The people at the neighboring table, unaware of the situation, only heard the word “substitute.” Knowing about Sang Yan’s previous unsuccessful pursuit of Wen Yifan, they couldn’t help but look at him with sympathy.
Sang Yan’s temple twitched as he raised his head and stared at them expressionlessly.
At this moment, Su Hao’an turned to Wen Yifan, like an overprotective mother: “Wen Yifan… although I understand that Sang Yan’s personality is hard for normal people to handle—”
Wen Yifan listened in bewilderment.
“And his looks might not be to everyone’s taste,” Su Hao’an continued, “It’s just his luck that he has a dimple that caught your eye… But you can’t treat him as—”
Sang Yan couldn’t bear to listen anymore. He stood up, grabbing Su Hao’an. Looking at Wen Yifan, he said matter-of-factly, “I’ll take him to sober up,” before dragging Su Hao’an out, clicking his tongue, “Come on, stop making a fool of yourself.”
After they left, the private room didn’t return to its previous liveliness, remaining quiet for a moment.
Wen Yifan thought for a bit, then asked, “Could you tell that the first love I mentioned earlier was Sang Yan?”
A girl replied, “We could guess.”
Several others chimed in with affirmative answers.
Wen Yifan felt relieved and, noticing that the other table was still paying attention, added with a smile, “That’s good. I pursued Sang Yan for a long time before, but I was too embarrassed to say it. Sang Yan was considerate of my feelings and didn’t tell his friends about it.”
The others smiled and nodded in response.
The topic smoothly transitioned.
After a while, Xiang Lang turned to Wen Yifan, seemingly finding something amusing: “It’s you who’s being considerate of Sang Yan’s feelings, right? I heard from Su Hao’an that Sang Yan has been bragging about you pursuing him, but no one believed it.”
“…”
Meanwhile, in another location.
Su Hao’an, after being forced by Sang Yan to wash his face, managed to break free, his mind now much clearer: “Damn it, are you trying to murder me? How was I supposed to know that Wen Yifan’s ‘moonlight’ also had a dimple!”
“…” Sang Yan released his grip, looking at him with a mix of exasperation and amusement. “Is there something wrong with you?”
Su Hao’an: “?”
The term ‘moonlight,’ however, pleased Sang Yan. He smirked, no longer bothering to argue with the idiot before him: “If you can’t drink, don’t. Stop acting like a brain-dead fool all the time.”
Su Hao’an leaned on the sink, spitting out the water in his mouth: “My alcohol tolerance is just fine.”
Sang Yan took out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket.
“Why aren’t you bringing up that issue anymore? Don’t hold back, there’s no need to pretend in front of me,” Su Hao’an sighed, patting Sang Yan’s arm. “Think about it again. You can’t spend your whole life being cuckolded like this.”
Sang Yan tilted his head, his voice cool: “Did it ever occur to you that I might be that ‘moonlight’?”
Su Hao’an fell silent, then patted his shoulder again: “Don’t dream.”
“…”
The two men went out to the corridor, smoking by the window at the end.
Su Hao’an took out his lighter, lit the cigarette, and gradually understood the situation: “Was that first love Wen Yifan mentioned to you?”
Sang Yan raised an eyebrow, neither confirming nor denying, but his meaning was abundantly clear.
“I give up,” seeing his arrogant demeanor, Su Hao’an felt like all his previous guilt had been wasted. “Just tell me straight, have you two been secretly dating all these years?”
“…”
Su Hao’an clapped sarcastically: “Impressive. And to think I got angry at you when I suggested you and Wen Yifan should be roommates.”
“I,” Sang Yan said with the cigarette between his teeth, his voice slightly muffled, “don’t stoop to such underhanded tactics.”
“…”
“But since you delivered my wife to my doorstep,” Sang Yan blew out a smoke ring, his appearance somewhat surreal in the swirling smoke, speaking slowly and deliberately, “of course, I had no reason to refuse.”
