I set you up on a blind date, and you've managed to overcome all the weirdness?

Chapter 167 Anyway, it won't be long.

The countdown has begun.

For the next two weeks, the underground rehearsals at the factory went a little crazy.

Sister An was like a machine that was wound up completely, spending day and night in the workshop.

She broke several bass strings and her fingers were wrapped in tape, but no one ever saw her complain of being tired.

Lin Yan sat behind the gasoline drum, twirling a drumstick in his hand, lost in thought.

Something doesn't feel right.

The piece they'd rehearsed countless times suddenly became noticeably slow this afternoon.

Sister An always seemed to be a beat too slow.

For an ordinary underground band, this half-beat mistake might be drowned out by the accompaniment.

But now that Lin Yan is here, to his ears, this half-beat pause is as obvious as a husky mixed in with a pack of coyotes.

"Stop, stop, stop!"

Lin Yan tapped the metal plate; let's just call the metal plate of the gasoline can a metal plate for now.

The workshop immediately fell silent.

Huang Mao and the other musicians looked at each other, not daring to utter a single word.

This is the only person here who can talk to Sister An during rehearsals.

Anjie turned around, her face so dark it could drip water: "What have you done now?!"

"The rhythm is off."

Lin Yan pointed to Sister An's left hand; he had already found the problem.

"Your chord progressions are too slow; they can't keep up with my drumbeats."

"What the hell do you know! I've been playing for years, do I need you to teach me?!"

Anjie exploded at the slightest provocation, like a child whose lie had been exposed.

She threw down the pick in her hand, wanting to say something more defiant, but then felt it was all in vain.

He could only stare at the floor, his chest rising and falling.

"Yellow-haired guy! What you just said was utter garbage! Do it again!"

She suddenly turned and started cursing at the innocent blond-haired man, trying to cover up her earlier lapse in composure.

The blond-haired man shrank his neck and quickly lowered his head.

Don't let this battle of the gods affect me!

Lin Yan was not so easily fooled; he just stared at Sister An.

Lin Yan noticed it that night too; it was also the left hand.

It wasn't that Sister An didn't want to play; it was that she simply couldn't hold onto that mere piece of plastic.

Her fingers were too weak.

That night, a torrential downpour occurred, and the rain pounded against the metal roof.

The rehearsal ended half an hour earlier than usual.

Sister An's face was always in a bad mood. After she had given Huang Mao and the others a thorough dressing-down, she sat alone in the corner and smoked.

"I'm heading back now. See you tomorrow morning."

Lin Yan picked up his coat and greeted her.

Sister An blew a smoke ring and ignored him.

Lin Yan smiled. This girl didn't even swallow the cigarette; she just pretended to smoke it.

He walked out of the workshop, walked for a while in the rain, and suddenly stopped.

I checked my pockets and realized I might have left my lighter on the gasoline can when I was changing clothes.

He turned and walked back.

Push open the slightly ajar iron door of the workshop.

The headlights were off, and only one small bulb was on.

When no one was around, Sister An would stop smoking.

She sat in a chair with her back to the door.

The bass guitar, which he cherished dearly, was carelessly tossed on the ground.

She lowered her head, bit her lip, and vigorously rubbed her left wrist with her right hand.

Lin Yan stood through the crack in the door, watching her shoulders tremble uncontrollably.

"Crunch~~Squeak~"

Old Iron Gate tipped off the enemy.

Sister An turned around in surprise, like a frightened little animal.

"Who let you come back?!"

She frantically grabbed the black wristband beside her and tried to put it on her wrist.

But a warm and strong hand had already grabbed her first.

"Let go!"

Anjie struggled desperately like a madwoman, grabbing an empty wine bottle next to her with her other hand and trying to smash it on Lin Yan's head.

Lin Yan reacted quickly, slapping the wine bottle away and forcefully pulling her left hand under the light.

Lin Yan ripped the wrist guard off.

Under the lights.

Even though Lin Yan had already guessed, he was still taken aback.

His wrists were covered with a dense array of knife scars.

Deep and shallow.

Some of them had already scabbed over and turned black, while others were clearly freshly cut and were still bleeding.

Lin Yan frowned, thinking that given An Jie's personality, she shouldn't have harmed herself.

Upon closer inspection, it was discovered that these were not marks of self-harm.

All the incisions in those scars avoided the arteries.

A normal person who cuts their wrists would not be able to do it so precisely, at least not intentionally.

One of his ex-girlfriends happened to be the daughter of a neurosurgeon, and I heard her talk about some interesting facts.

Before seeking medical treatment, some patients often feel that some extreme methods are more likely to be effective.

For example, when they lose consciousness somewhere, they may use intense pain to forcefully stimulate their nerves and force themselves to regain consciousness.

Some people are exceptionally gifted, which is good, but many others will only get worse.

Outside the workshop, the rain continued to pour down.

The light was positioned between the two people.

Sister An stared at Lin Yan's hand and gave up thinking.

The struggle stopped.

Lin Yan hoped she could be stubborn like usual, or even try to snatch the wristband.

But she didn't. She just looked at the crisscrossing scars as if they were someone else's hands.

"Have you seen enough?"

There was not a ripple.

"Anyway, it won't be long."

She pulled her hand away from Lin Yan's palm.

This time, he didn't use much force, and Lin Yan didn't stop him again.

She bent down to pick up the pick and casually wiped it on her trouser leg.

"Play as many songs as you can."

Lin Yan watched as she put the wristband back on, covering up the hideous scars.

The rain outside is very loud.

"Stop playing."

Lin Yan spoke.

Anjie paused for a moment while carrying the bass guitar.

"I know you're going to put on your last performance in Workshop Six in a few days."

Lin Yan walked up to her.

"During that performance, the doors will be locked from the inside, and there will be a big fire that will burn everything inside to the ground."

Sister An looked up at him.

Lin Yan met her gaze without flinching or explaining how she knew about these things that hadn't even happened yet.

He only stated the results.

"I am not from this era. I came here to save you."

"Cancel the performance and leave immediately."

The workshop fell silent again, while the torrential rain continued to rage.

Sister An looked at Lin Yan.

This is the second time he has said this; the first time, he even called himself a superhero.

She should have called him a lunatic, or asked him about time and space, or the future, like a normal girl would.

But she is Sister An.

She walked to the window and took out the wet Red River cigarette from her pocket.

I struck the match several times.

She exhaled a smoke ring and looked out at the rain outside the window.

"Since you know everything."

She flicked off her cigarette ash.

"Then you should know—I can't leave."

Lin Yan didn't speak.

"The doctor said it's called progressive atrophy, it's a foreign name, I can't remember it."

Anjie's fingers, holding the cigarette, trembled slightly, unlike the calm tone in her voice.

He said there would be at most six months left.

"I even have difficulty swallowing, let alone singing."

"I will turn into a pile of rotten flesh, paralyzed on the bed, unable to even control my own excrement and urine."