Wen Yifan’s brow twitched, and she felt an inexplicable shock inside.
What the—
How could he—
Come back from the dead???
And what did that question mark mean?
Wen Yifan shifted her gaze, staring at the five words she had sent.
—Happy New Year! ^_^
For a moment, she felt as if she had forgotten how to read.
What she sent should have been a blessing, not some vulgar language…
And to be honest, that single question mark was quite intimidating.
Even through the screen, she felt a jolt from him.
His reaction was like encountering someone she had long since severed ties with. No matter what the other person said, even if it was a blessing, he had to throw a question mark back at her.
Wen Yifan hesitated and typed in the chat box: [Do you know it’s me?]
Before she could finish, she noticed someone brushing past her out of the corner of her eye. Instinctively, she looked up and saw Sang Yan standing about a meter in front of her, next to a girl.
The girl was slender and quietly looking down, seemingly engrossed in her phone.
Recalling Sang Yan’s conversation with his mother, this must be his younger sister.
Wen Yifan had a bit of an impression of the girl. She had seen her in high school; her name was Sang Zhi, six or seven years younger than Sang Yan. Back then, she was small and looked like a porcelain doll, and Wen Yifan had to bend down to talk to her.
Now, she had grown to be about the same height as Wen Yifan.
Sang Yan lazily said, “Little brat.”
Sang Zhi looked up, “What?”
Sang Yan continued, “I heard you’ve been under a lot of pressure lately?”
Sang Zhi replied dismissively, “No, I haven’t.”
Sang Yan continued on his own, “Is it because the college entrance exam is coming up?”
Wen Yifan was only one person away from them.
At this distance, their conversation was as clear as if it were on a TV screen right in front of her. She didn’t want to eavesdrop, but their words flowed into her ears effortlessly—
“I said no.”
“Why think so much?” Sang Yan said slowly as if he were fulfilling a task assigned by their mother. “I didn’t study hard back then, yet I still got into Nanwu University. Besides, even if your aptitude isn’t great, our family has the money to let you repeat a year.”
“You didn’t study? You think I don’t remember?” Sang Zhi shot him a look, her tone growing irritated. “Don’t worry, you struggled to get into Nanwu University, and I could get in with my eyes closed.”
“…”
“And,” after finishing her complaint, Sang Zhi added, “I heard Mom say you quit your job today?”
“…”
“That can’t be true, right?”
Sang Yan turned his head, “What does that have to do with you?”
Sang Zhi continued, “Are you embarrassed to say you got fired?”
Before Sang Yan could respond, his phone rang. He glanced down and suddenly said, “If you can’t listen to me, should I let your ‘brother’ comfort you for a bit?”
“What—” Perhaps seeing the caller ID, Sang Zhi instantly fell silent, and after a few seconds, she quietly said, “No.”
After that, Sang Yan didn’t say much more and walked back to the pavilion to answer the call.
It quieted down.
Although Wen Yifan didn’t fully understand some of the conversation, being forced to eavesdrop on familiar voices at such close range made her feel a bit uncomfortable. Fortunately, wearing a mask gave her a sense of security.
Wen Yifan turned her screen back on.
Noticing the unfinished message in the input box, she felt it was inappropriate and deleted everything. She wanted to confirm cautiously whether he knew it was her WeChat, but after thinking it over, she only cautiously replied with: [?]
He was probably still on the phone, as there was no immediate response.
She stared at the screen for two seconds.
Suddenly, Wen Yifan realized something.
Even if Sang Yan had blocked her…
Her Moments.
Were not blocked.
Sang Yan.
“…”
Thinking this, Wen Yifan quickly opened her Moments.
There had been so much going on lately that her last post was over two months ago. At that time, she was still in Yi He City, and it seemed she had posted a photo with her colleagues while at a bar.
Wen Yifan’s gaze fixed on the screen.
What came into view was a selfie of her with her former colleagues.
In the photo, everyone was smiling brightly, showing their teeth and striking various poses. Wen Yifan sat in the lower left corner, her skin so pale it looked overexposed, gently gazing at the camera with a slight smile.
