guard.

“If I share an umbrella with you… the one beside you might get jealous, no?”

Luo Shuishui handed Lin An an umbrella, opened hers, and stepped beside Su Yuejin.

“Let’s go. Together.”

Su Yuejin whispered thanks and took the umbrella. “I’ll hold it.”

Luo Shuishui stood quietly beneath it. Lin An walked slightly ahead, giving them space.

“You’ve been crying?” Luo Shuishui asked lightly.

Su Yuejin froze, unsure whether to nod.

“I overheard your talk,” Luo Shuishui said candidly, voice easy, unreadable.

“I agree with Lin An. Your love is passionate and fearless—but time wears it down.”

“Why does everyone say that?”

“Because humans are contradictory. Loneliness seeks connection; novelty fades into weariness. It’s human nature.”

“Me? You don’t know me… yet you judge. He speaks to protect us both. But you, Luo Shuishui—you have no reason to.”

Su Yuejin’s voice turned colder.

“Reality is cruel. You must accept it.”

Su Yuejin stopped. Took a deep breath. Looked straight into Luo Shuishui’s clear eyes.

“Have you ever been in love?”

Luo Shuishui shook her head, then nodded. “Once. With Lin An. Probably fake—him deceiving me. Does that count?”

“Exactly.”

“Do you know me?”

“Not well.”

“Then on what basis do you judge? Because people like me ‘all act this way’? Big data? Psychology? Must everyone be the same? Must I follow your script?”

“But I am me. Only I know my heart. You don’t know me—why lecture me?”

“Lin An fears us both getting hurt. He fears my love fading while he’s trapped. I know he doesn’t love me. But I choose this entanglement willingly—even if I’m the one hurt. And you?”

“If you don’t love him… why meddle in his heart?”

Luo Shuishui looked away. No answer. No counter. Su Yuejin was right—she had her own path, beyond outside judgment.

After a quiet second, Luo Shuishui tilted her head slightly.

“Who ever said I’m not interested in him?”

Her smile bloomed like a flower.