Wen Yifan still vaguely remembered.
At the time, after she had calmly stated her name, Sang Yan had merely drawn out an "Ah" in a lazy tone and said nothing more afterward.
Thinking back now, she could inexplicably imagine his thought process at that moment—probably starting with, "Let me hear just how manly your name is," then moving to, "Wen Yifan?" and finally settling on, "Oh, nothing special after all."
That arrogant, utterly disdainful demeanor was almost identical to how he was now.
But perhaps it was because he had grown older and no longer wore his emotions as openly as he had in his youth. Or maybe it was simply because so many years had passed, creating a distance between them. Compared to before, his aloofness now seemed to overshadow nearly all other emotions.
Just then, they arrived at the subway station.
While rummaging through her bag for her subway card, Wen Yifan took out her phone. Seeing Zhong Siqiao's WeChat message, she casually replied to a few. Then, she suddenly remembered that Sang Yan might actually be in her WeChat contacts.
A couple of years ago, when WeChat became more popular, Wen Yifan had registered an account. At the time, she had directly imported her phone contacts, and since she still had Sang Yan's number saved, she had sent him a friend request.
He had probably accepted it without much thought.
From the moment they added each other until now, they hadn’t exchanged a single word.
But Wen Yifan suspected that when he accepted the request, he likely hadn’t realized it was her.
Because by then, she had already switched to a Yian phone number.
Thinking of this, she opened her contacts, scrolled to the "S" section, and found Sang Yan. Clicking on his profile picture, she glanced at his empty Moments before quickly exiting.
Not a single post.
Had he blocked her? Or had he already deleted her long ago?
Or maybe the person she had added wasn’t even Sang Yan at all.
He might have changed his number ages ago.
Wen Yifan hesitated over the delete button for a few seconds but ultimately chose to exit.
Since she wasn’t entirely sure, and she didn’t have the habit of deleting people, she let it be.
Letting him silently remain in her contacts list didn’t seem like it would cause any harm.
Back at home.
Wen Yifan first called her landlord to discuss terminating the lease.
The landlord was very understanding. Having heard about her situation multiple times and sympathizing with a young woman living alone, he quickly agreed. He said that if she wanted to move out now, he would refund both the deposit and the prepaid rent.
Wen Yifan gratefully thanked him.
With that settled, she turned on her computer and began browsing rental websites.
After looking around, she couldn’t find anything suitable.
Finding a place in Nanwu was genuinely difficult.
A one-bedroom apartment in a first-tier city, fully furnished, close to Shang'an, with good security—based on what she’d seen so far, the cheapest rent would still be around three to four thousand a month.
Given her current financial situation, that was truly a stretch.
Wen Yifan felt a headache coming on.
She decided to message Zhong Siqiao:
[Qiaoqiao, I’m planning to move.]
[When you have time, could you ask your friends if they know of any suitable rentals?]
Almost immediately, Zhong Siqiao called.
Wen Yifan answered.
Zhong Siqiao got straight to the point, sounding puzzled: "What’s going on? Why the sudden move? Didn’t you pay three months’ rent upfront?""The neighbor's been harassing me," Wen Yifan summarized succinctly, calmly recounting the day's events. "I called the police early this morning and ended up at the station with him. Now he's detained for five days. I'm worried he might retaliate later, so it's better to move out sooner."
"..." Zhong Siqiao was stunned, taking a moment to process. "Are you okay? Why didn't you tell me about this?"
"It's nothing serious. Before this, he hadn't done anything too extreme—just knocking on the door. By the time we got to the station, it was already three or four in the morning, and with the police there, it was safe. No need for you to come all that way in the middle of the night."
"I'm so sorry," Zhong Siqiao said guiltily. "I thought this place was great—cheap and close to your workplace..."
"Why are you apologizing? Without your help finding a place, I might've ended up homeless," Wen Yifan chuckled. "Besides, I thought the place was great too. If not for this neighbor, I would've considered renting long-term."
