First Frost

"……"

Wen Yifan truly hadn't expected that after maintaining this prolonged silence—treating her as complete air—the reason he'd finally decided to "condescend" to speak to her was actually to drum up some business for his bar.

She paused for three seconds before asking, "Is your bar really struggling that badly?"

"Just not making much profit. Gotta put some effort into promotion," Sang Yan said lazily. "Coming? If you do, I'll be generous—give you a roommate discount."

This slightly piqued Wen Yifan's interest. "What exactly is the discount?"

If there was a discount, that would be ideal.

She could support his business while saving some money herself.

A win-win situation.

Sang Yan tilted his head, drawing out his words as he considered. "Let's say... 99% off."

"......" Wen Yifan couldn't believe her ears. "What?"

Sang Yan didn't seem to find anything wrong with his statement, patiently repeating, "99% off."

"......"

No wonder he wasn't making money.

Just wait for bankruptcy then.

After staring at him for a moment, Wen Yifan finally said, "That is... quite generous."

She didn't outright refuse. "I'll think about it."

"Fine. Let me know in advance if you're coming," Sang Yan went back to his phone. "I'll reserve a table for you."

"Okay." Remembering how much he'd helped her before, Wen Yifan kindly added, "Promotion is important, but you should also consider the store's decor."

Sang Yan looked up. "Meaning?"

"Your bar's sign is too inconspicuous. It doesn't look like a bar—more like a..." Wen Yifan hesitated, unsure if this would offend him, "...barbershop."

"......"

"The first time I went, it took me forever to find 'Overtime'," Wen Yifan admitted honestly. "And it didn't exactly make me want to go in."

The living room fell silent.

Unsure if her advice had crossed a line, Wen Yifan felt she might not have the right to offer such critical feedback. Finishing her coffee, she tried to lighten the mood. "But it's just a suggestion."

"Since it's so hard to find," Sang Yan repeated meaningfully, seemingly unbothered by her comments, "and so uninviting—"

He paused dramatically, his tone teasing, "Then why did you come to my bar the first time?"

"......"

Wen Yifan choked, unable to answer.

After all, even if she hadn't initiated it, her motives hadn't been pure.

Surprisingly, Sang Yan didn't press further. He glanced away casually. "I'll consider your suggestion."

Wen Yifan exhaled in relief. "Then—"

"But," Sang Yan's tone turned cocky, "I don't plan to change it."

"......"

Wen Yifan felt like this entire conversation had been a waste of time. After finishing the cookies, she put on her coat and left. By the time she reached the office, it was nearly lunchtime.

Su Tian, already at her desk, asked, "Why are you so late today?"

"Not much going on—just an interview this afternoon," Wen Yifan replied. "Compared to work, my life's more important. If I don't sleep more, I might not make it to next year.""Oh, yeah. On my days off, I don’t even want to leave the house. I just want to lie in bed all day," Su Tian groaned, sprawled across the table. "Can time just hurry up already? I can’t wait for the New Year—I need a break!"

Suddenly, Su Tian sat up straight. "Oh, I forgot to tell you something."

"What?"

"Wang Linlin just messaged me on WeChat, asking you to reply to her," Su Tian said. "Did you not respond to her? But what does she want from you? She seemed pretty urgent, even reaching out to me about it."

Wen Yifan turned on her computer. "I’ll check later."

Her expression remained calm and unreadable, so Su Tian didn’t notice anything unusual. "But Yifan, you’re really too nice. She moved out right after you moved in. If I were you, I’d have moved out too."

"After all, it was her rental," Su Tian rolled her eyes. "She’s probably thrilled—she got to move out early and even got her deposit back with so much time left on the lease."

"It’s not a big deal," Wen Yifan said. "I really like the place."

Su Tian sighed. "That’s why I say you’re too nice."

...

Qian Weihua had been away on assignment in a neighboring town due to a high-profile murder case. He still had a follow-up interview to finish, and the editor-in-chief had been pressing him, but he was stretched too thin. The task was eventually handed over to Wen Yifan.

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

The female victim had been walking home from work when a man threatened her with a knife and dragged her into a secluded alley in the North District. A passing male street vendor intervened and rescued her, allowing her to escape.

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

After organizing the interview outline, Wen Yifan checked the time and glanced around. "Where’s Da Zhuang?"

Su Tian replied, "I think someone called him out for a joint interview. Not sure, though."

