His profile was sharp and well-defined, his eyelashes slightly lowered, looking in good spirits.
For some inexplicable reason, even though this was just a photo, Wen Yifan still felt her face grow warm. It was as if she had been transported back to the moment the photo was taken, that instant when Sang Yan had been staring at her.
Wen Yifan touched the back of her ear, feeling somewhat awkward as she turned off the screen.
Sang Yan's actions had been blatant, without any attempt at concealment. Even through the photo, one could feel his overwhelmingly strong presence.
Looking at it now, Wen Yifan couldn’t understand how she had completely missed his gaze at the time.
Soon, she remembered how she had asked Sang Yan for photos earlier, only for him to flatly refuse with a "No."
She curved her lips into a smile.
A few seconds later.
Wen Yifan turned the screen back on, slowly saving all five photos. She opened her album, selected one of them, and carefully cropped it until only the two of them remained in the frame.
……
Qian Weihua drove straight to the collapsed tunnel site.
The entire area was a construction zone, with a mountainside nearby. The tunnel hadn’t been fully completed yet. Although their team had rushed over from Nanwu as soon as they got the news, many reporters from various media outlets had already arrived by then.
All had come from different directions.
Fearing further collapses and secondary damage, the site had been cordoned off with caution tape to maintain a safe distance. The railway bureau, in collaboration with the construction unit, had formed a rescue team, deploying many personnel from Nanwu.
Eight workers were trapped inside the collapsed tunnel, and their current condition remained unknown.
After reviewing the blueprints and assessing the situation, the rescue team held meetings and devised several rescue plans. They attempted to open a few ventilation shafts first to establish contact with the trapped workers.
Later, they managed to create a passage to transport food supplies.
During this time, Qian Weihua had communicated with the rescue team multiple times, only to be repeatedly turned down. It wasn’t until the situation stabilized slightly that the team reluctantly agreed to let someone escort them inside to film a general overview.
Only Qian Weihua and Wen Yifan went in; Mu Chengyun was left outside.
The tunnel was long and deep, its endless path now blocked by collapsed rubble and sand, turning it into a confined and eerie space. The lighting inside was dim, the ground muddy and strewn with gravel, piled into small slopes—messy and chaotic.
Hundreds of rescue workers in uniform bustled back and forth. Some carried pipes, others held various tools, all absorbed in their tasks with no time to spare.
Wen Yifan had covered many collapse incidents before, but this was the first time she had encountered one so severe.
Just looking at it was enough to send chills down her spine.
For safety reasons, the rescue team didn’t allow the reporters to stay inside for long.
They only went in to record a brief video before coming back out. Once in the car, Qian Weihua sent the footage to the station, while Wen Yifan focused intently on her laptop, drafting the report.
Mu Chengyun suddenly spoke up: "Yifan-jie, what happened behind your ear?"
Wen Yifan was puzzled: "Hmm?"
Qian Weihua, sitting beside her, immediately noticed as well and frowned: "Why is it bleeding? When did that happen?"
Hearing this, Wen Yifan flipped down the vanity mirror to take a look. She noticed a small cut behind her ear, which was now bleeding—a sight that was somewhat alarming.Wen Yifan lowered her head, rummaging through her bag for a tissue as she calmly said, "Probably got scratched by some rubble when I went in."
Mu Chengyun murmured, "Doesn't it hurt?"
Wen Yifan smiled. "It's alright. Now that you mention it, it does sting a bit."
Accidents were common in this line of work. After Sang Yan had gotten injured protecting her last time, Wen Yifan had since made sure to keep iodine and band-aids in her bag for emergency wound care.
She pressed the tissue against the cut to stop the bleeding, gave it a quick clean, and then covered it with a large band-aid.
The entire rescue operation lasted four days and three nights.
All eight trapped workers were rescued, but one had suffered a severe head injury from falling rocks. Despite the rescue team's constant encouragement and reassurance, the condition of this injured worker had left the other seven in poor spirits.
They were rushed to the hospital immediately after being rescued.
