HomeFirst FrostNan Hong - Chapter 17

Nan Hong – Chapter 17

“…”

Wen Yifan truly hadn’t expected that after his long silence, during which he had thoroughly treated her as if she were invisible, the reason he finally deigned to speak to her was to drum up business for his establishment.

She paused for three seconds before she couldn’t help but ask, “Has your bar fallen on such hard times?”

“It’s not making much money, so we need to put some effort into promotion,” Sang Yan said lazily. “Are you coming? If you do, I’ll be generous and give you a roommate discount.”

Only then did Wen Yifan consider going: “Exactly how much of a discount?”

If she could get a discount, that would be great. She could support his business while saving some money herself. It would be a win-win situation.

Sang Yan tilted his head, drawing out his words as he thought: “Let’s say… 99%.”

“…” Wen Yifan could hardly believe her ears. “How much?”

Sang Yan didn’t seem to think there was anything wrong with what he’d said and patiently repeated: “99%.”

“…”

No wonder the business wasn’t profitable.

You’re just waiting to go bankrupt.

After staring at him for a while, Wen Yifan finally said, “That is quite generous.”

She didn’t outright refuse: “I’ll think about it.”

“Alright, let me know in advance if you’re coming,” Sang Yan returned to looking at his phone. “I’ll reserve a table for you.”

“Okay.” Thinking about how he had helped her quite a bit, Wen Yifan offered some well-intentioned advice, “While promotion is important, you should also consider the bar’s decor.”

Sang Yan looked up: “What do you mean?”

“Your bar’s signage is too inconspicuous. It doesn’t look like a bar, but more like a…” Wen Yifan paused, unsure if saying this would offend him, “…barbershop.”

“…”

“The first time I went, it took me ages to find ‘Overtime’,” Wen Yifan said honestly. “And it doesn’t make people want to go in.”

The living room fell silent.

Uncertain if her advice had gone too far, Wen Yifan felt she might not be in a position to offer such critical comments. She finished her remaining coffee and tried to lighten the mood: “But that’s just my opinion.”

“If it’s so hard to find,” Sang Yan seemed unfazed by her words and repeated meaningfully, “and there’s so little desire to enter—”

He paused at just the right moment, his words tinged with playfulness, “Then why did you come to my bar the first time?”

“…”

Wen Yifan was stumped, unable to answer.

After all, even if she hadn’t initiated it, the purpose was indeed not entirely innocent.

Sang Yan, unusually considerate, didn’t pursue the question further. He looked away and said casually, “I’ll consider your suggestions.”

Wen Yifan breathed a sigh of relief: “Then—”

“However,” Sang Yan’s tone was arrogant, “I don’t plan to change anything.”

“…”

Wen Yifan felt like she had wasted her time talking to him here. After finishing her cookies, she put on her coat and left. By the time she arrived at the company, it was almost lunchtime.

Su Tian was sitting at her desk and asked, “Why are you so late today?”

“There’s not much going on today, just an interview in the afternoon,” Wen Yifan said. “Compared to work, life is more important. If I don’t get more sleep, I feel like I won’t make it to next year.”

“Ah, true. Now when I rest, I don’t even want to leave my room. I just want to lie in bed all day,” Su Tian groaned, sprawled across her desk. “Can time pass faster? I want it to be the New Year soon so I can have a holiday!”

Suddenly, Su Tian sat up: “Oh right, I forgot to tell you.”

“What?”

“Wang Linlin just messaged me on WeChat, asking you to reply to her,” Su Tian said. “Didn’t you respond to her? Why is she looking for you? She seemed quite urgent, even reaching out to me.”

Wen Yifan turned on her computer: “I’ll check later.”

Her emotions were always calm, appearing impenetrable. Su Tian didn’t notice anything unusual: “But Yifan, you’re too nice. She moved out right after you moved in. If it were me, I’d move out too.”

“After all, she rented the place,” Su Tian rolled her eyes. “She’s probably thrilled now. There’s still so long before the lease is up, and she can even get her deposit back for moving out early.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Wen Yifan said. “I quite like the apartment.”

Su Tian sighed: “That’s why I say you’re too nice.”

Qian Weihua had been out of town recently due to a high-profile murder case in a neighboring city. He had a follow-up interview to rush out, and the editor-in-chief had been pressuring him. However, since he was stretched thin, the report was handed over to Wen Yifan.

It was an attempted rape case that occurred on the evening of the 17th.

After getting off work, the female victim was held at knifepoint by a man on her way home and dragged into a secluded alley in the North District. A male street vendor passing by discovered the situation and intervened, allowing the victim to escape.

During the confrontation, the street vendor suffered severe nerve damage to his hand.

After organizing her outline, Wen Yifan felt it was about time and looked around: “Where’s Da Zhuang?”

Su Tian: “I think someone called him out for an interview together. I’m not sure.”

“Alright,” Wen Yifan didn’t mind. “I’ll go by myself then.”

When Wen Yifan joined the “Communication” column team, she came in as a writer. But when the team was short-staffed, she had to do everything.