Su Hao’an wanted to punch that smug look off his face, but hearing the word “wife” made him a bit melancholic: “Sigh, Fatty’s married. I thought you’d have to wait ten or twenty years, but now you’re getting married too.”
Sang Yan glanced at him.
Su Hao’an felt increasingly dejected: “Even Duan Jiaxu managed to get your sister.”
“…”
“And I, I fucking got dumped again—” As he said this, Su Hao’an stopped, his voice turning bitter as he corrected himself, “broke up again.”
“What was the reason this time?”
“She thought I was too stupid, completely lacking in emotional intelligence.” Su Hao’an rested his arm on the railing, sneering disdainfully, “She can say whatever she wants about me, but calling me stupid? Lacking emotional intelligence? How could I have dated so many girls if that were true?”
Sang Yan casually remarked: “So you’ve always been the one getting dumped?”
Su Hao’an stared at him, his emotions unaffected by Sang Yan’s words. After a few seconds, his expression showed a hint of resignation: “Well, even if a handsome guy has nothing else going for him, he’s still popular.”
“…”
After the gathering ended, the two returned home.
Thinking about Su Hao’an’s words and Sang Yan’s longstanding dislike of his dimple, Wen Yifan belatedly guessed something and called out with a smile: “A-Yan.”
Sang Yan turned on the living room air conditioner: “Hmm?”
Wen Yifan moved closer to look at the corner of his lips: “Has Su Hao’an always said your dimple makes you look like a little girl?”
“He was crying his eyes out tonight, and he has the nerve to say I look like a little girl?” Sang Yan pulled her into his arms, sounding drowsy, “But yeah, that’s possible.”
“Ah?”
“After all, didn’t he try to hit on me before?”
“…”
Wen Yifan, held in his embrace, smelled the mixture of cigarettes, alcohol, and sandalwood on him. She moved even closer, staring at his overly confident expression, and laughed: “I like your dimple.”
Sang Yan lowered his eyelashes: “Mm, you’ve said that before.”
After thinking for a moment, Wen Yifan modified Su Hao’an’s words: “Top-tier dimple.”
“…”
Wen Yifan wanted to dispel any insecurities caused by others’ comments: “Your dimple is quite manly.”
Sang Yan replied arrogantly: “How could it not be manly on my face? Look at how it turns out on that kid’s face.”
“…” Wen Yifan thought of the two dimples on Sang Zhi’s face when she smiled, feeling a bit envious, “Is your dimple hereditary? Can you make sure our future child has a pair too?”
Sang Yan stared at her, speaking in a lazy drawl: “Are you asking for my help?”
Wen Yifan felt his words weren’t quite accurate: “It would be your child too.”
The next moment, Sang Yan pressed the back of her neck, pushing her down, while his other hand grabbed her wrist. His lips touched her collarbone, biting lightly, as he issued an invitation: “Then shall we pull an all-nighter?”
Wen Yifan immediately backed away, tugging at his hair.
“No all-nighters, it’s time to sleep.”
“I’ll ask for your help in a couple of years, it’s a bit early now,” Wen Yifan said in a gentle voice, negotiating with him, “Take care of your body, live a healthier lifestyle. No smoking or drinking, early to bed and early to rise, and when the time comes, I’ll naturally—”
Before she could finish, Sang Yan picked her up. He glanced at the clock on the wall, which showed just after ten.
“What time counts as staying up late?”
Wen Yifan was taken aback and answered casually: “Midnight?”
Sang Yan’s eyes were like drops of ink. He kissed her while walking towards the bedroom, compromising understandingly.
“Alright, then we’ll sleep early today.”
2.
During this National Day long holiday, Sang Zhi also came back from school. The day before she was to return to school, Li Ping called and asked everyone free to come back for a meal and a chat.
Both Wen Yifan and Sang Yan were still on their rest days, so they returned to the Sang family home at noon that day.
