As if finding it absurd, Sang Yan let out a laugh of disbelief. "What?"
Wen Yifan found Qian Weihua in her contacts and called him. While waiting for him to pick up, she asked again, "Can you tell me the name of the residential area and the specific address?"
Sang Yan: "?"
Before Wen Yifan could get an answer, the call was answered.
Before she could speak, Qian Weihua rapidly fired off a string of words: "Perfect timing, I was just about to call you. You just left the office, right? I just got a hotline report—there's a fire at Zhongnan Shijicheng nearby. You need to come with me to the scene right now."
Wen Yifan quickly agreed, gave him her exact location, and hung up.
She met Sang Yan's gaze.
The atmosphere felt oddly quiet.
Wen Yifan took the initiative to speak. "Do you live in Zhongnan Shijicheng?"
Sang Yan: "..."
"I have to work overtime unexpectedly, so I’ll treat you to dinner another time, okay?" She paused for a few seconds, then hesitantly added, "My colleague is driving over now. Do you want a ride back with us?"
...
Three minutes later, the two boarded the station’s news van.
Qian Weihua was driving, and Fu Zhuang had also come along, sitting in the back seat. Sang Yan’s car was parked in the lot at Yaqou, and since he didn’t feel like going back for it, Wen Yifan had him sit in the back while she took the passenger seat.
Fu Zhuang immediately asked, "Yifan-jie, who’s this?"
Wen Yifan buckled her seatbelt and replied casually, "A high school classmate of mine. He lives in Zhongnan Shijicheng—probably the owner of the apartment where the fire broke out. He needs to go check on the situation."
Qian Weihua started the car and said in surprise, "What a coincidence! The year’s barely started, and you’re already dealing with something like this."
Fu Zhuang blurted out, "Could this be some kind of bad omen?"
"..." Wen Yifan said, "Da Zhuang, don’t talk nonsense."
"But, bro, if something like this happens to you, it must be a good sign," Fu Zhuang quickly corrected himself, glancing at Sang Yan. "Fire burns the gate of wealth! You’re definitely going to strike it rich this year!"
Sang Yan gave him a sidelong glance, too lazy to respond.
"Hey, bro," Fu Zhuang leaned in slightly, feeling like Sang Yan looked familiar. "Why do I feel like I’ve seen you somewhere before? Have we met?"
Wen Yifan sat in the front, checking her equipment. Hearing this, she instinctively expected Sang Yan to retort with something like, "That’s the lamest pickup line ever," but after a moment, he remained silent.
She didn’t dwell on it.
Assuming he just wasn’t in the mood right now.
Zhongnan Shijicheng was very close—just a few minutes’ drive away.
By the time they arrived, fire trucks and ambulances were already on the scene. Many residents had been evacuated, clearly having fled in a hurry. Some were only in pajamas, without even a coat.
Perhaps because they’d never experienced anything like this before, they were now huddled together, chattering nervously.
It was nearly 9 p.m.
At some point, rain had begun to fall—a fine, icy drizzle that felt like it carried shards of cold.
The fire had broken out in Unit B on the eighth floor of Building 6. Flames had shattered the windows, lashing out like demons and spreading upward. The light rain did nothing to quell them, evaporating on contact.
Sang Yan’s apartment was directly above the affected unit.
He looked up, his tongue pressing against the corner of his mouth, his brow twitching slightly.Wen Yifan could probably guess why he had reacted that way. The person calling him was likely unreliable to begin with, and given how sudden the situation was, he probably hadn’t taken it seriously at all.
A moment later, Sang Yan stepped aside to answer the call.
Qian Weihua carried the camera, documenting the surrounding scene.
Emergency vehicles flashed red and blue lights as firefighters moved back and forth—putting out the fire, rescuing people, and maintaining order at the scene—with no time to spare.
The rain grew heavier, darkening the pale concrete beneath. The night and the downpour intensified the cold. The surroundings were noisy and chaotic, a mix of voices and commotion, like a disaster scene from a movie.
