While Lin Wan was puzzling over A Jin, he too was quietly dissecting her. For so long, he had never been able to read her inner world—not because she was unfathomable, but because he himself had erected a barrier between them. Only now did he realize that the barrier had a name: love.
He longed to breach the walls of her heart, yet felt like a general besieging a citadel—one called Lin Wan. It was not a fortress he could storm; only strategy and patience could win it. He waited for moments when her guard faltered—half-awake at dawn, or trembling awake from nightmares in the dead of night—to "chat" with her.
But it was less conversation and more hypnosis, coaxing her into unveiling fragments of the truth. Compared to him, she was far too unseasoned, far too easy to lead astray. And what she let slip—those words—shocked him, pained him.
Out of nowhere, she murmured, "I have four thorns… aren't you afraid?"
Then, baffled, she asked, "Are you planning to steam me or braise me?"
Another night: "I'm not a frog. I'm a toad. You can't eat me. Just let me go."
With furrowed brows, she spat, "I hate you. I hate you so much."
And sometimes she wept, sobbing, "I killed my child. I'm a murderer."
Occasionally she whispered, trembling, "Maybe… maybe she would've been a healthy baby…"
A Jin called Dr. Li Jin for help.
Li Jin said:
People with hallucinatory tendencies sometimes imagine themselves as someone else—or something else. Lin Wan is the latter. Most patients with depression feel trapped in an abyss, so she pictures herself as the frog in a well. She also sees herself as the rose in The Little Prince—that book carries deep meaning for her. Her fantasies stem from childhood experiences and her work. Haven't you noticed? Lin Wan is an idealist. That's why imperfections and ugliness in life wound her so deeply. And yes… she shows a degree of self-punishing behavior.
Mr. Chen, treatment for depression takes time. There may be relapses. You must have patience.
A Jin set the phone down and stood on the balcony, lost in thought.
Patience—of course he had patience. Even if she never recovered, he would care for her all his life. To him, that wasn't a burden—it was a blessing. He wasn't anxious. He was simply… hurting for her.
A soft jingling drifted to his feet.
A Jin looked down to find the puppy in its crate, gazing up at him with bright, round eyes. He crouched, meeting its stare. After two seconds, he lifted a hand and opened the crate door.
The little creature bounded out happily—not running away, but leaning in to lick his lowered hand, offering small, eager affection.
A Jin's heart softened. He didn't pull his hand back, letting the pup lick him—soft, warm, a little damp. The sensation reminded him vaguely of Lin Wan.
It puzzled him. He had never treated this dog kindly; if not for Lin Wan liking it, he would've tossed it onto the street long ago. Only after the little thing fell sick did he ease up, and even then, "not abusing it" was probably the extent of his kindness.
Yet the pup bore no grudge.
Well… they had lived together for months. Even a beast would form some attachment.
The thought pricked something sore in his chest.
If only Lin Wan could forgive him just as easily.
He knew that was nothing but wishful thinking.
His gaze drifted to the bedroom where she was still asleep. He rubbed the dog's fluffy head and whispered, "Little Mudball… your mistress is sick. Pretty badly. Did you know?"
The puppy rubbed its face into his palm, humming little sounds of contentment.
A Jin huffed a quiet laugh and toyed with the tiny bell on its collar.
"Alright," he said solemnly, "I'll give you a mission. Your job is to make her happy. Got it? If you fail, I'll toss you outside and let you eat trash."
He pressed the dog's head down twice, making it look like it nodded.
"Good. Agreement sealed."
The moment he loosened his grip, the pup tried to bolt toward the bedroom.
A Jin quickly scooped it back.
Lin Wan wasn't awake yet. Even he—usually strict and unforgiving—hadn't the heart to pull her out of bed for morning training today.
On the balcony stood a strawberry-shaped miniature sofa. He had bought it for her because he noticed she often crouched uncomfortably while feeding the dog.
A Jin sat on it and placed the pup on his knee, then unfastened the bell from its neck.
Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, spilling over him.
His hands paused.
If only this dog were a purebred aristocrat…
If only the woman still sleeping inside weren't ill…
In moments like this, he thought, life could almost feel peaceful. Almost perfect.
But before he could sink deeper into that illusion, a familiar chime sliced through the quiet.
His phone.
He shot to his feet and strode back to the bedroom.
Lin Wan turned over on the bed.
A Jin lunged for the phone on the nightstand, answering too late—the sound had already reached her. She opened her eyes sluggishly.
"What time is it?" she murmured.
"If you're not hungry, sleep a little more," he said gently.
She glanced at the clock and blinked in surprise.
"We're not training today?"
"It's Sunday. I'm giving you a day off."
She let out a lazy little smile. "Then I'll sleep a bit longer."
A Jin stood beside the bed, watching her as she drifted back to sleep.
Softness rose within him like rippling wheat fields in autumn.
They had gone to bed late last night.
He'd stayed up watching animated films with her—first Nausica of the Valley of the Wind, then, when she asked in a small, hopeful voice for Castle in the Sky, he couldn't bring himself to refuse.
By the time the credits rolled, it was past midnight.
His phone vibrated again.
He tore his gaze away, checked the screen, and frowned instinctively. One single character appeared: "二" — Two.
He answered, striding to the study and closing the door behind him.
Chen Zui's slightly dazed voice drifted through the speaker.
"Bro… morning."
"Shouldn't you be asleep? What's going on?" A Jin paused, then added sharply, "Don't tell me you caused trouble again."
"No! Absolutely not! I've been behaving. I'm practically a model student now."
A beat.
"I just left a classmate's birthday party. Saw the moon and… got homesick."
"Good. How's school? Still adjusting?"
"Eh… just so-so." The answer was vague, but then his tone shifted.
"Bro… I heard you and that Lin Wan… still aren't over?"
A Jin lifted his gaze toward the closed door and said solemnly, "Chen Zui, I need to inform you of something."
"Okay… go ahead."
"I've fallen in love with Lin Wan."
There was a sharp inhale at the other end—then silence.
A Jin waited, then asked, worried, "Are you alright?"
"Huh? Yeah, yeah. A stray cat just jumped out of nowhere—scared the shit out of me."
After catching his breath, he added, "Bro, you're not joking? Today's not April Fool's Day."
"I'm not joking."
Silence again—longer this time.
Then Chen Zui whispered, "Bro… don't you think this might be karma?"
A Jin let out a rueful laugh.
"I'm telling you this so you'll keep your mouth shut. Where she and I end up is our business. No one has the right to interfere. As for you—stay in school, study properly for once. When you come back, do something decent. Stop drifting through life."
"Bro…"
"That's it. I'm hanging up."