Sensing the atmosphere was a bit off, Sang Zhi’s gaze flickered between the two of them. She then wisely left the kitchen, giving them some time alone. Before leaving, she thoughtfully closed the door behind her.
Wen Yifan withdrew her gaze and continued cutting the meat on the chopping board. She had tied up all her hair, leaving only a few loose strands around her ears and nape. Her usual gentle smile was gone, replaced by an expressionless face.
Sang Yan walked to her side and, after a few seconds of silence, said as if finding the situation absurd, “Wen Shuangjiang, you thought I was cheating on you, yet you still ate that takeout?”
“…”
This counterattack hit the mark precisely.
Wen Yifan’s movements stopped. His words nearly broke her composure, and that bit of sullenness dissipated. She lowered her eyes, forcibly maintaining her expression, and calmly said, “It was already bought.”
The implication is:
It would be wasteful not to eat it.
After staring at her for a while, Sang Yan didn’t pursue the matter further. He remembered something and took out his phone from his pocket, casually waving it: “Why didn’t you reply to my message?”
After saying this, he added, as if giving her a way out, “Didn’t see it?”
“I saw it,” Wen Yifan turned on the faucet and began washing vegetables, bluntly replying, “Didn’t want to respond.”
“…”
Noticing her actions, Sang Yan rolled up his sleeves, grabbed her hand out of the sink, and took over her task. He was speechless to the point of amusement, wanting to pinch her cheek but refraining due to his wet hands: “Fine.”
Wen Yifan glanced at him, arrogantly wiping her wet hands on his clothes.
Noticing her action, Sang Yan said meaningfully, “Wen Shuangjiang, your temper’s quite big now.”
“…”
Well! Wasn’t it? You who! First disturbed my sleep!!!
Wen Yifan’s mood inexplicably became a bit stifled again. She ignored him, turned around to get a large pot, and filled it with water. As if wanting to draw a clear line between them, she stepped back a few paces after filling the pot.
Sang Yan turned off the faucet, pulled out a paper towel to wipe his hands, and said lazily, “Wen Shuangjiang.”
Wen Yifan put the pot on the induction cooker and pressed the switch.
He split one sentence into three, emphasizing the seriousness of the matter.
“You.”
“Cold violence.”
“Me.”
“…” Hearing this, Wen Yifan immediately looked at him. After thinking for a moment, she suddenly felt that it might indeed be the case, so she made what she considered a reasonable request, “Then don’t talk to me.”
Sang Yan’s eyebrows slightly raised: “Can it be like this?”
Afraid of being accused of cold violence again, Wen Yifan nodded.
Wen Yifan unwrapped a package of noodles, thinking about how much to put in when Sang Yan suddenly hugged her from behind. He was tall, his body slightly bent, chin resting in the crook of her neck.
Their bodies pressed together.
As if using her for support, the force of his body was loose and slack, pressing down on her.
Wen Yifan immediately turned her head.
“What are you doing, I just kissed you once,” Sang Yan’s eyes were dark and gleaming, and the corner of his mouth tugged up as he drawled, “Last night I kissed you so many times and you didn’t get angry.”
“…”
How could these two situations be the same?
Feeling he was particularly annoying, Wen Yifan couldn’t help but pinch his face.
As if by magic, the moment she made this move, the dimple at the corner of Sang Yan’s lips deepened, softening his features. He held back a laugh, his words carrying a hint of pleading: “Alright, it was my fault.”
Wen Yifan stared at him without blinking.
Sang Yan’s gaze met hers, and he added: “Don’t be angry anymore, okay?”
They remained frozen for a few seconds.
Seeing no softening in her expression, Sang Yan’s tone became playful: “Why are you so hard to coax, young lady?”
“…”
“Why don’t you sympathize with me a bit? I barely slept a few hours before being bombarded by that dog Duan Jiaxu to go out and pick someone up. And after coming back with that brat,” Sang Yan said slowly and deliberately, “my wife gives me the cold shoulder.”
Wen Yifan moved her lips, unable to help to say: “I wasn’t that ‘violent’.”
Sang Yan said leisurely: “But it hurts so much.”
