When Sang Yan saw the knife in Che Xingde’s hand, he instantly understood why he had come. As if wanting mutual destruction, Che Xingde swung the knife with fierce force, wildly slashing without reason.
In the process, he inadvertently cut Sang Yan’s arm and waist.
Due to his actions, Sang Yan’s lips tightened into a straight line, his appearance half-light and half-shadow in this lighting. When Che Xingde stabbed at him again, Sang Yan quickly grabbed his arm and forcefully twisted it.
His bones made a cracking sound as they shifted.
Che Xingde cried out in pain, his grip loosening, and the knife fell to the ground.
Sang Yan’s stomach and hands were still bleeding. The dark red color wasn’t visible on his black clothes, but the wound on his hand was deep, blood like a meandering snake winding around his arm, staining the red string on his wrist.
Then dripping onto the ground, drop by drop.
“You’re quite lucky,” Sang Yan still held his dislocated arm, pinning him against the wall, and said in a low voice, “If something had happened that year, this knife wouldn’t be on the ground today.”
If Wen Yifan’s uncle had come home a little later that day.
If she had met the same fate as Guo Ling.
If she had also spent so many years alone in such dark and cold despair.
Thinking of this, Sang Yan’s grip gradually tightened, listening to Che Xingde’s screams, wishing he could cut him into a thousand pieces. His eyes darkened, the veins on his neck bulging, all bloodthirsty thoughts rising in his mind.
In the next moment, he remembered what Wen Yifan had said a while ago.
— “I’ll treat your wounds if you’re hurt, but I’ll be angry too.”
Sang Yan came back to his senses, belatedly feeling the pain. He lowered his eyes to glance at the blood on himself, then dragged Che Xingde towards the exit: “You sure know how to pick a spot to stab.”
“…”
“In this hot weather, how the hell am I supposed to hide a cut on my hand.”
Che Xingde had no strength left to struggle, being dragged out like a sack. He was in so much pain he could barely speak clearly, and started pleading again: “Brother… please, I don’t want to go to jail…”
“You don’t want to go to jail?” Sang Yan sneered, “Well, that girl didn’t want to die either.”
…
Noticing the commotion, passersby gradually gathered to watch. The police officers patrolling nearby also arrived at this moment. After understanding the situation, they took Che Xingde into custody.
The police officers offered to take Sang Yan to the hospital and take his statement along the way.
Sang Yan cooperated but asked them to wait a moment. He returned to his car, intending to get his car keys and phone, but after searching, he couldn’t find his phone. He raised an eyebrow slightly, not too concerned, and turned to get into the police car.
On the way, the police officers helped him treat his wounds while asking about the general situation.
Sang Yan’s wounds were still bleeding, he covered his stomach and calmly answered.
After a while, they were about to reach the city hospital.
The police officer asked again: “Your relationship with the suspect–“
Before he could finish, Sang Yan suddenly interrupted, asking: “What time is it now?”
Police officer: “It’s about 8:40, why?”
Hearing this time, Sang Yan paused, then turned to ask: “Excuse me, could I borrow your phone?”
–
At this time, the roads in the Shang’an area were still somewhat congested.
As time passed, Wen Yifan’s anxiety grew. She wiped her tears with the back of her hand, put Sang Yan’s phone and voice recorder back in her bag, and asked: “Driver, how much longer will we be stuck?”
The driver replied: “It’ll be better once we pass this stretch of road.”
Wen Yifan was about to ask more when suddenly her phone rang. She lowered her head and took out her phone from her pocket.
The missed call was from an unknown number in Nanwu.
Her breath caught, a guess forming in her mind, and she immediately answered.
As she expected.
Sang Yan’s voice came through instantly: “Wen Shuangjiang.”
Hearing his voice, Wen Yifan’s tense emotions finally relaxed. She pressed her lips together hard, directly asking about his condition, her voice still carrying a slight nasal tone: “Are you okay? Where are you hurt?”
It was obvious she knew, so Sang Yan didn’t try to make excuses: “It’s nothing, just a scratch on my hand.”
Wen Yifan didn’t believe him at all, sniffling: “I saw a lot of blood.”
“That’s probably Che Xingde’s, I’m fine,” Sang Yan said lazily. “Alright, really, it’s nothing. Wen Shuangjiang, go home by yourself today. I still need to give a statement, I won’t be back that soon.”
Wen Yifan said softly: “I’m coming to find you.”
Hearing this, Sang Yan was silent for a few seconds, seeming to sigh as if unable to hide it anymore: “Fine, then hail a cab. Come to the emergency department of the city hospital.”
…
When Wen Yifan arrived at the emergency department, Sang Yan’s wounds had already been stitched. The hospital wasn’t very crowded at this time, and two police officers were standing beside him, seemingly asking him questions.
She quickly walked up to Sang Yan, staring at the wound on his arm.
Sang Yan turned his head: “You got here pretty fast.”
Wen Yifan’s face was expressionless as she turned to greet the two police officers. Then, the officers proactively said: “That should be about it, if we have any more questions later, we’ll contact you again.”
Sang Yan looked at them and nodded: “Mm, thank you for your hard work.”
After the two police officers left.
Wen Yifan stared at Sang Yan again. His complexion was paler than usual, his originally light lips now completely bloodless, his whole person looking somewhat sickly. She lowered her eyes and said slowly: “Just a scratch.”
“…”
“And then six stitches.”
Sang Yan glanced up at her, no longer trying to explain, patiently waiting for her previously mentioned anger and scolding. He leaned back in the chair, the anesthetic on his hand not yet worn off, habitually raising his other hand to hold hers.
After a moment of silence.
Instead of her anger, Sang Yan saw her eyes redden, tears starting to fall drop by drop.
