Before Wen Yifan could react,
Sang Yan straightened up, unabashedly pulling his phone from his pocket and fiddling with it casually. Then, as if just realizing something, he spoke in a tone that was both cocky and shameless: "Oh, it was here all along."
"......"
He then added, as if being considerate: "No need to get it then."
Whether it was psychological or not, Wen Yifan felt her lips tingling slightly. The already cramped room seemed even more stifling, the air thickened with an ambiguous warmth that added to the restless tension.
Staring at the corner of his lips for a few seconds, Wen Yifan suddenly stood up.
"I'll go wash an apple."
Without waiting for Sang Yan's response, she grabbed two apples and headed straight for the bathroom. She closed the door behind her, as if to cover up her actions, and stared at her reflection in the mirror—her ears noticeably flushed. Her mind replayed the accidental touch from earlier.
She took a deep breath to steady herself and turned on the faucet.
Washing an apple didn’t take long.
Not wanting to make it too obvious, Wen Yifan didn’t linger. Once done, she stepped out of the bathroom.
By then, Sang Yan was standing by the table, unpacking the takeout bag for dinner. Wen Yifan sat beside him without saying a word.
Sang Yan glanced at her but didn’t bring up the earlier "gift exchange" either.
It seemed that once the moment passed, neither of them had the courage to mention it again.
And just like that, the matter was brushed aside.
Wen Yifan gradually relaxed. Taking a bite of the apple, she suddenly felt a pang of sympathy for him—having to spend his birthday cooped up in this shabby hotel with her, eating hastily packed takeout for dinner.
Even now, the memory of running into him at the noodle shop felt surreal. Back then, after waiting endlessly for his response, she had already prepared herself to discuss moving out once they returned to Nanwu.
Just as she was about to leave—
He had appeared out of nowhere at that very moment.
The owner’s remark—"After all these years, you two are still together?"—
He hadn’t responded.
And afterward, he never brought it up again.
He didn’t ask why she had gone there, didn’t press her about the past, didn’t demand an explanation.
As if he didn’t care—or perhaps, as if he no longer wanted to dwell on what had happened before.
Or maybe, from the moment they reunited,
He had already let go of the past, releasing all of it.
Choosing instead to focus solely on the present before him.
......
By the time Sang Yan finished dinner, Wen Yifan had also finished her apple. She wanted to strike up a conversation but didn’t know what to say, still feeling a little awkward.
As if she hadn’t quite adjusted to their new dynamic yet.
Noticing how late it was getting, and with the apple gone, Wen Yifan felt she had no reason to stay longer—yet she still wanted to linger a little more. She lowered her head, staying silent, idly scrolling through her phone.
Sang Yan tidied up the takeout containers and glanced at her. "Still hungry?"
Wen Yifan looked up. "Huh?"
Sang Yan picked up the other apple from the table, walked over, and placed it in her hand. As if seeing right through her, he raised a brow, the corner of his lips quirking up. "Eat slower this time."
Wen Yifan: "You’re not having any?"
"Nope."
"Oh." She checked the time again, calculating silently before murmuring, "Then... I’ll take half an hour?"
Sang Yan eyed her. "Can you make it even slower?"
Wen Yifan took a bite, mumbling through the mouthful, "...I can."The room fell into silence once more.
After tidying up, Sang Yan sat down beside Wen Yifan, idly scrolling through his phone as well. She instinctively glanced at him, meeting the slight upward curve of his lips.
Wen Yifan stared for a few seconds before quietly averting her gaze.
This was her first relationship.
She didn’t know if everyone felt this way.
Even if there was nothing to say, even if it was a bit awkward, she still wanted to stay by his side, still felt inexplicably happy from this slightly uneasy togetherness.
Wen Yifan took the initiative to ask, "When did you buy your train ticket?"
Sang Yan looked up. "Hmm?"
"I wanted to buy a ticket for today yesterday too, to go back and—" Wen Yifan paused briefly before continuing, "celebrate your birthday. But there were no tickets left."
Sang Yan set his phone down and said leisurely, "Last week."
Wen Yifan was stunned. "How did you know last week that I wouldn’t make it back today?"