Wen Yifan approached the crowd to interview an evacuated resident. "Auntie, sorry to bother you. I’m a reporter from Conveyance , a segment on the Nancheng TV Urban Channel. Were you a resident of Building 6?"
The woman she interviewed was holding a child and spoke with a thick accent. "Yes, I was."
"Which floor did you live on? How did you notice the fire?"
"Fifth floor! I suddenly heard an explosion—scared me half to death! I thought it was fireworks at first!" Spotting the camera, the woman became especially animated. "The noise outside was loud too, so I ran out to look."
A man nearby chimed in, "Yeah! It happened several times! The situation’s already under control—"
BOOM—!
Before he could finish, a deafening explosion erupted from the still-burning eighth floor. Flames, orange-red and violent, stretched outward, accompanied by billowing smoke—as if trying to illuminate the night or devour it whole.
Gasps and cries filled the air.
Qian Weihua swiftly raised the camera, capturing the scene.
Wen Yifan followed the sound, her gaze settling on the ninth floor. Then, almost instinctively, she glanced toward Sang Yan. He stood motionless, watching the flames with an unreadable expression, lowering the phone from his ear.
She looked away, belated sympathy rising in her chest.
...
Fortunately, the damage from the explosion wasn’t too severe.
Only one firefighter sustained minor injuries.
All residents had been evacuated from the building, except for a child under ten who had been trapped in an elevator and was later rescued by firefighters. It took nearly an hour before the fire was fully contained.
The fire department was still clearing the scene.
The cause of the fire remained unknown. Nearly everything inside the apartment had been reduced to ashes. Units on the same floor, as well as those above and below, suffered minor damage—with the most severe impact on Unit B on the ninth floor directly above. The kitchen and living room were completely gutted.
After interviewing those involved in the incident, and with the owner’s permission and a firefighter’s guidance, Wen Yifan and Fu Zhuang followed Qian Weihua to the scene.
Qian Weihua filmed the interior while listening to the firefighter’s brief explanation, occasionally asking questions.
When they reached Unit B on the ninth floor, Wen Yifan ran into Sang Yan again.
They conducted a short interview with him, this time with Fu Zhuang asking the questions. Since they knew each other, his tone was casual. "Bro, how are you feeling right now?"
Sang Yan clearly found the question utterly ridiculous and replied with sarcasm, "I’m overjoyed."
"..."
"Hope you can be as happy as I am."
"..."
Qian Weihua took over. "Was the damage from the fire significant for you?"
Sang Yan answered flatly, "Not really."
Qian Weihua pressed, "We just saw the condition of the apartment. There’s barely a single spot left untouched."
Sang Yan: "So what?""……"
Perhaps realizing his own audacity, Sang Yan's next words were noticeably more cooperative: "I didn't keep anything valuable here. Besides the house and furniture, only a phone got burned. But it was already unusable anyway."
Wen Yifan was taking notes beside him when her hand suddenly paused. But she didn't engage in any further conversation with him.
Later, the group headed back to the station to write the report and edit the footage.
Fu Zhuang couldn't help but say, "Sis Yifan, your classmate is both tragic and impressive. His house burned down like this, yet he's still so calm."
Qian Weihua added, "You should comfort him too, tell him to discuss compensation with the property management and insurance company. He just needs to find a new place to stay for now—no need to be too upset about this."
Wen Yifan casually hummed in agreement.
Though she didn't think Sang Yan needed her comfort.
Fu Zhuang started rambling again: "But Sis, you're also having it rough—having to go back to the station for overtime on your day off tomorrow. I already told the teacher I could handle it alone—"
Here, he lowered his voice to a volume only the two of them could hear, grumbling.
"But he said I'm too useless."
Hearing this, Wen Yifan nodded. "True."
"……"
Though the night had been chaotic.
This little episode, as far as Wen Yifan was concerned, was over.
The fire was just an unexpected incident, and Sang Yan happened to be the victim. She returned to the station to write the report, submitted the news segment, and once it passed review, the matter was concluded.
Whatever the victim needed to deal with afterward had nothing to do with her.
