Chapter 110: A Test of Trust

Instead of merely resolving Zhong Tian’s existing doubts, this act of mind-reading only served to sow more seeds of confusion within him.

Could it be that Su Linxi’s strange behavior this morning stemmed from precisely this vision?

The instant their eyes met, Su Linxi detected the subtle shift in Zhong Tian’s eye color, a clear sign that he had activated his ability; she promptly averted her gaze, turning her face away from his penetrating stare.

Having learned from Ms. Yan that the volume of information Zhong Tian could glean through his mind-reading was directly proportional to the length of their eye contact.

Their brief, fleeting eye contact moments ago meant that Zhong Tian would likely have received only a small fragment of information, perhaps just a single image…

Yet, at that precise moment, she had been immersed in recalling the dream she’d had the previous night.

This implied that Zhong Tian had glimpsed a vision of her previous life.

Su Linxi deftly shifted her gaze to the dining table, feigning a moment of deep contemplation.

‘I cannot allow him to grow suspicious again.’

Su Linxi neither wished nor could she permit Zhong Tian to discover her true nature as a reincarnated individual—not at this juncture, at least.

Her intention was to reveal it to him only after successfully resolving Yu Naixi’s predicament and solidifying their relationship.

Her reasoning was simple: if Zhong Tian were to learn of her rebirth ability, it would inevitably entangle him in Yu Naixi’s affairs, which would only compound their worries and potentially escalate the risk of Yu Naixi spiraling out of control.

For Su Linxi, such an outcome was utterly unacceptable.

She stealthily lifted her gaze, letting it settle on Zhong Tian, who had remained silently observant.

“Zhong Tian?”

Zhong Tian, leaning back in his chair, stared in Su Linxi’s direction, yet his eyes were vacant, his expression listless, and his body devoid of any movement.

He appeared to have even ceased breathing.

‘A side effect!’

Panic seizing her, Su Linxi sprang to her feet, practically lunging towards Zhong Tian.

No sooner had her hand touched Zhong Tian’s shoulder than he abruptly rose, seizing Su Linxi’s wrist, his deep blue eyes locking onto her own lake-blue gaze.

Zhong Tian initiated another mind-read.

Swifter and more unforeseen than the last, this mind-read caught Su Linxi completely off guard; she had no chance to react, allowing Zhong Tian to effortlessly penetrate her thoughts.

Having successfully delved into Su Linxi’s innermost thoughts, Zhong Tian released her slender arm, took a step back, and maintained his intense gaze upon her.

A serious expression now settled upon his face.

“I was merely… feigning the side effects just now…”

Zhong Tian’s calm, measured words left the still-reeling Su Linxi utterly motionless.

“When I first used my mind-reading on you, you consciously averted your gaze, thereby limiting the amount of information I could perceive,” Zhong Tian explained.

“This sparked a hypothesis in my mind… Consequently, I feigned experiencing side effects, intending to gauge your reaction.”

“And now, through that last mind-read, my hypothesis has been unequivocally confirmed.”

Zhong Tian paused, his body swaying perceptibly from a wave of dizziness—the true side effect of his ability—yet this momentary weakness did not deter him from continuing his interrogation.

“Neither my closest friends nor my own family are aware of my unique mind-reading ability.

Yet you, Su Linxi, a person I’ve only known for a mere month, not only know about it but seem to understand it with remarkable depth…”

“Moreover, your inner self is far from the detached persona you present; your emotional fluctuations are indistinguishable from those of any ordinary person.

So, are you deliberately suppressing your expressions, hoping I won’t discern the truth?” Zhong Tian’s voice deepened with each word.

“…It seems I must now seriously ponder your true intentions for remaining by my side…”

Su Linxi stood rooted to the spot, utterly dumbfounded; she had never imagined that Zhong Tian would unearth her secret in such an unexpected way.

With the situation now irrevocably set, she realized Zhong Tian’s suspicion of her had reached its zenith.

If she failed to alleviate it, Su Linxi would be forced to confront the very outcome she dreaded most.

“I… am by your… side… with no… ill intent…” Su Linxi’s voice wavered, a tremor running through her words.

“I… am actually… also… an ability… user, and I… indirectly learned of… your… ability through… my own.”

“…Hm.”

Zhong Tian appeared unfazed by Su Linxi’s confession.

“My… my ability…”

With her head bowed, Su Linxi hesitated for a prolonged moment before finally, slowly, uttering, “For now… I cannot… tell you…”

“Truthfully, I harbor little curiosity regarding your special ability,” Zhong Tian stated.

“What truly concerns me is your purpose for remaining by my side—it surely cannot be as straightforward as merely overseeing a comic, can it?”

“Such a vague claim of ‘no ill intent’ hardly suffices as an explanation.”

Su Linxi clenched her finger joints, her gaze still intently fixed on the floor, as if attempting to bore a hole straight through it.

“…”

Zhong Tian sighed, his tone softening, his expression relaxing.

“Linxi, if there’s truly no ill intent, simply tell me.

Your continued silence only serves to deepen my suspicions.”

“…Please… grant me… some time… When the moment… is truly ripe, I will… without fail… tell you everything… without reservation…”

“…Very well.” Zhong Tian conceded.

“I will grant you that time.”

“I… am very sorry…”

“There’s no need for apologies,” Zhong Tian stated, picking up his canvas bag from the chair.

“Come on, let’s head to school.”

“…?”

Observing Su Linxi still standing rooted to the spot, gazing at him with a bewildered expression, Zhong Tian sighed once more.

“One of my life’s tenets is to largely ignore anything others do that has no detrimental impact on me.

Secondly, if a troublesome matter proves difficult to resolve and isn’t of paramount importance, I simply cast it aside.”

“Therefore, I’m not overly concerned with your ‘cannot say for now’ reason.

You’re free to tell me whenever you wish, or not at all; at most, it will only cause a minor internal debate for me.

As for my earlier words, they were merely a tactic to apply pressure.

Now that I have your promise of a future explanation, I can put it aside.”

“Rest assured, I won’t distance myself from you or anything of the sort because of this.

After all, you are still my patron…”

“And… you are also my friend.”

“…”

A subtle shift played across Su Linxi’s features; for the first time, Zhong Tian could discern an emotion akin to incredulity on her face.

“Why?”

Su Linxi, picking up her own schoolbag, fell into step behind him.

“Surely your comprehension isn’t *that* poor…?” Zhong Tian remarked, slipping on his shoes and gathering his long hair into a low ponytail with a hair tie before they both stepped out the door.

“To distill it into a more concise statement: I trust you, and I am willing to wait for you.”

As Zhong Tian mounted his bicycle, adjusting the hem of his skirt, he turned his head to smile gently at Su Linxi.

“Does that explanation suffice?”

Beneath the dappled tree shadows in front of the building, they stood gazing into each other’s eyes for a prolonged moment.

In that unspoken exchange, the last vestiges of Su Linxi’s tension were gently carried away by the cool morning breeze.

“Thank… you.”

“Get on.”

“…The bicycle lock… hasn’t… been undone yet.”

“Also… we’re going to be late…”

“Ah…?”

Zhong Tian quickly pulled out his phone for a glance, and his movements to unlock the bicycle instantly became frantic.

He tossed the lock into the bike’s basket and mounted it once more.

“Linxi, quickly get on!”

Su Linxi gracefully swung her leg over, settling onto the bicycle’s back seat.

As was her custom, her small hand found purchase on the corner of Zhong Tian’s shirt.

“Let’s go.”