Everyone else was there, except for Duan Jiaxu, who still had to work and could only come over for dinner. The family chatted casually, and as mealtime approached, Sang Rong and Li Ping were suddenly called away by some old friends for a meal.
They left the four of them behind without any guilt.
There weren’t many ingredients at home, but when they talked about going out to eat, they couldn’t decide which restaurant to go to. In the end, after a discussion between Wen Yifan and Sang Zhi, they decided to buy some ingredients and come back to have a hotpot.
Just as they walked out of the building’s main entrance, Duan Jiaxu’s car arrived.
The three of them got into the car.
Not long after the New Year, Duan Jiaxu returned to Nanwu from Yihe and started a game studio there.
Duan Jiaxu was wearing a white shirt, his phoenix eyes slightly lowered, showing no signs of fatigue despite working all day. His voice was clear and gentle, speaking unhurriedly: “What do you want to eat?”
Sang Yan leaned back in his seat like a boss, lazily ordering: “Drive to the supermarket next door.”
At this time, Sang Zhi was sitting in the front passenger seat, not having fastened her seatbelt yet. Hearing this, she turned back to look at Sang Yan, held back for a moment, and then said to Duan Jiaxu: “You should charge him the starting fare, but at this hour it should be doubled.”
Duan Jiaxu chuckled softly, leaning over to help her fasten her seatbelt.
Sang Zhi made an outrageous demand: “Charge him a thousand.”
“Fine,” Sang Yan said leisurely, “It’ll be deducted from your next month’s allowance.”
“…”
Wen Yifan sat quietly beside them, not wanting to get involved in the siblings’ fight, just hoping to be a free passenger.
Duan Jiaxu, however, spoke up at this moment, gently ruffling Sang Zhi’s hair, his phoenix eyes slightly lowered: “It’s okay, let it be deducted. I’ll make it up to you.”
Sang Zhi, having her feathers smoothed, lost her momentum: “Oh.”
The car started.
Sang Zhi pondered the flow of this thousand yuan for a moment, and quickly realized something wasn’t right: “Then it seems like you’re the one losing out.”
“…”
Calculating it this way.
Wouldn’t it just mean Duan Jiaxu was giving Sang Yan a thousand yuan for free?
She turned back: “Brother, you don’t need to pay.”
Sang Yan drawled, sounding quite provocative: “That doesn’t seem appropriate, does it?”
Sang Zhi: “It’s appropriate. You two are so close, it’s not appropriate to count money between you.”
“Clear accounts make good brothers, otherwise it hurts the relationship,” Sang Yan played with his phone, putting on a businesslike manner, “I’ve brought two family members with me. Brother, shall we make it three thousand then?”
“…” Sang Zhi felt like she had shot herself in the foot, and said with suppressed anger, “Don’t count me in, I’m riding in my boyfriend’s car. No charge.”
“Brother, am I not your family member too?” Duan Jiaxu laughed, “You’re not counting me in?”
No matter how many times he heard it, Sang Yan felt it was hell on earth to hear a grown man call him that. He let out a cold laugh, his voice devoid of emotion: “Is there something wrong with you?”
Wen Yifan’s attention was also drawn. She lightly pursed her lips, looking at Sang Yan’s expression, which she couldn’t tell was displeased or embarrassed. She had a feeling that he was flirting with his little lover in front of her.
Seeing that Sang Yan was finally uncomfortable, Sang Zhi became cheerful: “Brother, no personal attacks.”
“…”
They were like playing a word game, one after another.
Wen Yifan felt a bit out of place being so quiet all this time. Plus, her former love rival had called Sang Yan such an intimate term. She hesitated for a moment, feeling she couldn’t lose the battle, and couldn’t help but lean closer to Sang Yan.
Noticing her state, Sang Yan also turned towards her, using his eyes to ask “What’s wrong?”
Wen Yifan leaned close to his ear and whispered.
“Brother.”
“…”