"Alright." Wen Yifan didn’t dwell on it. "I’ll go by myself then."

When Wen Yifan first joined the Dispatch team, she was hired as a text reporter. But when the team was short-staffed, everyone had to pitch in wherever needed.

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

Filming, interviewing, writing, editing, and post-production—all fell on her shoulders.

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

She found the vendor’s ward and, after obtaining his consent, conducted an interview about his current condition.

The vendor was in his early thirties, with an honest and simple demeanor. He answered each of Wen Yifan’s questions earnestly, too shy to meet her gaze. If their eyes accidentally met, his face would flush red.

After covering all the questions on her outline, Wen Yifan added a few more of her own before politely excusing herself to let him rest. She thanked him, picked up her camera gear, and prepared to seek out his attending physician for more details.

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

"Hey—uh, Wen Yifan?"

Turning toward the voice, she saw a vaguely familiar-looking girl standing a few meters away, hesitantly watching her. The girl appeared young, holding a fruit basket as if visiting a patient.

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

"When did you come back to Nanwu?" the girl frowned. "Mom never mentioned it."

That statement instantly jogged Wen Yifan’s memory.

Zheng Kejia.

Her stepfather’s daughter.Come to think of it, the last time Wen Yifan saw her was probably back in her second year of high school.

At that time, Zheng Kejia was only in her first year of middle school, with no awareness of dressing up, her personality spoiled and willful. Quite different from how she looked now, all grown up and well-dressed.

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

Noticing the things 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 wrap things up. “I still have work to do. Let’s catch up another time.”

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

“Fine,” Wen Yifan nodded. “That saves us both some time.”

“...” Zheng Kejia was left speechless by her words, struggling for a while before finally spitting out, “Why are you back if you’ve got nothing to do?”

“Do I need a reason to come back?” Wen Yifan smiled. “Don’t worry, me returning to Nanwu doesn’t mean I’ll be staying at home. Let’s just pretend we never saw each other today. As long as you don’t say anything, no one else will know.”

Zheng Kejia frowned. “I never said you couldn’t stay at home.”

Wen Yifan: “Right, you didn’t.”

“Why do you have to be so infuriating?” Zheng Kejia was getting annoyed. “I’m trying to talk to you properly. I only said before that I didn’t want to live with you, but I’m not saying that now.”

Wen Yifan stood still, quietly watching her.

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

“It really was a long time ago. I almost didn’t recognize you. Seems like there’s no need for us to reminisce either.” Wen Yifan said, “You should go visit the patient. Carrying those fruits must be tiring.”

“Wait! Are you coming home for New Year’s?” Zheng Kejia asked. “Aren’t you going to see your 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 occasionally sent her photos of him.

“No.” Wen Yifan made up an excuse. “I’m very busy with work and barely have any days off.”

A brief silence.

Zheng Kejia fished out her phone from her pocket and asked, “Then can we add each other on WeChat? How about dinner tonight? I want to apologize—I was wrong back then—”

“Zheng Kejia,” Wen Yifan still had to go to the police station later and then return to the station to write and edit her report. She really didn’t have time for this. “I just want to live my own life.”

“...”

“I came back to Nanwu for no one else, and I’m not avoiding home because of you.” Wen Yifan said softly. “Everything I do is only for myself.”

“...”

Wen Yifan checked the time. “I really am in a hurry, so I’ll go ahead.”

Zheng Kejia parted her lips but said nothing.

Without waiting for another response, Wen Yifan glanced at the signboard and followed the direction to the neurology department.

Wen Yifan found the male vendor’s attending physician. Not wanting to take up too much of the doctor’s consultation time, she only asked a few questions about the vendor’s condition, thanked him, and left.

Before leaving the hospital, Wen Yifan stopped by the restroom.

Bending over, she turned on the faucet. The icy water made her flinch involuntarily. For a moment, she froze—perhaps because of the unexpected encounter with Zheng Kejia.

It reminded her of many things from the past.

Wen Yifan recalled the words her father, Wen Liangzhe, had once said to her."First Frost is a girl, she shouldn't always be touching cold water."

All these years, it seemed only thoughts of Wen Liangzhe could still affect Wen Yifan's emotions. Her nose stung as she blinked hard, coming back to herself before slowly washing her hands clean.

The nickname Wen Yifan had in high school wasn't something her classmates made up randomly—it had its basis in reality.