Her features were strikingly clear.
…
The line gradually moved into the restroom, and just as a few stalls became available, it was her turn. Wen Yifan snapped back to reality, put her phone away, and walked inside.
A moment later, Wen Yifan walked out.
The sink area was shared between men and women, about two to three meters wide.
Wen Yifan turned on the faucet, her mind a bit chaotic.
So back at the bar, he was pretending not to know her.
The mass text blessing was also deliberately not sent to her.
His first reaction upon seeing her message was to retaliate.
Wen Yifan looked up in the mirror and saw Sang Yan still standing in the same spot. He seemed to have finished his call, one hand in his pocket while the other fiddled with his phone.
She wondered if he had replied to her message.
The next moment, Wen Zhi also came out of the restroom and walked to the nearby sink. But the faucet seemed to be broken, as it wouldn’t produce any water.
Wen Yifan had just finished washing her hands and offered, “You can use this one.”
Sang Zhi immediately replied, “Thank you.”
When their eyes met, she seemed to pause for a moment.
Wen Yifan didn’t notice, looking down as she took out her phone while walking outside. She turned on the screen, and the interface was still on the chat window with Sang Yan.
This time, he hadn’t even bothered to send her a single punctuation mark.
Wen Yifan understood the reason, paused for a moment, and couldn’t help but type in the chat box, “Should we just delete each other?”
She quickly deleted it again.
Seeing the two question marks they had just exchanged, Wen Yifan paused, suddenly feeling that this chat record was filled with tension as if it meant, “Only you would throw a question mark, huh?”
But her intention was not to argue with him.
Wen Yifan didn’t want to create any unpleasantness during the holiday, so she thought about how to back down.
She typed one word.
【Then】
Staring at Sang Yan’s question mark and her own “Happy” message, she hesitated and continued typing.
【Not happy is fine.】
“…”
After successfully sending the message, Wen Yifan found herself getting closer to Sang Yan’s position. As they brushed past each other, she awkwardly lowered her head, catching a glimpse of him seemingly opening WeChat.
The man’s long eyelashes cast shadows as he focused on the screen.
Wen Yifan thought it might be an illusion, but she seemed to hear him let out a soft scoff.
Her back stiffened.
She continued walking for quite a while.
Only when she had put some distance between them did the inexplicable feeling of guilt finally fade. She looked back at her screen, and as she expected, there was still no reply.
She sighed, realizing she didn’t have time to dwell on this.
Feeling that she had been gone for a bit too long, Wen Yifan hurried back to the filming point.
It was much the same as when she left.
The square was decorated, with plants and small structures wrapped in colorful lights, creating a festive atmosphere. People were coming and going, and staff were maintaining order, all looking cheerful.
All the preparations were complete, just waiting for the arrival of the new year.
Qian Weihua and Zhen Yu were chatting. Fu Zhuang stood beside them, listening attentively without saying a word. When he saw Wen Yifan return, he immediately approached her cautiously.
Fu Zhuang was a new intern hired two weeks ago, as a senior in college. He was not as tall as his name suggested, thin like a bamboo pole. He had a youthful face but a surprisingly deep voice: “Sister if you had come any later…”
Wen Yifan thought something was wrong: “What happened?”
Fu Zhuang said dramatically, “You might have only seen my frozen corpse.”
“…” Wen Yifan nodded, “Thanks for that, I needed a topic.”
“In your eyes! I’m just a topic!” Fu Zhuang complained, shivering, but his voice was lively. “Damn, I’m so cold, the wind is making my nose run.”
Wen Yifan looked at him.
Boys his age usually prioritize style over warmth, and Fu Zhuang was no exception. He was only wearing a denim jacket, which offered no protection against the cold, and his lips were turning purple.
Moreover, he was so thin that it seemed like he might be blown away by the sea breeze at any moment.
“It’s always colder by the sea. Next time you go out to cover news, dress warmer,” Wen Yifan said, pulling a hand warmer from her pocket and offering it to him. “Put this in your pocket to warm your hands.”
“Hey, no need,” Fu Zhuang hadn’t thought of taking her things. “Sister, you keep it. You’re a girl, you must be colder than I am.”