"Sigh, so what are you going to do? Do you want to stay at my place for now?"
"No, your sister-in-law just had her second child, right?" Wen Yifan replied. "I don’t want to impose or make things awkward for them. It’s really fine—I’ll move as soon as I find a new place."
Zhong Siqiao’s household was crowded. Aside from her married older brother, she also had a younger sister in high school, all still living with their parents. After work, she often helped take care of her sister and nephew.
Knowing her family situation, Zhong Siqiao didn’t press further and sighed again.
"Then what about staying with your mom?"
"I haven’t told her I’m back in Nanwu."
"Huh? Why not?"
"Too busy. I’ll tell her later." Wen Yifan changed the subject, half-joking, "Looking back, I kind of regret acting on impulse. Today I saw how thick my neighbor’s legs were—looked like it’d take half an hour just to hack through them with a knife."
"..." Zhong Siqiao couldn’t help but retort, "That’s terrifying."
"Exactly why I’m scared," Wen Yifan said slowly. "If he holds a grudge and decides to retaliate, there’s even a possibility—"
"What?"
"That I wouldn’t stand a chance against him even with a chainsaw."
"..."
After hanging up, Wen Yifan opened another rental website and skimmed through listings. Finding nothing suitable after a while, she closed her laptop and went to shower.
Moving wasn’t something that could be rushed. Hastily picking a new place that turned out worse than the current one would be pointless—just a waste of time and effort.
Wen Yifan decided that if she hadn’t found a new place in five days, she’d figure something out then.
The next day was the last day of 2013.
The Nanwu city government, in collaboration with Nanwu Broadcasting, organized a New Year’s Eve firework show with two viewing areas: Huaizhu Bay Resort and Dongjiu Square. Tickets were free but required advance online registration and a lottery draw.
Only those who registered and won the lottery could attend.
Earlier, Zhong Siqiao had registered for the Huaizhu Bay viewing area and invited Wen Yifan along after winning the draw.
Wen Yifan didn’t let her spot go to waste.The event had been approved by the station two weeks prior, and as usual, Wen Yifan had to work overtime to cover the live broadcast on-site. However, unlike Zhong Siqiao, who was assigned to a different location, Wen Yifan was headed to Dongjiu Square.
She had requested a station vehicle for the coverage.
The team arrived early to prepare, with Qian Weihua, her mentor, driving. Besides the two of them, Fu Zhuang also tagged along, along with veteran reporter Zhen Yu, who served as the on-camera correspondent.
By the time they arrived, there was still a considerable wait before the firework show began.
The square had three entrances—A, B, and C—each leading to separate viewing areas with no interconnections. A sizable crowd had already gathered, with attendees presenting their tickets and IDs at the gates before filing in one after another.
They were just one of the teams assigned by the station, allocated to Area A.
Alongside them, reporters from other TV stations and newspapers had also arrived.
After finding a suitable filming spot, Qian Weihua began adjusting the equipment. This was a relatively large-scale event, with a diverse and bustling crowd—no assigned seating, people of all professions and age groups mingling together.
Perhaps intrigued by the camera, a circle of onlookers gradually formed around them, murmuring and pointing in their direction.
The square was enveloped by the sea and the night, with towering buildings in the distance casting multicolored beams of light. The sea breeze carried a biting chill, damp and humid, relentlessly assaulting their faces and seeping into their bones.
Wen Yifan hadn’t fully readjusted to Nanwu’s damp cold yet, and with her period starting that day, she was feeling particularly uncomfortable.
She rummaged through her bag for a mask and put it on.
After standing for a while longer, she checked the time and decided to use the break to visit the restroom. Qian Weihua and Zhen Yu were still communicating with the control room, so she didn’t disturb them, simply informing Fu Zhuang before leaving.
Following the signs, she walked about a hundred meters before finally spotting the public restrooms. Next to them stood a dilapidated pavilion, packed with people either resting or waiting.
