It had been years since they last met, with no contact since their final encounter. The relationship had become so thin that Wen Yifan had almost forgotten this person’s existence.
But she still remembered.
Their last conversation hadn’t been pleasant.
It wasn’t the kind of relationship where he would come over to comfort and help her when seeing her in a disheveled state.
Wen Yifan’s first reaction was:
He must have mistaken her for someone else.
But another thought floated into her mind.
It was also possible that over the years, Sang Yan had matured and become more broad-minded. He might have long since put past events behind him, letting bygones be bygones, and was just being polite upon seeing an old classmate.
Wen Yifan pulled herself back to the present and handed him the jacket, her eyes filled with confusion and inquiry.
Sang Yan didn’t take it, his gaze passing over her hand. Then, he said flatly, “I’m the owner of this bar.”
Wen Yifan’s hand froze in mid-air, her reaction somewhat slow.
For a moment, she wasn’t quite sure.
Was he introducing himself;
Or was he bragging about how well he was doing now, having achieved success at such a young age and become a boss?
In this situation, she found herself distracted, recalling Zhong Siqiao’s words.
— “The owner of this bar is said to be the top host of Degenerate Street.”
Her gaze couldn’t help but sweep over his face a few more times.
Dark hair, handsome eyebrows, pupils of pure black, appearing even colder in this light.
The rebelliousness of his youth had faded, his once immature features were now sharp and clean-cut. Tall and slender, even his all-black attire couldn’t conceal his arrogance and pride, exuding an air of willfulness and nobility.
To call him the top host.
It seemed, indeed, well-deserved.
Sang Yan slowly uttered two more words, pulling her back to reality.
“Surname Sang.”
“…”
Was he telling her his surname?
So, he hadn’t recognized her and was just introducing himself.
Wen Yifan understood the situation and calmly asked, “Is there something you need?”
“I apologize. Due to our mistake, we’ve caused you trouble and inconvenience,” Sang Yan said. “If you have any requests, please let me know. Also, all your expenses in the bar tonight will be on the house. I hope this won’t affect your good mood.”
He used “you” in a formal manner, but Wen Yifan didn’t hear much respect in his tone.
His manner of speaking was still the same as before. It sounded perfunctory, lazy, cold, and somewhat irritating.
Wen Yifan shook her head and politely said, “That’s not necessary. It’s fine.”
Hearing this, Sang Yan’s expression relaxed, as if he had breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps thinking she was easy to deal with, his tone softened a bit as he nodded, “Then, if you’ll excuse me.”
With that, he turned away and started to leave.
Wen Yifan was still holding his jacket and instinctively called out, “Sang—”
Sang Yan turned back.
As their eyes met, she suddenly realized that they were now strangers, and the “Yan” got stuck in her throat.
Her mind went blank, and Wen Yifan didn’t know how to address him.
The atmosphere became awkwardly silent. In her flustered state, the blank was filled with the content of her earlier wandering thoughts, and two words surfaced. Staring at his face, she belatedly added, “—Top Host.”
“…”
Their eyes met.
The world fell silent once again.
In this nearly frozen moment, Wen Yifan thought she saw his brow twitch almost imperceptibly.
“…”
Huh?
What did she just say?
Sang Top Host.
Sang… Top… Host.
Oh.
Sang…
Oh shit.
Ahhhhhhhhhhh!
Sang Top Host ahhhhhhhh!!!
“…”
Wen Yifan’s breath stopped, and she almost couldn’t maintain her expression. She didn’t dare look at Sang Yan’s face at all, pursed her lips, and once again held out the jacket to him: “Your jacket.”
The best solution was to do as she always did, pretend nothing inappropriate had happened, that nothing had occurred at all.
To simply skip over this little episode.
But Sang Yan didn’t give her that chance.
He turned his head and slowly repeated: “Sang… Top… Host?”
Wen Yifan pretended not to understand: “What?”
After a moment of silence.
Sang Yan looked at her, somewhat surprised, as if he had just realized something. He drawled an “Ah,” the corner of his mouth slightly curved, with an “as expected” expression: “Sorry, we’re a proper bar here.”
“…”
The implication was probably:
I know I’m a beauty, but I’ve never considered that kind of service, please show some self-respect.
Wen Yifan wanted to explain but felt she couldn’t explain clearly.
She secretly let out a sigh, too lazy to struggle. Since they wouldn’t meet again anyway, she decided to go along with his words, saying with feigned regret: “Is that so? That’s quite a pity.”
“…”
Sang Yan’s expression seemed to freeze for a moment.
But it might have been her imagination.