If she didn’t know how to do something, she learned on the job.

From camera work to interviewing, writing scripts, editing, and post-production – one person had to handle it all.

Grabbing the equipment, Wen Yifan headed to the city hospital alone.

Wen Yifan found the ward where the male street vendor was staying and, after obtaining his consent, interviewed him about his current condition.

The street vendor was in his early thirties and looked honest and simple. He answered each of Wen Yifan’s questions carefully, too shy to meet her gaze. If he accidentally made eye contact, his face would turn red.

After asking the questions on her outline, Wen Yifan added a few of her own before deciding not to disturb his rest further. She picked up her camera equipment, thanked the street vendor, and planned to find his attending physician for more details.

Just as she stepped out of the ward, someone called out to her.

“You… hey, Wen Yifan?”

Looking towards the voice, she saw a vaguely familiar young woman about two or three meters away. She looked quite young and was carrying a fruit basket, apparently visiting a patient.

Wen Yifan smiled at her but couldn’t immediately recall who she was.

“When did you come back to Nanwu?” The young woman frowned. “How come I didn’t hear Mom mention it?”

These words instantly helped Wen Yifan recognize her.

Zheng Kejia.

Her stepfather’s daughter.

Come to think of it, the last time Wen Yifan saw her was probably in her second year of high school.

At that time, Zheng Kejia was only in seventh grade, without any sense of self-grooming, and had a spoiled and willful personality. She looked vastly different now that she had grown up and learned to take care of her appearance.

Wen Yifan hadn’t expected to run into her here.

Noticing the equipment in Wen Yifan’s hands, Zheng Kejia guessed, “Are you here on a business trip?”

“No, I’ve moved back to Nanwu,” The camera was heavy, and Wen Yifan began to make perfunctory responses. “I still have work to do. We can catch up another time.”

Zheng Kejia muttered, “Who wants to catch up with you.”

“That’s fine too,” Wen Yifan nodded. “It saves time for both of us.”

“…” Zheng Kejia was left speechless by her response. After a moment, she managed to say, “Why did you come back if nothing was wrong?”

“Do I need something to be wrong to come back?” Wen Yifan smiled. “Don’t worry, my return to Nanwu doesn’t mean I’ll be living at home. Let’s pretend we didn’t see each other today. As long as you don’t mention it, no one else will know.”

Zheng Kejia frowned: “I didn’t say you couldn’t live at home.”

Wen Yifan: “Alright, you didn’t say that.”

“Why are you so irritating when you talk?” Zheng Kejia became somewhat displeased. “Aren’t I speaking to you nicely? I just said before that I didn’t want to live with you, but I’m not saying that now.”

Wen Yifan stood still, quietly looking at her.

As she spoke, Zheng Kejia gradually lost her confidence: “Besides, that was so long ago. How old was I then…”

“Indeed, it’s been a long time. I could barely recognize you. There doesn’t seem to be any need for us to reminisce,” Wen Yifan said. “You should go visit your patient. Carrying that fruit must be tiring.”

“Wait! Are you coming home for the New Year?” Zheng Kejia asked. “Don’t you want to see Little Brother?”

The “Little Brother” Zheng Kejia mentioned was a boy born three years after Zhao Yuandong remarried.

Wen Yifan had never met him.

Zhao Yuandong would occasionally send her photos.

“No,” Wen Yifan made up an excuse. “I’m very busy with work. I have no holidays.”

After a moment of silence.

Zheng Kejia pulled out her phone from her pocket and asked, “Then can we add each other on WeChat and have dinner tonight? I want to apologize. What I did before was wrong—”

“Zheng Kejia,” Wen Yifan still had to visit the police station, and then return to the office to write and edit the footage. She didn’t have time to deal with this, “I just want to live my own life.”

“…”

“I didn’t come back to Nanwu for anyone, and I’m not avoiding living at home because of you,” Wen Yifan said softly. “Everything I do, I do for myself.”

“…”

Wen Yifan glanced at the time: “I’m really in a hurry, so I’ll be going now.”

Zheng Kejia’s lips moved, but she said nothing.

Without waiting for her response, Wen Yifan turned to look at the directional signs and followed them towards the Neurology Department.

Wen Yifan found the male street vendor’s attending physician. Not wanting to delay the doctor’s consultations, she didn’t take up much time. She asked a few questions about the street vendor’s condition, thanked the doctor, and left.

Before leaving the hospital, Wen Yifan went to the restroom.

As Wen Yifan bent to turn on the faucet, she involuntarily shrank back when she touched the cold water. She was momentarily stunned, perhaps because of her recent encounter with Zheng Kejia.

It made her recall many things from the past.

Wen Yifan remembered what her father, Wen Liangzhe, used to say to her.

— “Our Shuangjiang is a girl, don’t always touch cold water.”

Over the years, it seemed that only when thinking of Wen Liangzhe did Wen Yifan’s emotions get affected. Her nose stung, and she blinked hard, coming back to herself as she slowly washed her hands clean.