Fearing they might miss any developments, Wen Yifan and her team had barely left the scene during this period. They took turns resting in the car or briefly returning to the hotel to freshen up before hurrying back.
After returning from the hospital and sending the footage and news report back to the station, Qian Weihua told them to get some rest at the hotel.
After all, there was still a lot of ground to cover—interviewing experts, the injured, and other relevant parties.
It was going to be a long haul.
Mu Chengyun had booked the hotel, located near the accident site in a somewhat remote area with less-than-ideal conditions. Only two rooms were reserved for five days, with plans to relocate later for follow-up interviews.
Wen Yifan, being the only woman, got a room to herself, while the other two men shared one.
It took her nearly half an hour to finish showering.
Afterward, she applied some ointment to her wound and lay down on the bed.
Having barely touched a bed in days, Wen Yifan still felt a sense of unreality. Her eyelids ached with exhaustion, but she still checked her phone for unread messages.
With so little time lately, she had only been replying sporadically—and tersely at that, usually just a few words in response to whatever was asked.
She opened her chat window with Sang Yan.
Normally, her messages dominated the conversation, but now it was Sang Yan’s turn. The countdown he had previously adhered to had gradually shifted from voice messages to simple numbers over time.
He seemed particularly impatient.
But ever since Wen Yifan had gone on this business trip to Beiyu, the numbers had reverted to voice messages. And after noticing how slow and perfunctory her replies had become, he’d started adding, "Acknowledge receipt," after each countdown ended.
Today’s voice message had an extra line at the end.
"Make it up to me with an apple when you’re back."
Wen Yifan checked the date and realized it was already Christmas Eve. Sang Yan’s birthday was now just single-digit days away. She sighed, knowing she probably wouldn’t make it back in time.
If not for this business trip, Wen Yifan would have had New Year’s Day off this year. And since Nanwu wasn’t hosting a firework show this year, she likely wouldn’t have had to work overtime either.
In that case.
She might have been able to ring in the new year with Sang Yan.
Wen Yifan sighed and replied:
[Back at the hotel, about to sleep.]
[Merry Christmas Eve.]
After a moment’s thought, she added a little apple emoji and continued:
[For now, you’ll have to settle for looking at it. I’ll make it up to you with the real thing when I’m back.]Wen Yifan was so drowsy she could barely keep her eyes open. After replying, she turned off her screen. But Sang Yan responded almost instantly, and her phone vibrated again. Blinking groggily, she opened it.
Four voice messages played one after another.
Sang Yan: "Alright."
Sang Yan: "Go to sleep. Remember to lock the door."
Sang Yan: "Don’t sleepwalk and wander around."
The last one.
"If you really must sleepwalk, just pace around your own room." His tone was arrogant and drawn-out, still as haughty and infuriating as ever. "The only victim allowed is me, got it?"
Over the next few days, Wen Yifan continued her usual routine of running around the small city. The follow-up interviews went smoother than she’d expected. Aside from a few uncooperative interviewees, there were no major issues.
Sang Yan also seemed busy, pulling insane overtime shifts as the year drew to a close.
Sometimes when Wen Yifan replied to his messages at three or four in the morning, he was still at the office.
Before she knew it, Wen Yifan welcomed the new year in this city.
Despite the relentless overtime, she still couldn’t make it back before Sang Yan’s birthday. Originally, she’d planned to return on the 2nd, but she had one last interview that afternoon.
Exhausted from the lack of rest, Qian Weihua decided against driving back that night, worried about the risks of fatigue driving during the holiday rush. To make matters worse, all the high-speed train tickets had long been sold out.
Wen Yifan was out of options.
Early that morning.
Right on time, Wen Yifan sent Sang Yan a message: [Happy birthday ^_^]
Wen Yifan: [I ordered a cake for you—it should arrive at home around noon.]
Wen Yifan: [As for your gift, I’ll give it to you when I get back.]
Sang Yan: [Quite the effort.]
Sang Yan: [Worth the seventy days I’ve been counting down.]