Wen Yifan blinked and saw that his expression was still as calm as ever, showing no change. She didn’t pay much attention to it, politely smiled, and mentioned again: “Your jacket.”
Sang Yan still showed no intention of taking it.
For the next ten seconds or so, Wen Yifan strangely noticed him staring at the curve of her lips, his gaze direct and thoughtful.
Just as it paused—
“Wearing my jacket,” Sang Yan paused, suddenly smiling, “Aren’t you quite happy about it?”
“…”
Wen Yifan:?
“Although I’m not quite sure, but it seems I’m more famous than this bar?” He raised an eyebrow mischievously, his words carrying a hint of understanding, as if giving her a way out, “Take it back as a souvenir.”
“…”-
“He said that?” Zhong Siqiao confirmed again, bursting into laughter, “Impressive, why didn’t he just tell you to frame it and hang it up?”
Wen Yifan slowly said: “That’s exactly what he meant.”
Zhong Siqiao held back her laughter, offering token comfort: “Don’t take it too seriously. Maybe this happens too often, and Sang Yan just assumed you came here to see him.”
“Have you forgotten why we came here?” Wen Yifan asked.
“Huh?”
“Wasn’t it to ‘freeload’?” Wen Yifan said, “How can the word ‘see’ match his words and actions?”
“…”
Zhong Siqiao started laughing again.
Wen Yifan also laughed: “Alright, take it easy. Wait until he leaves to laugh, he’s still sitting there.”
By now, the high stools at the bar were all occupied, with Sang Yan taking the seat at the very edge. He picked up the clear glass on the table, and leisurely took a sip of wine, his expression composed and at ease, like a carefree young master.
Seeing this, Zhong Siqiao finally contained herself.
Just then, the waiter who had spilled the drink earlier came over.
This waiter was a young man, looking quite young with baby fat still on his face. He carefully carried a tray and served the drinks. Then, he returned the money Wen Yifan had paid earlier, placing it under the folder with the receipt.
“This is your drink.”
Wen Yifan looked at the money: “This is…”
Before she could finish asking, the waiter hurriedly explained, looking somewhat uneasy: “I’m sorry, it was my fault earlier. The boss has already instructed that your table is on the house.”
Wen Yifan then remembered Sang Yan’s words.
After a pause, her first instinct was to refuse: “It’s alright, there’s no need. Please take the money back.”
The waiter shook his head: “Besides this, if you need anything else, please feel free to call me anytime.”
His attitude was very firm, so Wen Yifan didn’t insist. She picked up the jacket that was placed aside: “When I went to the restroom earlier, I found this jacket in the hallway. It might have been accidentally left behind by a customer.”
The waiter quickly took it: “Alright, thank you.”
After he left, Zhong Siqiao winked at her: “What’s going on?”
Wen Yifan briefly explained.
Zhong Siqiao’s eyes widened: “If he said that, why did you still want to pay?”
“Running a business isn’t easy,” Wen Yifan took a sip of her drink, “There’s no need to take a few hundred yuan from him over something like this.”
“Why are you worried about a rich second generation’s entrepreneurial hardships? This young master has been wealthy for a long time,” Zhong Siqiao said, “But, he doesn’t remember you?”
Wen Yifan made a reasonable guess: “He probably didn’t recognize me.”
“Didn’t recognize you?” Zhong Siqiao found it absurd and blurted out, “Come on, don’t you know what you look like? Just because your name has a ‘Fan’ in it, you think you’re ordinary?”
“…” Wen Yifan almost choked, speechless and amused, “From your tone, I thought you were scolding me.”
It’s no wonder Zhong Siqiao found this answer unreasonable.
Because Wen Yifan was truly beautiful.
Completely at odds with her gentle personality, her appearance was extremely alluring and beautiful to the point of being aggressive. Those fox-like eyes seemed to come to bewitch souls, with slightly upturned corners, every gesture exuding charm.
Sitting in this dim bar, she seemed to emit her light.
Zhong Siqiao had always felt that she could become rich and famous just by relying on that face.
Who knew she would end up becoming a hardworking news reporter instead?
“Besides, you look pretty much the same as you did in high school, just with shorter hair now—” Catching sight of movement from Sang Yan’s direction, Zhong Siqiao quickly changed her words, “Well, it’s possible, I suppose.”
“…”
“With his conditions, he must have dated quite a few girls over the years, maybe some were similar to your type.”
Hearing this, Wen Yifan rested her chin on her hand and looked in Sang Yan’s direction.
This time, there was a woman next to him.