Wen Yifan’s high school nickname wasn’t randomly given by her classmates; it had its basis.

Back then, she truly couldn’t do anything. All the cleaning tasks in dormitory life were taught to her by her roommates. She had a good temper; even when others lost patience and yelled at her, she wouldn’t hold grudges.

Wen Yifan had grown up pampered, the only child in her family, the sole precious daughter of Wen Liangzhe and Zhao Yuandong. They supported everything she wanted to do, had no grand expectations for her, only hoping she could live a happy and peaceful life.

At that time, Wen Yifan lived without a care in the world.

Even if she didn’t have many friends in class, she was still happy.

Because she had received enough love.

But Wen Yifan never imagined she would have such a day.

Because of Wen Liangzhe’s death, because of Zhao Yuandong’s remarriage, and because of Zheng Kejia who was terrified of losing her father’s love for her, she was sent to live with her grandmother by Zhao Yuandong.

Later, due to her grandmother’s poor health, she was sent to live with her uncle.

That was probably the time in Wen Yifan’s life when she was most sensitive.

— She felt that nobody wanted her.

Although she had a place to stay, she still felt there was no place in this world where she truly belonged.

She felt she had no sense of belonging.

Wen Yifan was terrified of doing anything wrong, living extremely cautiously. Even when eating, if her chopsticks clinked against the bowl, she would unconsciously hold her breath.

Wen Yifan inexplicably recalled a past incident.

One weekend.

Her aunt gave Wen Yifan twenty yuan and asked her to go out and buy a box of hand-pulled chicken.

Wen Yifan obediently took the money and went out.

She went to the store her aunt had specified and bought the hand-pulled chicken. When she was about to pay, she found the money was gone.

At that moment, her mind went blank. Looking at the shopkeeper’s expression, she could only stammer that she’d come back for it later. Then, Wen Yifan walked back along the way she came, carefully scrutinizing every corner of the ground.

She repeated this back and forth several times.

Wen Yifan couldn’t find any trace of that twenty-yuan note.

She still remembers how she felt at that time.

Extremely panicked, yet helpless and confused.

Although thinking about it now, it seems like quite a laughable incident.

It was just twenty yuan.

She had only lost twenty yuan.

Just because of such a small thing.

Wen Yifan didn’t return home all afternoon, wandering around the area until it got dark. She stopped at an empty bus stop, sat on the bench, and stared at the gray cement ground.

Everything seemed to slow down.

She didn’t dare go back.

She was afraid that because of this incident, her uncle would send her to the next relative’s house. And then such things would keep happening endlessly.

She would become a burden that everyone wanted to push away.

And then.

At that moment, Sang Yan appeared before her eyes as if descending from the sky. He seemed to have just come back from playing basketball somewhere, holding a basketball, his upper body soaked, his hair tips still damp with sweat.

Sang Yan walked up to her, bent down, carrying the unique aura of a young man. By then he knew her nickname, and as if on purpose, never called her by her real name again: “Wen Shuangjiang, what are you doing here?”

Hearing his voice, Wen Yifan slowly raised her head to look at him, silent.

Sang Yan raised an eyebrow: “Why do you look like that?”

Still quiet.

Sang Yan nudged her with the basketball: “Say something, will you?”

“Sang Yan,” Wen Yifan finally responded, her voice very soft, “can you lend me twenty yuan?”

“…”

“I came out to buy something and lost the money.”

Sang Yan was stunned for a moment, then reached into his pocket: “I didn’t bring any money with me.”

Wen Yifan immediately lowered her eyes: “Then never mind…”

“What do you mean never mind? I just don’t have money now, doesn’t mean I won’t have any in five minutes.” Sang Yan stood up straight, “Just sit here, five minutes is all I need.”

“…”

After thinking for a moment, Sang Yan pushed the basketball into her hands.

“Wait for me.”

Before Wen Yifan could respond, Sang Yan had already run off, to who knows where. She lowered her head again, staring at the dirty basketball in her hands, looking at its patterns.

The evening breeze blew quietly.

One car came in front of her, then another.

Wen Yifan didn’t know if it had been five minutes or not.

She only remembered that Sang Yan came back very quickly. He was still panting, squatted in front of her, and pulled out twenty yuan from his pocket that he had gotten from somewhere: “Take it, remember to pay me back.”

Wen Yifan’s hand was a bit stiff as she took the money: “Thank you.”

Sang Yan looked up at her, sweat dripping from his forehead: “Why do you look like you’re about to cry?”

“…”

He smiled: “No need to be so moved, right?”

Wen Yifan pressed her lips together and repeated: “Thank you.”

“Alright, it’s not a big deal,” noticing her mood was still low, Sang Yan scratched his head, not knowing how to comfort her, “It’s just twenty yuan you lost.”

“…”

“Next time if you lose money again, just give me a call,” the young man’s eyes were full of vigor as he tugged at the corner of his mouth, “I’ll lend you any amount, okay?”

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