Wen Yifan retrieved the keys and returned them to the previous landlord, bidding a final farewell to the old place. Since she wouldn’t run into Sang Yan, there was no need for her to proactively bring up the dinner invitation through communication tools.
In the near future, the only problem she needed to solve.
Was finding a reliable, suitable new roommate.
Wang Linlin completed the handover of her work and moved out entirely before the new week began.
As if to maintain her image as a good roommate to the very end, Wang Linlin emphasized again before leaving that she would definitely help find a new roommate and told Wen Yifan not to worry at all.
Since sharing an apartment was a long-term commitment, Wen Yifan hadn’t planned to live with someone Wang Linlin introduced.
Because there was a high chance that Wang Linlin’s referral would be someone Wen Yifan didn’t know. If conflicts arose later because of this, she’d have to find another place, which would only add to the hassle.
But since Wang Linlin was so enthusiastic, Wen Yifan could only politely agree.
Wen Yifan had already asked Zhong Siqiao for help and had been waiting for her news. If Zhong Siqiao couldn’t find anyone either, she’d have to post online to look for someone.
The following Friday.
Just as Su Haoan was about to leave, he received a call from Sang Yan.
His tone carried a hint of impatience as he got straight to the point: "Help me rent a place."
Su Haoan: "?"
"Somewhere near 'Overtime.' I’ll only stay for a few months—once my place is renovated, I’ll move back."
"Are you insane? Am I a real estate agent? Just go back to your own place."
"Fine, I’ll just move in with you," Sang Yan said. "Hanging up."
"……Wait, wait, wait." Never expecting him to be this shameless, Su Haoan gritted his teeth. "Pick a neighborhood. I’ll ask my friends about it later."
Silence.
After a few seconds, the reply came: "Imperial Capital Flower City."After hanging up the phone, Su Haoan suddenly recalled what Wang Linlin had said to him over the past few days. Her tone had been a mix of complaint and coquetry, asking him to help her roommate find a new one because she genuinely couldn’t find anyone suitable.
Su Haoan felt like cursing.
Did his handsome, wealthy, and tall appearance really make him look like a real estate agent?
As he pondered who to ask for help, a flash of inspiration struck him—he remembered where Wang Linlin had originally lived.
It seemed to be Imperial Capital Flower City.
If Su Haoan wasn’t mistaken.
Her roommate… was Wen Yifan, wasn’t she?
Su Haoan paused mid-dial, raising an eyebrow.
During this period leading up to the New Year, the frequency of various incidents had increased.
Wen Yifan was busier than usual, sometimes not even having time to go home, treating the TV station as her second residence. She was utterly exhausted, to the point where she felt she could fall asleep standing up.
The relentless overtime left her with no energy to think about anything else. As for Sang Yan, whom she had frequently encountered before, since they hadn’t crossed paths again, he had reverted to being that old classmate she hadn’t seen or contacted in ages.
Whenever she thought of him during rare moments of leisure, Wen Yifan’s only thought was that they probably wouldn’t meet again.
Sunday night.
Wen Yifan finally finished her work and found a brief window to go home and catch her breath. She unlocked the door with her key and stepped into the entryway, only to see the back of a man.
The man was tall and lean, seemingly having just arrived himself, as he hadn’t even taken off his shoes yet. A suitcase stood beside him.
Wen Yifan’s mind went blank, her breath catching.
She was suddenly reminded of the home invasion case she had covered a couple of days ago—the female victim had been stabbed twice for resisting and was still lying unconscious in the hospital…
Hearing the noise, the man turned around.
Their eyes met.
The moment she saw his face, the horrifying images in Wen Yifan’s mind instantly dissipated. She exhaled in relief, her legs still slightly weak, the surge of terror gradually replaced by bewilderment. “What are you doing here?”
Sang Yan frowned. “I was about to ask you the same thing.”
“I live here,” Wen Yifan said, her thoughts in disarray. “How did you get in?”
As the words left her mouth, she noticed the key in his hand.
—It was Wang Linlin’s.
“…”
After a long pause.
The unbelievable thought forming in Wen Yifan’s mind was confirmed by his next words.
“I just moved in.”
“…”
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