As if impervious to the cold, the woman wore a tight-fitting short dress, revealing two slender white legs. She was half-leaning against the bar, tilting her head to toast him, smiling charmingly, her curvaceous figure clearly outlined with every movement.
Sang Yan looked up at her, with a half-smile.
In this atmosphere, it also carried a hint of flirtation.
This topic was brief, and soon Zhong Siqiao started talking about other things.
Her attention drawn back by Zhong Siqiao’s voice, Wen Yifan withdrew her gaze and continued chatting with her.
After a while.
The female singer finished her last song. Noticing the time, Wen Yifan asked, “It’s almost ten, shall we leave?”
Zhong Siqiao: “Alright.”
The two stood up and walked towards the exit.
Zhong Siqiao linked arms with Wen Yifan, looking at her phone while saying, “Xiang Lang just told me he’s coming back to the country next month. Next time, let’s invite him to join us. We’ll go somewhere we can dance, this place is a bit boring.”
Wen Yifan responded, “Sounds good.”
Before leaving, she glanced at the bar one more time.
Sang Yan was still sitting in his original spot, with seemingly another woman next to him now. His face still showed no emotion, as if he was indifferent to everything.
Their unexpected reunion truly seemed as he had shown, just an encounter with a stranger.
Wen Yifan was lost in thought.
She inexplicably recalled their last meeting before they lost contact.
A cold night, moonless. Dense fog and dark clouds pressed down on the small town, fine rain falling like fur. In the narrow alley, the only streetlight flickered, with flying ants recklessly crashing into it.
The young man’s hair was wet, his eyelashes dotted with water droplets. His skin was pale, and the light in his eyes extinguished.
Everything seemed unreal.
She couldn’t remember how she felt at that time.
She only remembered.
Sang Yan’s voice was hoarse as he called out to her one last time: “Wen Yifan.”
Then he lowered his eyes in self-mockery: “I’m not that bad, am I?”
She also remembered.
He had shed all his pride, viewing himself as something filthy to be avoided.
“Don’t worry,” he smiled, “I won’t bother you anymore.”-
Ever since spilling the drink on the customer, Yu Zhuo had spent the entire evening on edge. He was extremely careful in everything he did, fearing he might make the same mistake again and reignite the boss’s recently subsided anger.
After this table of customers left, he went to clean up.
As he collected the glasses, Yu Zhuo pulled the folder, and the few red bills pressed underneath were brought along.
He paused.
He also noticed a bracelet that had fallen under the soft chair.
Yu Zhuo picked it up and walked back to the bar with a heavy expression. He pushed the tray in and said to the yellow-haired bartender, “Brother He, the customer at K11 dropped something.”
He Mingbo took it and looked up, saying, “By the way, that jacket you brought over earlier, doesn’t it look a lot like Yan-ge’s?”
“Ah, I don’t know, they said it was picked up in the bathroom,” thinking about the money issue, Yu Zhuo scratched his head, “Brother, Yan-ge just told me this table was on the house, but K11 didn’t take the refunded money. Should I tell him about it?”
He Mingbo glanced at him: “Go apologize.”
“…” Yu Zhuo was stunned, feeling he needed to explain, “Brother, it’s not that I want to pocket the money, K11 didn’t take it. I told her several times.”
Putting the bracelet in a clear bag, He Mingbo smiled and said, “Yan-ge isn’t that reasonable.”
“…”
That seemed to be true.
Although he thought this, when Yu Zhuo went upstairs to find Sang Yan, he still couldn’t help but make a last-ditch effort.
He had seen Sang Yan at the bar all evening, not knowing when he had gone upstairs. Now, he was sitting in the innermost booth of the VIP area, his expression indifferent.
It was unclear if he had listened to Yu Zhuo’s explanation.
Sang Yan didn’t speak, casually playing with the clear glass in his hand.
The atmosphere was almost oppressive.
Yu Zhuo steeled himself and spoke to ease the tension: “This might not be payment for the drinks, I just heard these two customers saying…”
At this point, he suddenly realized that what he was about to say wasn’t quite right, and began to stammer: “But it was quite noisy around, I didn’t hear very clearly, so I’m not very sure… it’s, it’s just…”
As soon as he met Sang Yan’s cold gaze, Yu Zhuo shuddered, and his words suddenly became fluent: “I heard the customer’s friend ask her if she came to this bar to see you, Yan-ge, and she said no.”
Sang Yan’s eyelashes twitched slightly.
Yu Zhuo: “Then, she said, it was, it was to freeload…”
Sang Yan: “…”
Sang Yan: “?”
“So this might be the payment for… freeloading you…”
“…”