“…” Sang Yan was stunned, “Wait, I haven’t even scared you yet, why are you crying?”
Wen Yifan sat down next to him, trying to suppress the tremor in her voice and calm herself. She wiped away her tears again and asked: “Why did you go to catch him?”
Sang Yan found it amusing: “Did I do something wrong?”
“You should have just called the police when you saw him,” Wen Yifan’s tone was a bit harsh, “You didn’t need to do anything extra.”
Sang Yan patiently said: “But he would have run away.”
“So what if he ran, what if he did run away,” Wen Yifan was getting angry with him now, “Even if he ran away, it has nothing to do with you, why did you get involved? You think you’re the only one who can be a hero!”
Silence fell.
After being scolded like this, Sang Yan wasn’t angry, he just looked down at her, “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t like you being like this…” Wen Yifan lowered her head, choking up as she spoke, “Can you not get involved in these things, can you not make me regret telling you… Can’t you just go to work normally every day, come home normally, and then meet me safe and sound…”
Wen Yifan didn’t care about anything else anymore.
Even if she despised Che Xingde.
Even if she wished he would rot in jail for life.
But those thoughts couldn’t compare to even a fraction of Sang Yan.
— Silence.
“How am I not safe?” After a few seconds, Sang Yan laughed instead, drawling, “You can cry directly in front of me now, didn’t you used to hide before?”
Wen Yifan still maintained her original posture, not moving.
“Wen Shuangjiang, why are you unhappy?” Sang Yan pinched her fingertips, neither too hard nor too soft, “Che Xingde has been caught, your aunt has paid the price, and that girl can finally have justice.”
“…”
“And,” Sang Yan said slowly, “This time, I protected you.”
Hearing this, Wen Yifan immediately looked at him, her eyes still red.
Their eyes met.
Frozen in that moment.
“I actually cared a lot, cared too much, about not bothering you when you said not to back then,” Sang Yan’s eyes were pure black, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly, “What was the point of me, a grown man, being so concerned about face?”
Wen Yifan’s lips moved.
Before she could speak, Sang Yan tugged at the corner of his mouth and continued: “Why hold onto such a trivial matter for so many years?”
Back then, they were young and impulsive.
When loving someone, one could pour out their heart and bow their head repeatedly. But they could also be easily crushed by her words, from then on not taking a single step into her world, ending things decisively.
Knowing he couldn’t forget.
Knowing he was still waiting hopelessly.
Yet for the sake of dignity and pride, never again became the one to take initiative.
In those long two years.
He only knew that he was the humble one in the relationship, never noticing her emotional distress, never catching her well-hidden pain and despair.
Never trying to rescue her.
Wen Yifan stammered: “It was my problem to begin with.”
“What does it have to do with you?” Sang Yan raised his hand, gently wiping the corner of her eye, “It’s the problem of that scum Che Xingde.”
“…”
“Can you be happy for me?” Sang Yan smiled, “I put that scum behind bars.”
It was me who personally caught your shadow.
From now on.
There will only be light left in your world.
–
As if she had taken it in, after a long while, Wen Yifan finally looked away. She stared at her own hands, her head lowered, tears still falling, as if they would never stop.
Sang Yan leaned in to watch her cry, his eyes slightly narrowed: “Wait, I’m the one in pain from the stitches, why are you crying?”
Hearing this, Wen Yifan glanced at his arm again, and her tears fell even harder.
“…”
Sang Yan was completely unskilled at comforting people and somehow felt like he was the one who had made her cry. He was a bit frustrated and carefully wiped away her tears: “Okay, okay, okay, I’m not in pain, damn it.”
Wen Yifan sniffled.
Several more seconds passed.
Sang Yan stared at her reddened eyes, his voice very soft, barely audible as he comforted her.
“Don’t cry anymore.”
The emergency department was quiet.
Wen Yifan wiped away her tears with the back of her hand, forcing herself to stop crying.
Seeing this, Sang Yan finally sighed in relief, then suddenly remembered something: “Wen Shuangjiang, what’s wrong with you?”
She responded softly: “Hm?”
Sang Yan: “Not going to report to me? Weren’t you following this news?”
Wen Yifan glanced at him: “I’m not in the mood.”
Sang Yan put his arm on the back of her chair, his fingers lightly tapping, leisurely bringing up old accounts: “How come you’re not? When my house burned down before, weren’t you happily doing a report?”
“…” Wen Yifan looked at his wound again, muttering, “The situation is different.”
Sang Yan chuckled to himself for a while: “Alright, let’s go home.”
The two got up and left the department.
Wen Yifan was led by him as they walked forward, thinking of his injury, she couldn’t help but say: “Sang Yan.”
“What?”
“How unfortunate you are,” Wen Yifan sighed, “to have met me in this life.”
Sang Yan turned back: “How am I unfortunate?”
“You’re always encountering bad things.” Saying this, Wen Yifan thought for a moment, “Did you do something to wrong me in your past life, like–“
“Like what?”
“Maybe I was single until I was old in my past life, and finally an old man took a liking to me, but on our wedding night, the old man eloped with you,” Wen Yifan reasonably guessed. “So in this life, I’m here to give you trouble.”
Sang Yan was silent for a few seconds, then suddenly laughed: “Are you giving an example, or hinting at something?”
Wen Yifan looked up, a beat behind: “Huh?”
“Alright,” Sang Yan took it as an example, raising an eyebrow, “Then I’ve paid my debt, so be good to me in this life.”
“What debt?”
“Didn’t I owe you a man?”
“…”
“In this life, I’m repaying you with myself,” Sang Yan lifted his eyelids, using his fingertip to hook her palm, as if tickling her. “How’s that?”