“…” Wen Yifan changed her words, “I wasn’t that ‘cold’ either.”
“Hmm? I’m cold though.” Sang Yan tightened his embrace as if trying to embed her entire being into his arms. He lightly bit the soft flesh of her neck, shamelessly using various methods to extinguish her anger, “Warm me up.”
“If you’re cold, wear a jacket,” Wen Yifan felt ticklish, her anger long dissipated due to his words and actions, and she felt like laughing, “You’re a grown man, and don’t you always say you’re a big tough guy? How come you’re acting coy with me now?”
As she said this, she happened to notice the direction of the door from the corner of her eye.
The kitchen door was made of glass, and from this angle, she could still see Sang Zhi playing with her phone on the sofa. Worried about being seen, Wen Yifan’s mood was instantly replaced by another emotion, and she raised her hand to push his head away: “Be careful.”
Sang Yan: “What?”
“Zhizhi is outside, it would be awkward for the young lady,” Wen Yifan felt he was utterly unabashed as if he didn’t mind being seen by anyone, so she could only patiently remind him, “Besides, as her brother, don’t you want to maintain a good image in front of your sister?”
“Good image? I don’t have such a thing in her eyes.”
“…”
After saying this, Sang Yan glanced towards the living room and said leisurely: “Besides, that brat has Duan Jiaxu as a boyfriend, she’s seen her fair share of storms.”
Wen Yifan didn’t quite understand what he meant: “Huh?”
Although he said this, Sang Yan still straightened up, leaning against the nearby countertop and tilting his head to look at her.
“You think that beast is more restrained than me?”
“…”
Hearing Sang Yan say this, Wen Yifan became genuinely curious about what kind of person Duan Jiaxu was. After all, from her perspective, Sang Yan’s level of narcissism and shamelessness had already reached an unrivaled level.
After cooking the noodles, the three of them sat down at the dining table.
Perhaps worried that Wen Yifan might misunderstand because of the receipt, Sang Zhi, for once, didn’t antagonize Sang Yan and carefully explained: “Sister Yifan, that takeout was ordered by my boyfriend. He wanted to get my brother to come pick me up, so he wrote that nonsense remark. It wasn’t anyone else.”
Wen Yifan smiled: “I know, I was just joking with your brother earlier.”
Only then did Sang Zhi breathe a sigh of relief, her gaze still shifting between the two of them. Perhaps feeling uncomfortable with this scene, she felt it was unreasonable and couldn’t help but say: “Sister Yifan, have you been living with my brother for too long?”
Wen Yifan: “Hm?”
“Well,” Sang Zhi mumbled, “lowered your standards for choosing a partner.”
“…” Sang Yan turned his head, his tone cool, “What are you saying?”
Feeling that this was also criticizing Wen Yifan’s boyfriend, Sang Zhi held back but still didn’t continue on this topic. She lowered her head and continued eating her noodles, then glanced at Wen Yifan again, changing her approach: “Sister Yifan, you’re too beautiful.”
The implication was abundantly clear.
Sang Yan hadn’t expected to bring home a potential enemy, leaned back in his chair, and stared at Sang Zhi expressionlessly: “Brat, what was it you wanted me to help with earlier?”
Sang Zhi, who had wanted him to put in a good word for Duan Jiaxu to their parents, immediately fell silent: “…”
After a moment.
Sang Zhi reluctantly added, steeling herself: “But my brother is quite handsome too.”
“…”
……
After the meal, Wen Yifan wanted to go back to the studio to practice dancing some more. Thinking that Sang Yan hadn’t slept much, she told him to catch up on sleep, made up an excuse to go out, and took Sang Zhi home along the way.
After practicing for about two months, Wen Yifan would use any free time she had to practice in an empty conference room at the studio.
She was preparing to dance her formerly most proficient ballet piece, “The Nutcracker.”
After many years, her body’s flexibility and agility were no longer comparable to before. During this practice process, although she felt tired and sore, Wen Yifan gradually found the feeling she had during her training back then.
The frustration and unwillingness from being forced to give up back then were also slowly dissipating.
