First Frost

Their eyes met.

At that moment, the TV background music seemed to understand human speech, perfectly fading into silence. The surroundings became so quiet that even the sound of a pin dropping could be heard, plunging them into an extremely awkward situation.

Wen Yifan calmly averted her gaze.

Yet inside, her emotions were churning like turbulent waves.

Hugged. Me.

Kissed. Me. Once.

Hug.

Kiss.

"..."

Those two words alone were enough to make Wen Yifan feel like she was about to explode.

She could clearly feel her cheeks burning, completely beyond her control. She tried to calm herself, to steady her mind and rationally analyze the possibility of such an event.

Then quickly give him an appropriate response.

But Sang Yan didn't give her that time. His gaze still fixed on her, he said nonchalantly, "What, are you blushing now?"

Wen Yifan replied calmly, "Oh, am I?"

Like he'd discovered new land, Sang Yan studied her. "Yeah."

"Maybe the food I ate tonight was too spicy," Wen Yifan fabricated without batting an eye, speaking unhurriedly. "My friend just mentioned my face looked red too."

Sang Yan smirked, clearly unconvinced. "Is that so."

Wen Yifan didn't care whether he believed her—getting through this moment was enough. Once the initial shock passed, upon further reflection, she found Sang Yan's claim rather dubious.

If he'd only mentioned a hug, she might have believed it.

After all, that wasn't particularly difficult behavior.

But adding a kiss...

Wen Yifan felt it was more plausible that she'd sleepwalked and beaten him up than what he was claiming.

"About this matter," Wen Yifan said softly, carefully choosing her words, "might you have exaggerated slightly? Maybe I just accidentally bumped into you while sleepwalking, leading to some physical contact."

"Oh. So you're saying," Sang Yan drawled, cutting straight to the point, "that I'm deliberately framing you."

"...That's not what I meant," Wen Yifan quickly clarified.

"I'm not accusing you either." With stray locks of hair falling over his forehead, Sang Yan looked relaxed. "But since I'm the one who got taken advantage of here, you can't just turn around and bite me, can you?"

Having no memory of the event, Wen Yifan felt intensely like the mute who ate bitter herbs—unable to voice her suffering. Finding his words utterly unreasonable, she couldn't help saying, "If something like this happened, why didn't you mention it before?"

"I did," Sang Yan said. "But you said it was a special circumstance."

"..."

"I'm not that petty of a person, you know."

This made Wen Yifan pause slightly, recalling the inexplicable thumbs-up emoji she'd received from Sang Yan the morning after returning from Zhao Yuandong's place.

Wen Yifan fell silent, beginning to doubt herself.

Sang Yan added provocatively, "But really, what does this count as?"

Wen Yifan looked up.

"Daytime thoughts, nighttime—" Sang Yan dragged out his words before finishing, "sleepwalking?"

"..."

Wen Yifan restrained herself. "Can I ask you a question?"

Sang Yan: "Go ahead."

She'd wanted to ask this question when he first brought up the situation, but found it too awkward—likely pushing their current predicament into even more uncomfortable territory.

So Wen Yifan had resisted asking until now.But now, his attitude pushed her to the point where she couldn't hold back anymore: "Where exactly did I kiss you..."

"..." Sang Yan's expression froze for a moment.

An ambiguous atmosphere seemed to seep into the air with these words, unraveling and fermenting, spreading gradually.

Once the words were out, Wen Yifan also felt a twinge of regret. But spoken words were like spilled water—impossible to take back. Her mind was stretched taut like a thread, yet her gaze remained calm as she looked at him, pretending to patiently wait for his response.

Sang Yan lifted his eyes and casually pointed to the right corner of his lips.

"What?"

"The spot you're pointing at—given our height difference, I probably couldn't..." Wen Yifan paused for two seconds, unable to say the word, and changed her phrasing, "...reach it."

Sang Yan stared straight at her for a while before generously saying, "Fine, it's okay if you don't admit it."

"..."

Wen Yifan suddenly stood up. "Actually."

Sang Yan looked up.

The next moment, Wen Yifan blurted out, "Should we reenact the scene?"

"..."

Sang Yan chuckled. "You want to take advantage of me a second time?"

"I won't touch you," Wen Yifan said patiently. "I just think the possibility of what you're saying is pretty low. I want to verify it so that when you stay here in the future, you can still feel like your personal safety is guaranteed."

"..."

Wen Yifan looked at him. "Could you stand up for a moment?"

Sang Yan leaned back against the sofa, tilting his head slightly as he studied her for a long moment. Without another word, he set his phone aside and stood up, as if reluctantly compromising.

In an instant, their positions reversed.

Sang Yan was nearly a head taller than her, her head just reaching the level of his jaw. Following his movement, Wen Yifan's gaze traveled upward, watching as he went from looking down to tilting his head back.

From this angle, it was clear she couldn't reach the spot he had indicated.

"See?" Wen Yifan stared at the corner of his lips and immediately relaxed. "I couldn't possibly reach it. So maybe there's some misunderstanding... Unless I stood on my tiptoes, or you lowered your head—"

As she spoke, Wen Yifan lifted her eyes and met his gaze.