"Didn’t know. Just bought it in advance," Sang Yan replied. "It’s refundable anyway."
Wen Yifan’s chewing slowed slightly. After a long moment, she swallowed and added, "Then I’ll do the same next time."
"..."
Sang Yan chuckled softly.
Wen Yifan continued eating her apple. But no matter how slowly she tried to eat, the apple didn’t last long. After taking the final bite, she hesitated and said, "Should I head back now?"
Sang Yan hummed in agreement.
Wen Yifan: "We have to leave at eight tomorrow morning, so you should get some rest early tonight."
Sang Yan: "Alright."
Tossing the apple core into the trash, Wen Yifan stood up and took a few steps toward the door before suddenly remembering something unfinished. She turned back abruptly. "Sang Yan."
Sang Yan, who had been following her, asked, "What is it?"
Meeting his eyes, Wen Yifan said earnestly, "Happy birthday."
Sang Yan smiled in acknowledgment.
"What’s your birthday wish?"
"Not telling."
Wen Yifan blurted out, "Why?"
"Because," Sang Yan raised his hand and lightly patted her head, his tone a mix of seriousness and nonchalance, "it’s already come true."
Back in her own room, Wen Yifan flopped onto the bed. She stared blankly into space, seemingly lost in thought, before suddenly grabbing a pillow and rolling over.
The emotions she had suppressed all night seemed to finally release completely in this private space.
Her eyes sparkling, Wen Yifan buried her face in the pillow, feeling utterly unable to contain her giddy happiness. Only after calming down did she fish her phone out of her pocket to check her unread messages.
At a glance, she saw a string of messages from Zhong Siqiao.
[[/image]]
[Holy shit, Sang Yan posted on his Moments.]
[Does he have a girlfriend?]
[Do you know who it is?!?!]
[Are you still sharing the apartment with him? What if his girlfriend gives you trouble later? Should you take this chance to ask him to move out?]
Wen Yifan paused, instinctively opening the attached image.
It was a screenshot of Sang Yan’s Moments post.
He had only shared a photo without any caption.
The picture showed the birthday cake Wen Yifan had ordered for him, with the words "Happy Birthday, Sang Yan" that she had specifically asked the staff to write.
Sang Yan’s photography skills weren’t great—the photo looked slightly blurry, as if taken hastily.Zhong Siqiao and Sang Yan shared quite a few mutual friends. The screenshot showed a flood of comments beneath the post, most wishing him a happy birthday, but many also mixed in jabs at Sang Yan’s behavior.
[?]
[Did your account get hacked?]
[Last time I mentioned my birthday to this jerk, he said, “What’s the big deal about grown men celebrating birthdays?” and called me dramatic!!!]
[Act normal, okay? No one cares!]
At the very bottom.
Sang Yan had replied uniformly to all of them.
[My apologies. My girlfriend made me post this.]
……
Wen Yifan exited the image. Even though she had never made such a request, seeing Sang Yan’s post instantly reignited the emotions she had just suppressed.
Blinking, Wen Yifan replied to Zhong Siqiao: [Probably not.]
Wen Yifan: [His girlfriend is me.]
After typing that out, Wen Yifan stared at it for a moment, her lips curving into a smile. She hit send, then opened her chat with Qian Weihua to mention bringing a friend along on their return trip tomorrow.
Qian Weihua, ever agreeable, responded immediately: [Sure.]
At the same time, Wen Yifan’s WeChat exploded.
It was all Zhong Siqiao bombarding her.
[?]
[??]
[??????]
Wen Yifan really hadn’t mentioned this to Zhong Siqiao at all. Feeling a bit embarrassed and guilty, she replied: [Yeah, that’s pretty much the situation.]
Wen Yifan: [It just happened recently.]
Zhong Siqiao: [Didn’t you tell me before that you two had zero chemistry?!]
Wen Yifan couldn’t recall saying anything like that: [Did I?]
Zhong Siqiao: [You absolutely did!]
Zhong Siqiao: [Maybe not in those exact words, but that was the gist of it!]
Wen Yifan: [Oh…]
Wen Yifan: [Then I guess]
Wen Yifan: [I just couldn’t resist.]