The restroom wasn’t spacious, and the line for the women’s room stretched five meters outside the door.
In stark contrast, there wasn’t a single person waiting outside the men’s room.
Resigned, Wen Yifan joined the queue.
Bored, she pulled out her phone and idly scrolled through Weibo. Before long, she overheard a faint conversation nearby—one of the voices sounding oddly familiar.
She glanced in the direction of the sound.
In a small open area near the pavilion, the white light was glaringly bright.
Squinting slightly, her vision cleared just in time to spot Sang Yan—whom she’d just seen the day before—standing there once again.
For a moment, she wondered if she was hallucinating.
From this angle, she could only see his profile.
The man looked indifferent, leaning casually against the pavilion in an olive-green windbreaker that accentuated his broad shoulders and long legs. He was wiping his hands with a tissue, as if he’d just come out of the restroom.
Slightly hunched, he was speaking to a middle-aged woman seated on a bench nearby.
The woman glanced up at him. “Done?”
Sang Yan: “Yeah.”
The woman stood. “Then wait here for Zhizhi—she’s still in line. I’m going to find your dad first.”
“…” Sang Yan paused, slowly raising his eyes. “You need someone to wait for her just to use the restroom?”
“It’s crowded, isn’t it?” the woman said. “Besides, your dad and I are having some alone time. Why would you tag along?”
“Then why did you even call me here?” Sang Yan let out an exasperated laugh. “To babysit for you?”The woman patted his arm, seemingly somewhat relieved. "If you'd had this awareness earlier, your mother wouldn't have had to rack her brains making up excuses all the time."
Sang Yan: "..."
Before leaving, the woman added, "By the way, have a heart-to-heart with your sister while you're at it. She seems really stressed lately—she's lost a noticeable amount of weight recently."
Sang Yan's lips twitched in a half-smile. "Me? Have a heart-to-heart with her?"
The woman: "Yes, what's wrong with that?"
"Not only is there an age gap between us," Sang Yan pulled out his phone from his pocket, his tone casual, "—there's also a gender gap. So this task is better left to you."
Three seconds of silence.
The woman only said ten words: "So now I can't get you to do anything, is that it?"
"..."
Only after the woman left did Wen Yifan realize she'd been listening to their conversation the whole time. The line moved forward at that moment, and she refocused, taking a few steps ahead.
From this position, she could no longer see Sang Yan behind her.
About a minute later.
Zhong Siqiao sent her three messages.
Zhong Siqiao: [Image attached]
Zhong Siqiao: I'm shocked.
Zhong Siqiao: I'd sent him generic holiday greetings before out of politeness, and he never replied. I thought he didn't even use this WeChat account anymore.
Wen Yifan opened the image.
It was a screenshot of Zhong Siqiao's chat history with Sang Yan.
Sang Yan had sent a message.
It looked like a mass text—just four words: [Happy New Year.]
Seeing this, Wen Yifan instinctively exited the chat window and scanned her unread messages.
Sang Yan wasn't among them.
But the avatar in her contacts matched the one in the screenshot.
So she must have the right account.
Then why hadn't she received the mass message...
Could he really be that petty, deliberately not sending it to her?
Or maybe it wasn't a mass text?
But not long ago, he'd been getting lectured by his mother right in front of her—hardly the leisure time to send individual holiday messages to people.
After thinking for a while.
Wen Yifan concluded the most likely explanation was what she'd initially suspected.
He'd already deleted her.
This train of thought led her to consider the miscellaneous contacts in her own list. She decided to compose a mass message herself, using it to identify and remove those who'd already blocked her.
Within moments of sending it out, over a dozen replies came in.
Wen Yifan scrolled from bottom to top, opening each one and occasionally responding.
When she reached the very top message, she froze.
Because to her shock.
The respondent was the very person who'd inspired her impromptu mass messaging—the one she'd mistakenly assumed had deleted her long ago, who was still standing just meters away from her.
He'd sent just one symbol.
Sang Yan: [?]
"..."
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