Her expression faltered slightly as she realized, belatedly, that the distance between them had unknowingly closed.

—The moment froze.

As if, in the next second, the man before her would lower his head just as she had described.

Wen Yifan averted her gaze, her heartbeat inexplicably speeding up. She pressed her lips together and took a step back, no longer dwelling on it. "But that's just my speculation."

Sang Yan's eyes were dark, like the endless night outside.

"You really have no reason to lie to me. Even if this was something beyond my control, I still owe you an apology." Wen Yifan thought for a moment before adding seriously, "If something like this happens again in the future, just punch me."

"..."

After a long pause, Wen Yifan reminded him, "Protect yourself."

...

After tossing out that string of words, Wen Yifan retreated to her room. She closed the door and leaned against it, standing there as she tried to sort through the nonsense she had just spouted.

Once she had mentally straightened everything out and confirmed there were no issues, she finally snapped out of it and walked further inside.

She lay down on the bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking about the spot Sang Yan had pointed to.

It seemed to be where his dimple was.

"..."

Sigh.

Could it really be true?But during her four years of college, despite sleepwalking so many times, she had never heard any roommate mention that she would actively hug or kiss people in her sleep...

Yet in the past.

She really had.

Liked very much.

That dimple of Sang Yan's.

Wen Yifan wasn't so sure now.

Her mind felt like a sticky mess, tangled into knots, unable to think clearly. After a long while, Wen Yifan suddenly sat up, moved the chair from her dressing table, and placed it against the bedroom door.

For the next few days, the first thing Wen Yifan did upon waking was check if the chair was still in place. After this tense period passed and she confirmed nothing unusual had happened, she finally relaxed.

Though she couldn't verify whether Sang Yan's words were true, Wen Yifan couldn't shake the feeling of having done something wrong. Whenever she saw him, an inexplicable sense of guilt and awkwardness lingered in her heart.

This made Wen Yifan feel that compared to before, their interactions now carried a strange tension.

But Sang Yan seemed completely unfazed, acting as if nothing had happened, showing no signs of abnormality. Because of this, Wen Yifan couldn't afford to appear too concerned.

She could only hope she wouldn't sleepwalk again or repeat the same—or even more exaggerated—behavior.

Time flew by, and soon March was over.

Wen Yifan had arranged time off with her supervisor in advance. On Qingming Festival, she couldn't sleep no matter how hard she tried, so she watched several horror movies back-to-back all night. It wasn't until dawn that she finally drifted off.

But she woke naturally less than two hours later.

Wen Yifan got up, washed up, pulled out a black hoodie from her closet, and left her room. She had woken much earlier than usual, and Sang Yan was probably still asleep. The living room was empty.

Outside, it was overcast, making the apartment dim.

With little appetite, Wen Yifan grabbed a carton of milk from the fridge and quickly left.

After checking the route, she boarded a nearby bus heading to the cemetery in the southern suburbs of Nanwu.

In the past, Wen Yifan had always come with Zhao Yuandong, or sometimes her uncle and grandmother. They had driven her directly, so this was her first time making the trip alone.

The location was quite far from the city center—the round trip by bus took four to five hours.

After getting off, she still had to walk about a kilometer. The surrounding area was under construction, leaving the road full of potholes. There were no designated parking spots, so cars were haphazardly parked everywhere.

Wen Yifan followed the directions on her phone's map.

Upon arriving at the cemetery,

she completed a brief registration before entering the columbarium and walking further inside.

The corridor seemed endless, lined on both sides with tall, long rows of cabinets holding the souls of countless departed. Wen Yifan walked silently until she stopped at one particular row.

She stepped in, carefully scanning for the name Wen Liangzhe.

She couldn't remember how long it had been since her last visit.

Wen Yifan stared at the name for a long while before softly calling out, "Dad."

"..."

"First Frost is back."

It was a call that would never receive a response.

Back then, Wen Yifan had found it impossible to believe.

How could someone so full of life suddenly become a cold corpse? That tall, strong father of hers—as if under some spell—had been shrunken down and placed inside this tiny box.

Never to speak again.She always felt like it was a dream.

That she’d wake up and everything would be fine.

But the nightmare continued relentlessly, and no matter how hard she struggled, she couldn’t wake up.

Wen Yifan stood in place, silent for a long while, saying nothing. At one point, her eyelids twitched as she suddenly noticed the dust on the memorial tablet, forming a stark contrast with the one next to it.

It seemed no one had visited in a long time.

Zhao Yuandong had a new family now, and over time, she might only come once every few years. Grandma and Uncle’s family lived in Beiyu, so they probably wouldn’t make a special trip for this either.

Wen Liangzhe’s smile was carved onto the tablet, forever frozen in that moment.

No more emotions would ever appear.

Wen Yifan’s eyes gradually reddened. She blinked hard, then reached out to wipe away the dust bit by bit—

She arrived home a little earlier than usual after work.

