◎Lin Anran's Life◎
Lin Anran had no idea how she had traveled through time.
She unexpectedly found herself in another parallel world, meeting her parents in their younger years and encountering her infant self.
Everything felt like an illusion.
Yet the items she brought back with her were tangible proof—this was no dream.
Lin Anran carefully hung up her precious bag and changed out of her clothes.
She glanced at the time.
Still dazed, she couldn’t fathom how this bizarre experience had happened. Though she had lived in that parallel world for half a year, time in her original world hadn’t moved at all upon her return.
Unsure whether she might have brought back any viruses, Lin Anran quickly sprayed herself with disinfectant before grabbing her pajamas from the bed and heading to the bathroom for a shower.
Compared to the spacious house where her parents lived in that other world, the rental apartment she shared with her father in this one was just an ordinary two-bedroom unit.
She occupied the master bedroom with its private bathroom, while he stayed in the smaller one.
Under the warm water, Lin Anran took her time washing up.
Amid the rising steam, she slowly sorted through her thoughts.
Half a year in that other world wasn’t long, but it wasn’t short either—enough to make her forget some of the finer details.
The laundry basket still held unwashed clothes. Lin Anran tossed them into the washing machine. After finishing a pack of facial tissues, she pulled out a new one from the cabinet...
Once the bathroom was cleaned and her hair dried, Lin Anran suddenly remembered something important.
She dug out a weighing scale from her room and stepped on it.
Silence followed. In that other world, she had gained eight pounds at her heaviest, then lost five—leaving her three pounds heavier.
Good news: those three pounds were gone now.
Was this some kind of conservation of mass?
A sudden thought struck her. She picked up the large bag of items she had brought back—gold bars, a silver bowl, an amulet, the other world’s phone, and some miscellaneous things—and weighed them in her hands.
It felt like roughly three pounds.
Hugging the items, she zoned out until a vibration from the bed snapped her back.
A message from "that person" appeared on her phone.
[That Person]: Dinner’s ready.
Lin Anran bit her lip. Just a few hours ago in this world, she had clashed with him again.
The sight of another woman near him always set her off, an uncontrollable rage boiling inside.
Why? Just why?
How could he talk to other women when Mom was gone?
The single mother from the next building had a son, and the supermarket delivered groceries upstairs—so why did those two bags of rice just happen to be waiting downstairs for him to help?
"Little Lin from Unit 2, her daughter’s almost twenty, soon to be married off. Honestly, she’d be a perfect match for Luo—a ready-made family, one son and one daughter. Raising a son alone is tough for Luo."
"Little Lin’s situation is ideal—a daughter who’ll marry out, no need to buy a house, just lend a hand. So convenient."
She had overheard those gossiping voices while fetching a package, just as "that person" was being asked for help.
Lin Anran couldn’t shake the feeling those words were meant for her ears.
She slammed the door the moment she stepped inside, glaring coldly at him. "If you’re so eager to play dad for someone else, why bother with me?"
"You didn’t have to bring me back. I’m just a burden, aren’t I? Must be holding up your marriage plans."
"Always helping everyone now—why didn’t you lift a finger for Mom back then?"
He didn’t say a word.
She didn’t want to hear it anyway, locking her door immediately.
Click—
Lin Anran turned the lock and stepped out in her slippers. In the living room, she and her father locked eyes unexpectedly.
Lin Fan still wore his apron. He opened his mouth, then closed it, swallowing his words.
Afraid of saying the wrong thing and making his daughter storm off without dinner, he turned toward the smaller bedroom, not wanting to ruin her appetite.
"Let’s eat together." The sudden words from behind froze Lin Fan in his tracks. For a moment, he thought he’d imagined it.
"Before it gets cold." With that, his daughter walked to the dining table.
Lin Fan fought back a smile, stealing glances at his daughter’s expression as he cautiously fetched bowls and chopsticks from the kitchen.
The meal passed in silence.
For the past six months, dinner had been lively—four people chatting about everything under the sun.
But facing her father in this world, Lin Anran didn’t know what to say.
Unlike the other world, where topics flowed endlessly—school, Mom’s company, little An’an’s antics, online drama—here, nothing came to mind.
Father and daughter ate quietly. Lin Fan occasionally peeked at his daughter, not daring to speak or serve her food. Just sharing a table, watching her finish a bowl of rice, was enough to ease his worries.
His greatest fear was her skipping meals—eating too little would only harm her health.
Lin Anran watched him slowly eating from a small bowl. She stood, walked to the kitchen, and returned with an oversized noodle bowl, scooping half a pot of rice onto the table.
She knew—the dad from that other world always ate from a giant bowl.
Lin Fan felt like happiness had struck out of nowhere. His daughter had served him rice, specially switching to a bigger bowl—she remembered how much he ate! She cared!
Pulling out his phone, Lin Fan transferred money to his daughter.
"Where’d you get this much?" Lin Anran asked.
In the other world, her dad was still a student, mostly supported by Mom. She knew he had some military discharge pay, but compared to household expenses, it was pocket change.
Here, though, her father transferred tens of thousands at a time. Lin Anran only knew he’d served longer in the military—classified details meant higher discharge pay? Yet she never saw him work.
"From the country. Spend it freely—everything I have is yours."
Lin Fan’s wealth couldn’t compare to the truly rich, but with undisclosed side duties, his rank-based benefits far exceeded peers. The military’s self-employment allowance came monthly, and his side job provided steady income. He spent little, and his daughter wasn’t extravagant—it was more than enough.
After polishing off the leftovers, Lin Fan washed the dishes. Seeing his daughter unpacking a delivery, he hesitated.
Dinner had been unusually peaceful—he didn’t want to ruin it. Yet he needed to explain the afternoon’s incident, afraid of triggering her anger again.
Rubbing his wedding ring, he spoke. "This afternoon, I checked out the new grocery store by the east gate. They deliver rice and flour upstairs, so I told Comrade Luo."
"In this life, there’s only ever been your mother and you."
Lin Anran didn’t respond, slicing through layers of tape with a box cutter. The shipping label read "Bin City." Her eyelids flickered.
"I want to go back to Bin City."
Lin Fan paused. She had said "back," not "go."
He didn't hesitate, simply replying with a firm "Yes."
Twenty years ago, their home was in Bin City.