Thinking about Sang Yan’s expression when he saw it, Wen Yifan inexplicably felt happy and began to have unlimited motivation.
–
The next afternoon was the rehearsal for the annual party, with the official start at 7 PM.
As it neared 7 PM, Wen Yifan received a message from Sang Yan saying that something sudden had come up on his end and he might be a bit late. She stared at it for several seconds, and although she had known beforehand that he might not be able to make it, perhaps because she had prepared for so long, receiving such news still left her feeling a bit disappointed.
Especially since her performance was quite early in the lineup.
However, this emotion didn’t last long. Thinking that it would be fine as long as he could see it, Wen Yifan asked Su Tian to help her record a video later. Then, she sent Sang Yan Fu Zhuang’s business card and replied: [If I don’t respond to you later, just have Da Zhuang bring you up.]
Sang Yan: [Okay]
The atmosphere at the annual party was lively, with several consecutive acts aimed at raising the mood, either skits or upbeat songs. Wen Yifan watched and laughed, occasionally glancing at her phone. As it was almost her turn, there was still no sign of Sang Yan arriving.
Wen Yifan stopped waiting, gave Fu Zhuang a few instructions, and then headed backstage.
……
Everything was going smoothly, but just as Sang Yan was about to leave the company, a problem suddenly arose with the project, requiring some overtime. After barely finishing up, he finally left the company and drove to the location Wen Yifan had sent him.
When he arrived downstairs, Sang Yan sent Wen Yifan a message.
There was no reply.
So Sang Yan added Fu Zhuang on WeChat.
Soon, Sang Yan saw Fu Zhuang’s figure.
As soon as he saw him, Fu Zhuang urgently pulled him inside: “Bro, hurry up! Sister Yifan has started performing! I’ve been dying to see it! Don’t slow me down!”
“…” Sang Yan’s brow twitched, wanting to say something, but what came out was, “Then walk faster.”
The two took the elevator up.
Fu Zhuang was extremely talkative, his mouth hadn’t stopped since he saw Sang Yan, chattering away. The main topic was all about Wen Yifan, endlessly praising her: “Sister Yifan is amazing, she has so many skills. And she’s been practicing for this performance for so long, every day! We’d go home after work, but she’d still go to the conference room to practice!”
“…”
“Ah, if only I could dance,” Fu Zhuang sighed, “I would have accompanied her. Otherwise, don’t you think Sister Yifan must be lonely? But bro, why don’t you keep her company? Even if you just stand there, you’d look good.”
The more Sang Yan listened, the more he felt something was off.
But before he could ask, they had already arrived at the annual party venue. The inside was dimly lit, with only the stage brightly illuminated. It seemed a new round of performances was about to begin.
The host was speaking.
Fu Zhuang immediately quieted down, afraid of disturbing others.
Below the stage were dozens of round tables with drinks and snacks, seats arranged by department. Sang Yan was pushed into a seat by Fu Zhuang, where he could see Wen Yifan’s bag and phone placed nearby.
At the same time, the host finished the introduction and left the stage.
Sang Yan looked up at the stage, his expression freezing.
At this moment, Wen Yifan was standing alone on the stage. She was wearing a white ballet dress, sleeveless with tulle, exposing a large area of her collarbone and swan-like arms, her back bare, with smooth and beautiful shoulder blades.
Her beauty was striking and outstanding, her skin so fair it seemed to glow.
The skirt was slightly puffy, wrapped in layer upon layer of tulle.
The familiar music of “The Nutcracker” began to play.
Joyful and light, like bells tinkling by the ear, irresistibly drawing people in. Wen Yifan faced the audience, and rose on her tiptoes, her body extremely flexible, moving with the music, hitting every beat perfectly.
Her neck was held high, like a proud white swan, spinning on the stage.
Completely unprepared for such a sight, Sang Yan stared at the stage, his vision entirely occupied by Wen Yifan, unable to look away even slightly. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he gradually overlaid this scene with the memory of the girl from years ago.
The military training for new students at Nanwu No.1 High School lasted for a week, always scheduled after the final exams of the first semester each year.
The location was at the city’s Agricultural Science Institute.