Wen Yifan blinked: [But I probably won’t make it back today. I’ll return tomorrow.]
Sang Yan: [Oh.]
A moment later.
Sang Yan sent a voice message, his tone lazy, as if he was half-asleep.
"Then let’s just pretend my birthday is tomorrow."
After a pause.
Another message.
"One day left."
...
The next afternoon, Wen Yifan and Mu Chengyun went to the hospital. Qian Weihua headed to the accident scene alone for the final report. The three of them split into two groups to divide the work.
Wen Yifan interviewed a severely injured survivor.
He had just regained consciousness the day before. After coordinating with his family, they scheduled the interview for that afternoon. Once it was done, all that remained was writing the article—the last task of this business trip.
As they left the ward, Mu Chengyun checked the time. "Yifan-jie, should we head back to the hotel now?"
Wen Yifan nodded and was about to speak when a man’s voice suddenly rang out nearby—hoarse and grating. Her expression faltered slightly as she glanced over. A man sat in the front row of chairs by the adjacent department.
He looked to be in his thirties or forties, his skin dark, dressed in shabby clothes that made him appear unkempt. Deep forehead wrinkles creased his face when he smiled, giving off a particularly sleazy vibe.
At the moment, the man was loudly talking on the phone, his voice dripping with sycophancy. He didn’t even glance their way.
Wen Yifan averted her gaze, her expression unreadable. "Yeah, let’s go back and write the article."Back at the hotel, Wen Yifan turned on her computer and quickly finished her draft before sending it to the editor. After the review was done, she glanced at the time—it was just past four in the afternoon. She zoned out for a moment, feeling the room was a bit stuffy.
Not wanting to stay inside, she thought since she had come all the way to this city, she might as well go out for a walk.
Grabbing her key card, she left the room.
In the short time she had been inside, the sky outside had darkened, thick clusters of gloomy clouds pressing together. They cast a cold, muted filter over the city, making everything feel unusually oppressive.
To Wen Yifan, this city was entirely unfamiliar.
She had only lived here for two years, and most of that time had been spent either at school or her aunt’s house, with no other leisure activities. She had no idea what entertainment the city had to offer, only knowing a handful of fixed locations.
The hotel she was staying at now was in the city center of Beiyu, very close to her high school.
Wandering aimlessly, she somehow ended up in front of a familiar noodle shop. Her steps halted as she stared at the storefront, which looked almost unchanged from years ago, leaving her momentarily dazed.
By the time she snapped out of it, she was already inside.
The interior was blindingly bright, the decor largely the same, though some things had been replaced. The tables and chairs were still arranged in the same layout—two neat rows side by side.
Even the owner behind the counter was the same person as before.
But he had visibly aged, his posture slightly hunched, his hair now streaked with white.
Wen Yifan felt as if she had stepped into another world.
She paused for a few seconds before walking over and taking the same seat she always used to sit in with Sang Yan. Lowering her gaze, she quietly studied the menu taped to the table.
Before long, the owner noticed her presence and asked, "What would you like to order?"
Wen Yifan looked up. "A bowl of wonton noodles."
The moment she spoke, the owner recognized her. His expression turned surprised as he stood up and walked closer, his smile warm and kind. "Little classmate, it's you? You haven’t been here in so long."
Wen Yifan nodded. "Yeah, I left the city after the college entrance exams."
"I see." Watching her come in alone, the owner’s lips moved as if he wanted to ask something, but in the end, he didn’t. "Wait here, I’ll make it for you right away."
"Okay," Wen Yifan said. "No rush."
The owner disappeared into the kitchen.
Now alone in the shop, Wen Yifan checked her phone but saw no new messages on WeChat.
At that moment, a sudden downpour erupted outside. The overburdened clouds finally gave way, heavy raindrops crashing onto the pavement with a deafening roar.
The world outside blurred into obscurity.
Damp, chilly air seeped into the shop, sharpening her senses yet also pulling her into a daze.