“But I already have two in my pocket,” Wen Yifan replied. “I have no place to put this one.”
“…”
This time, Fu Zhuang took it without hesitation and casually changed the subject: “By the way, Sister, have you ever seen a fireworks show before?”
Wen Yifan replied, “Not one this large.”
Fu Zhuang asked, “Is it useful to make wishes on this thing?”
Wen Yifan said, “No.”
“…” Fu Zhuang muttered, “I just wish to find a girlfriend next year.”
Wen Yifan laughed, “That wish won’t come true.”
“Yifan, how can you say that!” Fu Zhuang exclaimed. “Then I’ll wish to grow five more centimeters! Can a boy still grow taller at twenty…”
This time, Wen Yifan didn’t discourage him.
As they talked, Fu Zhuang suddenly pointed in a direction: “Hey, about that height, my dream is to be that tall. I’d be satisfied if I were just half a head shorter than him.”
Wen Yifan looked over and fell silent.
It was quite a coincidence; the person Fu Zhuang was pointing at was Sang Yan.
One could say they were quite fated, or perhaps it was just that he was haunting them.
He stood about ten meters away, leaning against the railing, his coat billowing in the wind, his chin slightly lowered as he casually played with his phone.
Sang Zhi, who had just been with him, had already disappeared.
“That’s exactly the body type I dream of,” Fu Zhuang sighed. “Can I get my head on his body under the witness of the sky and fireworks today?”
Wen Yifan shifted her gaze back, amused: “Why don’t you just steal his face too?”
Fu Zhuang had that idea as well, his words wavering: “Isn’t it a bit much to take two things?”
“…”
Qian Weihua suddenly called them over.
Perhaps feeling guilty for neglecting them for too long, he became quite earnest and began discussing various precautions for the outdoor live broadcast.
Time gradually passed.
As New Year’s approached, the atmosphere grew more festive. The LED display on the distant skyscraper had already started the countdown, and the crowd was buzzing with excitement, beginning to chant along with the numbers at the last minute.
“—59, 58, 57.”
…
“—5, 4, 3.”
“—2!”
“—1!”
As the last number fell, countless fireworks shot up, drawing different colored lines in the night sky before bursting open at various points. The dazzling lights bloomed into various shapes, overlapping and bursting forth.
Everyone present raised their phones, finding what they deemed the best angle to record the scene.
Once Qian Weihua had no further instructions, Wen Yifan also took out her phone to snap a few pictures.
When she was blocked by the people in front, she shifted to find a better view.
The entire display lasted over ten minutes.
Before she knew it, Wen Yifan was pushed out of the crowd, reaching the railing. Noticing that the fireworks show was about to end, she intended to return to find Qian Weihua when suddenly someone bumped into her.
Wen Yifan stumbled forward uncontrollably.
Then she collided with someone.
She quickly stepped back, looked up, and instinctively said, “Sorry.”
As the words slipped out, she realized the person she had bumped into was Sang Yan. He was looking down at her, his expression inscrutable, seemingly on a call.
“—Yeah, I’m getting ready to head back.”
Out of politeness, Wen Yifan forced herself to apologize again.
Sang Yan casually sized her up for a moment, then nodded at her.
As if to indicate he had heard her.
As Wen Yifan walked back, she faintly heard him say to the person on the phone.
“Happy New Year.”
Returning to Qian Weihua’s side, Wen Yifan absentmindedly touched her face. When she felt the mask still on her face, she paused, and her nerves relaxed.
With her face covered, he probably wouldn’t recognize her… right?
…
**On the other side.**
On the other end of the phone, Qian Fei, Sang Yan’s college roommate, and friend, was rambling on, interrupted twice by Sang Yan, who fell silent for a few seconds: “Oh, I don’t care when you’re going home, alright? But thanks, bro, and Happy New Year to you too.”
Sang Yan raised an eyebrow: “Thanks for what?”
Qian Fei replied, “Aren’t you sending blessings to your dad?”
“Can you not be so self-important?” Sang Yan drawled lazily, “I didn’t say that.”