For that military training evening party, because of her status as a dance student, Wen Yifan had been forcibly recruited by the teacher to perform.
It was the night before the end of military training, the atmosphere of the party was relaxed, and the instructors weren’t as strict as usual. At first, they made everyone sit up straight, but later they stopped enforcing it.
Sang Yan had no interest in these things and was drowsy throughout, finding it extremely boring. He only wished for the party to end quickly so he could go back to the dormitory and sleep.
Until Wen Yifan’s performance.
Because they were in the same class, perhaps feeling proud, the classmates sitting around Sang Yan were very supportive, making all sorts of wild cheers. There was even a loud-voiced boy who stood up and shouted: “Wen Yifan is Class 17’s goddess!”
But the girl seemed to hear nothing, completely unaffected.
She stood in the center of the dance floor, wearing a pure white dress, her light-colored hair tied up, revealing a clean forehead. Around her was darkness, but she was immersed in her dance, not at all stage-shy, like a delicate porcelain doll.
She seemed to glow.
Sang Yan couldn’t quite remember his feelings at that time.
He only knew that he, who had been waiting for the party to end all evening, seemed to have watched that performance a bit longer than the others.
Later.
After the military training ended, Wen Yifan became famous in their grade because of this performance. Not only students from their grades, but even senior students came to ask for her contact information.
For some reason.
Sang Yan had never paid attention to this girl before, but after that evening party, he found himself coincidentally encountering these situations every time. He sat in his seat, coldly watching as Wen Yifan good-naturedly rejected one person after another.
Wen Yifan treated everyone equally.
Regardless of the other person’s personality, grades, or appearance, she treated them all the same. She was extremely patient, never hurting anyone’s feelings, yet rejecting them very clearly.
She was like him, yet not quite the same.
She was equally proud at her core, but unlike his disdain for others, she was gentle to the extreme.
Like a dazzling light, yet not glaring.
One afternoon, Sang Yan returned to the classroom after playing basketball with his classmates, intending to grab his keys and head back to the dormitory for a shower. Just as he reached the door, he saw Wen Yifan had also just returned, currently blocked at the doorway by a boy talking to her.
Sang Yan watched for a few seconds, then withdrew his gaze and returned to his seat.
He found his keys in the drawer, but for some reason, he didn’t rush to leave, still sitting in place.
After about half a minute, Wen Yifan also entered the classroom. She was wearing her dance practice clothes with a jacket over them. She returned to her seat, seemingly just back to get her meal card, and was about to leave quickly.
At this moment, Sang Yan suddenly called out to her: “Hey, junior.”
Their seats were close, separated only by an aisle.
Wen Yifan turned back, not minding his form of address, and responded: “What is it?”
Sang Yan asked casually: “Do you have a boyfriend?”
Not knowing why he asked this, Wen Yifan still answered honestly: “No.”
Sang Yan raised his eyes, implying: “Then why do you reject everyone?”
This matter had nothing to do with Sang Yan.
But Wen Yifan had a good nature and felt she had no reason not to answer. She wanted to say it was because of the ban on early dating but felt that would be too vague. After thinking for a moment, she simply said directly: “I haven’t met someone I like.”
The girl’s voice was clear, with a hint of gentleness.
Yet it powerfully, word by word, struck his heart.
Someone she liked.
Silence fell.
The classroom was empty except for the two of them, excessively quiet, with sunlight streaming in from outside. The air was filled with the scent of youth, and they could hear the sound of students running on the playground, as well as an unknown heartbeat.
In that instant, Sang Yan fully understood.
Why he had never noticed before, but now kept encountering these situations. Why the girl who had previously been no different from other casual classmates in his eyes suddenly appeared frequently in his vision.
Was it a coincidence?
It didn’t seem so.
He had simply.
Gone from not caring to caring.
The young man leaned back in his chair, looking up at her slightly. His hair tips were still damp with sweat, his eyes clear and bright. He tilted his head slightly, suddenly smiling, his words as arrogant as ever.
“Is that so?”
But this time, it carried an extremely obvious certainty.
“–Then you should have met him now.”