In this familiar setting, Wen Yifan felt as if she had slipped back into the past. Her gaze drifted to the empty seat across from her, and for a fleeting moment, she could almost see the younger version of Sang Yan sitting there in silence—the same proud, unruly boy who had never seemed like the type to bow his head.
Yet, during their last meeting, he had asked her softly, "I’m not that bad, am I?"
Even reducing his own actions to the most humiliating word—"pestering."All these years, Wen Yifan seemed to have never fought for anything for herself. She always retreated into her protective shell, living a life of routine, avoiding conflicts and never harboring deep emotions for anyone.
Not even for Sang Yan.
She seemed to place herself in a safe position.
Striving not to cross boundaries, striving to ensure she could retreat unscathed.
Only daring to slowly cast her hook toward him.
Waiting for him to bite the bait and deliver himself to her doorstep.
But at this moment, Wen Yifan suddenly didn’t want to leave the initiative in Sang Yan’s hands at all. She didn’t want Sang Yan, from the past until now, to always be the one who gave.
She didn’t want Sang Yan, after saying such words, to still have to lower his head again because of her.
Just then, the noodles arrived.
The owner flashed a familiar smile. "Eat up, you’re making this old man a little embarrassed. My skills haven’t changed at all over the years, yet you still came back to support me."
Wen Yifan murmured an acknowledgment.
The owner continued chattering as he returned to the counter. "Why did it suddenly start raining so hard? It’s freezing..."
Wen Yifan lowered her gaze, staring at the steaming bowl of noodles before her. The rising mist blurred her vision, inexplicably making her eyes sting. She blinked hard, mustered her courage, and picked up her phone to call Sang Yan.
Listening to the dial tone, her mind went blank.
She had no idea what she should say next.
After three rings.
He answered.
He seemed to have been asleep; his voice was hoarse, laced with the impatience of someone woken up. "Speak."
Wen Yifan called his name softly. "Sang Yan."
He fell silent for a few seconds, as if waking up a little more. "What’s wrong?"
Even though the answer seemed obvious, she was still afraid, still worried about the unknown.
She had so many concerns.
Afraid it was all just her delusion;
Afraid that what he liked was only the version of her from high school;
Afraid that after getting together, he might suddenly realize she wasn’t as good as he imagined.
But at this moment.
Wen Yifan wanted to lay her cards on the table.
To tell him clearly.
To let him know that he wasn’t always the one giving unilaterally.
That boy who had crossed cities alone, riding an hour-long high-speed train just to see her once—his actions weren’t the "pestering" he imagined.
She, too, had treasured those moments like precious treasures.
She just never dared to look back, never dared to bring them up again.
In this instant, Wen Yifan could clearly hear the sound of her own heartbeat. "Does what you said before still stand?"
Sang Yan: "Hmm?"
"You said, if I pursued you," Wen Yifan paused, suppressing the tremor in her voice, and spoke each word deliberately, "you could consider it."
As soon as the words left her mouth, the other end fell silent. Everything froze.
Even the sound of breathing disappeared.
"I just wanted to... give you a heads-up about this situation." Wen Yifan was so nervous she could barely speak. She didn’t know how Sang Yan would respond, but she forced herself to finish. "So, you can think about it first."
Without waiting for his reply, she hurriedly hung up.
After a moment of silence.
Wen Yifan stared at her phone lying on the table, but it remained still.
As if that alone was his answer.Wen Yifan didn’t know how to describe her current state of mind.
A long time passed.
Lowering her eyes, Wen Yifan slowly ate her noodles. The taste truly hadn’t changed at all from before—the broth was bland, the noodles lacked any chewiness, and overall, it was just very ordinary.
She wasn’t particularly hungry, yet she still finished every last strand of noodles, bit by bit.
Outside, the sky gradually darkened.
The rain continued to pour heavily, showing no signs of stopping anytime soon.
Setting down her chopsticks, Wen Yifan gazed outside quietly.
Noticing her glance, the shop owner offered, "Young lady, why don’t I lend you an umbrella? This rain doesn’t look like it’ll let up soon. You can return it whenever you have time."