Wen Yifan instinctively glanced around the living room and the spare bedroom—Sang Yan didn’t seem to be back yet. She withdrew her gaze and stepped into the kitchen. She hadn’t eaten anything all day, and now her stomach ached with hunger.

She started by cooking some porridge. After rummaging through the fridge, she took out some ingredients, planning to make a simple soup to go with it.

Turning on the faucet, she peeled and washed the sponge gourd. Lowering her eyes, she picked up the kitchen knife and swiftly chopped it into neat pieces. Then she grabbed a box of fish skin dumplings from the fridge, tearing off two rows and tossing them in.

Just as the soup was nearly done, Sang Yan happened to return. Slipping off his coat, he glanced toward the kitchen and remarked casually, “You skipped work today?”

“Nothing much to do, so I came back early,” Wen Yifan replied. “Have you eaten dinner?”

“Nope.”

“Then let’s eat together. I made plenty,” Wen Yifan turned off the stove and carried the soup out. “But it’s just porridge for dinner—not sure if it’ll fill you up. If not, you can cook something else?”

Sang Yan also entered the kitchen, rolling up his sleeves to bring out the porridge. “Can’t be bothered.”

Wen Yifan nodded.

The two ate dinner in silence.

As usual, Sang Yan finished first, but he didn’t get up to return to the living room, instead staying seated and scrolling through his phone. Wen Yifan slowly finished her porridge and stood. “So, you’ll clean up?”

Normally, it was Sang Yan who cooked dinner, often making extra for her to eat.

Though it sounded like he was the one asking for a favor, out of a sense of obligation—since she was eating his food—Wen Yifan always helped clean up afterward. It wasn’t much work anyway; with a dishwasher at home, all that was left was wiping the table.

Sang Yan was fair about it. “Sure.”

Wen Yifan returned to her room, washed up, and flopped onto the bed.

She had slept for less than two hours the night before, but for some reason, she wasn’t particularly tired. After tossing and turning for a while, she gave up and got up, opening her laptop to work on a news article.

It wasn’t until 2 a.m. that Wen Yifan finally yawned, rubbing her bleary eyes.

Just as she was about to go back to bed, she remembered something and turned to drag her chair to the doorway.

Blocking her only exit.

…

At 3 a.m.

Sang Yan finished his last round of gaming and went to the kitchen to grab a bottle of cold water. Unscrewing the cap, he took several gulps before heading back to his room—when suddenly, he heard movement outside.

His lashes flickered, and he stepped forward.Just then, he happened to see Wen Yifan emerge from the hallway, her steps not pausing for a moment as if she hadn't noticed his presence. Her movements were sluggish, her expression unusually vacant, looking as though she was about to bump into the nearby bookshelf.

Sang Yan's brow twitched as he quickly stepped in front of her, raising a hand to block her path.

At the same time, Wen Yifan's forehead bumped against his palm.

Both froze in place.

After a few seconds, Wen Yifan changed direction and walked toward the sofa.

Sang Yan withdrew his hand and continued drinking his water, all the while keeping an eye on her actions.

Just like last time.

Wen Yifan sat down on the sofa, her gaze empty as she stared blankly into space.

Sang Yan approached her but didn't return to his usual seat. Instead, he casually dragged over a nearby stool and sat down in front of her.

The living room lights remained off, as Sang Yan didn't bother to turn them on. The moonlight streaming in from outside, combined with the unusually bright hallway light, kept the room from being too dim.

The atmosphere was excessively quiet.

Only the occasional sound of Sang Yan drinking water broke the silence.

After an indeterminate amount of time, Wen Yifan lowered her eyes, as if finally noticing Sang Yan beside her. She seemed devoid of any cognitive function, freezing stiffly in place.

In this lighting and at this hour, it was somewhat eerie.

But Sang Yan found it amusing. "Finally noticed me?"

Wen Yifan didn't respond, her pupils shifting slightly before settling on the right corner of his lips.

Sang Yan teased, "What are you looking at?"

Noticing her gaze remained fixed, Sang Yan suddenly remembered he had a somewhat effeminate dimple in that exact spot and was about to suppress his smile. But at that moment, the previously motionless Wen Yifan suddenly leaned forward.

Toward him.

Her movements were still slow, but now seemed purposeful.

Her eyes remained locked on the right corner of his lips.

The distance between them gradually closed.

As if anticipating what might happen, Sang Yan stared straight at her, his Adam's apple bobbing slowly. He didn't make any active moves, but neither did he retreat, remaining perfectly still.

Like a predator lurking in the shadows.

Yet with infinite patience, waiting for her to take the initiative, inch by inch, delivering herself to him.

Wen Yifan raised her hand, lightly resting it on his shoulder.

In that moment, time seemed to slow down.

A second felt longer than a year.

Sang Yan looked down.

At those eyes and brows that had haunted his dreams. Her thick lashes like brushes, tickling his heart. Her face free of makeup, her skin so pale it was almost translucent.

Like a scene out of focus.

The next instant, just as he'd imagined.

Sang Yan felt it clearly—something soft touched the right corner of his lips.