Back then, she truly couldn't do anything. All the cleaning tasks in dorm life had to be taught to her by her roommates. She had an extremely good temper—even when others lost patience and snapped at her, she never held grudges.

Wen Yifan had been pampered since childhood, the only daughter and treasured pearl of Wen Liangzhe and Zhao Yuandong. They supported anything she wanted to do, having no grand expectations for her beyond hoping she could live a happy, safe life.

During that time, Wen Yifan lived with extraordinary carefree joy.

Even without many friends in class, she was still happy.

Because the love she received was already more than enough.

But Wen Yifan never imagined she would one day face such circumstances.

Because of Wen Liangzhe's death, because of Zhao Yuandong's remarriage, because of Zheng Kejia who was terrified Wen Yifan would steal her father's affection—Zhao Yuandong sent her to live with her grandmother.

Later, because her grandmother's health declined, she was sent to her uncle's household.

That was probably the most emotionally fragile period of Wen Yifan's life.

—She felt unwanted.

Even with a place to stay, she still felt there wasn't a single spot in this world that could truly be her home.

She felt utterly without belonging.

Wen Yifan became terrified of making mistakes, living in constant apprehension. Even the clink of chopsticks against bowls during meals would make her unconsciously hold her breath.

Wen Yifan suddenly recalled an incident from the past.

One weekend.

Her aunt gave Wen Yifan twenty yuan to go buy some shredded chicken.

Obediently taking the money, Wen Yifan headed out.

After purchasing the chicken from the shop her aunt specified, Wen Yifan went to pay—only to find the money was gone.

Her mind went completely blank. Staring at the shop owner's expression, she could only mumble that she'd come back for it later. Then she retraced her steps, meticulously scanning every inch of the ground.

She repeated this back and forth several times.

But Wen Yifan never caught sight of that twenty-yuan bill again.

To this day, she remembers exactly how she felt then.

Utterly panicked, yet lost and helpless.

Though looking back now, it seems like such a laughably small thing.

Just twenty yuan.

She'd only lost twenty yuan.

Just because of something so trivial.

Wen Yifan didn't return all afternoon, wandering aimlessly until night fell. She stopped at a deserted bus stop, sitting on a bench to stare at the gray concrete.

Feeling like everything had slowed down.

She didn't dare go back.

Afraid this incident would make her uncle send her to the next relative's home. And then this cycle would continue endlessly.

She'd become a burden everyone was trying to pass off.

Then.

At that moment, Sang Yan seemed to descend from the heavens, suddenly appearing before her. He seemed to have just returned from playing basketball somewhere, clutching a ball with his upper body drenched in sweat, droplets still clinging to his hair.Sang Yan walked up to her and bent down, carrying the distinct aura of a young man. By then, he had learned her nickname and, as if deliberately, never called her by her given name again: "Wen Shuangjiang, what are you doing here?"

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

Sang Yan raised an eyebrow. "Why that expression?"

Still, she remained quiet.

Sang Yan nudged her with the basketball. "Say something, will you?"

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

"..."

"I came out to buy something, but I lost the money."

Sang Yan froze for a moment before rummaging through his pockets. "I didn’t bring any money with me."

Wen Yifan immediately lowered her gaze. "Then never mind..."

"What do you mean, never mind? Just because I don’t have money now doesn’t mean I won’t in five minutes." Sang Yan straightened up. "Just sit here. Five minutes is all I need."

"..."

After a pause, Sang Yan shoved the basketball into her hands.

"Wait for me."

Before Wen Yifan could reply, Sang Yan had already dashed off, his destination unknown. She lowered her head again, staring at the grimy basketball in her hands, tracing its grooves.

The evening breeze blew quietly.

One car passed by, then another.

Wen Yifan wasn’t sure if five minutes had truly passed.

All she remembered was that Sang Yan returned quickly. Still panting, he crouched in front of her and pulled out twenty yuan from his pocket—who knew where he’d gotten it. "Here. Remember to pay me back."

Wen Yifan’s hand was 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 grinned. "No need to be so moved, right?"

Wen Yifan pressed her lips together and repeated, "Thank you."

"Alright, it’s no big deal," Sang Yan said, scratching his head when he noticed her mood still hadn’t lifted, though he didn’t know how to comfort her. "It’s just twenty yuan."

"..."

"Next time you lose money, just give me a call." The young man’s eyes sparkled with confidence as he smirked. "No matter how much, I’ll lend it to you. Deal?"