Zhong Siqiao: […]
Zhong Siqiao: [?]-
The next morning.
After packing her things, Wen Yifan went to Sang Yan’s room to find him. Seeing him still gave her an unreal feeling, and she said softly, “Let’s have breakfast downstairs, then we’ll drive back.”
Sang Yan responded with a drowsy “Mhm.”
Wen Yifan glanced at him again but didn’t say anything more, leading him to the door of Qian Weihua and Mu Chengyun’s room.
Soon, the other two emerged as well.
All four had met before—Qian Weihua had seen Sang Yan once when his house caught fire. So now, Qian Weihua wasn’t surprised to see him and simply greeted, “Here in Beiyu for work or fun?”
Sang Yan replied succinctly, “Looking for someone.”
Mu Chengyun’s gaze flickered between Sang Yan and Wen Yifan, but he said nothing.
The four headed downstairs.
Qian Weihua and Wen Yifan went to check out with the room keys.
Sang Yan and Mu Chengyun waited nearby.
After standing silently for half a minute, Mu Chengyun spoke up first, his smile sweet and boyish. “Senior Sang, even though I know you wanted to see Yifan-jie, following her on a business trip seems a bit inappropriate, don’t you think?”
Hearing this, Sang Yan turned to look at him, his expression indifferent.
“Yifan-jie has a good temper, so she probably won’t get mad at you,” Mu Chengyun continued. “But you should still consider her feelings more.”
As if finding his words reasonable, Sang Yan drawled, “Oh.”
Perhaps because Sang Yan had mocked him last time, Mu Chengyun now wanted to reclaim some dignity. After a pause, he sighed. “No wonder your approach didn’t work.”
……After checking out, Wen Yifan collected the deposit and walked with Qian Weihua toward Sang Yan's direction.
The two men stood about five or six meters away, engaged in conversation. Sang Yan was slightly taller than Mu Chengyun, his posture straight and imposing, his presence completely overshadowing the other. His expression was leisurely, as if he didn’t even regard the other man as worth his attention.
Nor did he take Mu Chengyun’s words seriously—they might as well have been background noise, heard and then forgotten.
Wen Yifan faintly caught Sang Yan saying, "That phase is long past."
Mu Chengyun, standing opposite him, seemed momentarily stunned.
A few seconds passed.
"Right now, we're—" At this point, Sang Yan’s lashes flickered as his gaze met hers. As if recalling something, the corner of his lips curved slightly, and he enunciated each word deliberately, "Mutually. In. Love."
"......"
"Mutually in love," Sang Yan repeated, adding arrogantly, "Ever heard of that term?"
"......"
Qian Weihua, unaware of the context, didn’t understand what they were talking about and assumed it was just some youthful topic, so he didn’t interject.
But Wen Yifan knew very well that those words had originally come from her own mouth—and less than a night had passed since she’d said them.
On top of that, Sang Yan had spoken while staring directly at her.
At this moment, Wen Yifan inexplicably felt that his words were more for her ears than Mu Chengyun’s. And after she’d said them last night, Sang Yan had indeed laughed for a long time.
That pretty much solved the mystery.
He probably thought she looked silly saying something so earnest so seriously.
Wen Yifan pressed her lips together, feeling a little awkward.
Sigh.
But she had no experience with this sort of thing.
She just thought matters like these usually required some sense of ceremony—after all, it wasn’t like a marriage certificate with legal weight. Since there was no other proof, at the very least, they should go through the motions with words.
Just to make the relationship feel a bit more official.
With their arrival, the conversation between Sang Yan and Mu Chengyun was abruptly cut short.
Wen Yifan quietly returned to Sang Yan’s side.
The two of them walked at the back. Before long, Wen Yifan felt Sang Yan’s fingertips lightly hook against hers—just once, then release. The touch wasn’t too heavy or too light, just a faint tickle.
Instinctively, she looked up and met his slightly tilted face.
Sang Yan’s eyelids drooped lazily as he looked at her, his smile carrying a hint of roguishness. He bent slightly, leaning close to her ear, and asked in a low voice, "What about you? Ever heard of it?"
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