Wen Yifan shook her head with a smile. "I’d like to sit a little longer."
She probably wouldn’t come back here again.
So she wanted to take one last look at this place, hoping to remember it for as long as possible.
Hoping that even in old age, she’d still recall that there had once been such a precious place. That in those suffocating days, there had still been a spot where she could steal a moment of respite.
Time trickled by.
When she noticed the rain outside beginning to ease, Wen Yifan slowly snapped out of her thoughts. She didn’t linger any longer, gathering her things and preparing to bid farewell to the owner before leaving. But just then, there was movement at the door.
Wen Yifan instinctively looked over—and froze.
In her line of sight, there was only the sudden figure of Sang Yan. He wore a pure black windbreaker, the collar slightly covering his jaw. In his hand was a transparent umbrella, his shoulders slightly dampened by the rain.
After stepping inside, Sang Yan didn’t glance anywhere else.
His eyes met hers directly.
At this moment.
Everything seemed to slow down, as if stepping into an old film.
The cramped noodle shop, unchanged for years, appeared worn yet nostalgic. An old, nameless Hong Kong drama played in the background, the music blending with the sound of rain.
Behind the man, the heavy rain continued to fall, hazy and indistinct.
He had cut through it all to get here.
Looking like a weary traveler who had finally found his way home.
The owner spoke up then, "Handsome, what would you like to order?"
As if he still remembered the owner, Sang Yan lifted his gaze and smiled. Using the same address as before, he replied politely, "Next time, uncle. I’m here to pick someone up this time."
The owner looked up. "Oh, it’s you."
Sang Yan nodded.
"Earlier, when I saw this young lady come in alone, I thought the two of you had lost touch." The owner glanced between them. "—How wonderful."
As if reminiscing, the owner sighed.
"After all these years, you’re still together."
Hearing this, Wen Yifan’s fingers stiffened slightly.
But Sang Yan offered no explanation, simply nodding. "We’ll be going now. Next time we’re in Beiyu, we’ll come by again." He turned to Wen Yifan, extending his hand toward her. "Come here."
Wen Yifan stood and walked toward him. "How did you get here?"
Sang Yan looked down at her. "I was already on the high-speed rail when you called."
Wen Yifan let out a soft "Oh."
Sang Yan opened the umbrella casually. "Let’s go."
Wen Yifan stepped under the umbrella as well. Because of their earlier phone call, she felt a little awkward being with him now and tried to make conversation. "How did you know I was here?"
"When in Beiyu," Sang Yan said, "it’s a habit to come here.""......"
The two of them left the shop and walked forward along the street.
This city was underdeveloped and hadn't changed much over all these years. Further ahead was the alley they had walked through many times before. In the other direction was the bus stop where Sang Yan would wait for the bus every time he came and left.
They continued walking in silence.
After some time, Sang Yan suddenly stopped in his tracks.
Wen Yifan stopped as well.
The world around them was engulfed in the deafening sound of rain, pounding heavily against the umbrella, nearly drowning out all other noises. Raindrops fell into puddles on the ground, blooming into tiny flowers that lasted only for an instant.
This grand curtain of rain felt like a massive protective shield.
Secluding the two of them from the rest of the world.
Sang Yan lowered his gaze to her and suddenly called out, "Wen Shuangjiang."
Hearing this name, Wen Yifan's heart gave a violent jolt, and she looked up in surprise.
"I've always thought words like these are unbearably cheesy—even saying a single syllable feels embarrassing," Sang Yan murmured, his eyes deep and unreadable, darker than the endless night around them. "But in this lifetime, I should at least say it once."
Wen Yifan stared at him, speechless.
"Still haven’t noticed?" Sang Yan bent slightly, closing the distance between them, the youthful spirit in his eyes unchanged from years ago. "All these years, I’ve still—"
His words fell with the scattered raindrops, striking down with force.
As if they had also struck—
Right into her heart.
"—only liked you."
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