This remark instantly reminded Wen Yifan of last year when Sang Yan had said relatives were visiting his home, causing him to spend the entire New Year away. Her lips moved slightly, but words failed her. After a long pause, she finally managed, "I don't really have much concept of holidays. You should spend time with your family."
"Visiting relatives is exhausting," Sang Yan chuckled. "Do I look like someone who enjoys holidays to you?"
Unsure how to respond, Wen Yifan took a bite of her apple and continued watching the movie.
Yet her mind was elsewhere.
Thinking of Zheng Kejia's recent message and how Sang Yan could instantly sense her mood, Wen Yifan found it hard to describe her current emotions.
Those unpleasant feelings seemed to be replaced by something else.
Not exactly bad.
Just leaving her feeling somewhat stifled.
Partly due to family troubles.
But mostly because of Sang Yan—and her own habitual way of handling things.
Even knowing she wouldn't go home for New Year, Sang Yan never asked why. Perhaps to avoid potentially awkward topics, he simply followed her lead and straightforwardly came to keep her company.
Yet she always avoided these conversations.
Her only response to such matters was escape—complete unwillingness to mention them.
He wanted to know, but she didn't want to talk.
So he pretended not to want to know either.
Making up her mind, Wen Yifan suddenly called out, "Sang Yan."
His gaze still on the TV, he responded absently, "Hmm?"
"The message earlier was from Zheng Kejia," Wen Yifan also looked at the screen, feigning casualness. "She said my mom asked if I'm coming home for New Year."
"..."
"But my relationship with my stepfather's family isn't great." Wen Yifan paused briefly before continuing, "Not long after my dad passed away, my mom remarried."
Sang Yan immediately turned to her, his previously playful expression fading. "When was this?"
After a few silent seconds, she answered truthfully, "Second semester of tenth grade."
"..."
"It was—" Wen Yifan's voice strained slightly, "during class, when the teacher called me out—"
The memory abruptly surfaced, transporting her back to that afternoon in the new semester.
Wen Yifan remembered—it was an exceptionally cold winter.
Despite the tightly closed classroom windows, chilly drafts still seeped in from somewhere. Her fingers grew stiff from cold, making her handwriting appear different than usual.
As the math teacher's monotonous voice lulled her toward drowsiness,
Zhang Wenhong suddenly appeared at the doorway. Holding a phone, her expression urgent and flustered, she interrupted the lesson: "Sorry, Teacher Chen."
The math teacher asked, "What's wrong?"
"There's something..." Zhang Wenhong looked at Wen Yifan. "Yifan, come with me."
For some reason, the moment she saw Zhang Wenhong, Wen Yifan felt an ominous premonition. As if—before major tragedies occur—God grants the involved parties this merciful buffer out of compassion.
Yet she assumed it was something minor. At worst, a scolding or parental meeting—just another teenage "catastrophe" of the kind her peers regularly experienced.
All her classmates' eyes immediately turned toward Wen Yifan.Even Sang Yan, who had been lying on the desk, straightened up slightly.
Wen Yifan snapped awake, feeling somewhat dazed. She put down her pen and walked toward Zhang Wenhong.
Zhang Wenhong pulled her aside to speak.
As if afraid of upsetting her, Zhang Wenhong’s tone was gentler than ever, her sympathy evident: “Go pack your things. Your mother just called me and said she’s coming to pick you up now.”
“...” Wen Yifan froze. “What’s wrong?”
“Your dad...” Zhang Wenhong struggled to finish. “His condition isn’t good.”
...
At that moment, Wen Yifan felt as if she were dreaming.
There had been no warning. Her mind went blank, and the words sounded like an absurd fantasy—utterly incomprehensible. Yet she didn’t dare refute her teacher’s words, acutely aware that her entire body was trembling.
Wen Yifan returned to the classroom expressionlessly.
Standing by her seat, she yanked her backpack out of the desk drawer.
With a clatter.
The force sent its contents spilling onto the floor.
The math teacher paused again, frowning. “What’s going on?”
Wen Yifan turned blankly, snapping back to reality. “Nothing. Sorry, teacher.”
She slowly picked up the scattered items, and the student beside her crouched to help. Wen Yifan murmured a quiet “thank you” before standing up.
She slung her backpack over her shoulders and prepared to leave.
Before going, she inexplicably glanced in Sang Yan’s direction.
He was still sitting there, his expression unreadable, his gaze fixed on her.
Their eyes met.
Wen Yifan pressed her lips together tightly, turned, and left the classroom. Clutching the leave slip Zhang Wenhong had given her, she hurried toward the school gate, her mind replaying the teacher’s words.
Your dad’s condition isn’t good.
Condition.
Isn’t good.
What did that mean?
Why wasn’t her dad okay?
He had been fine.
Not long ago, he’d told her he’d be coming home soon.
Handing the slip to the security guard, Wen Yifan left the school and dug her phone out of her backpack. She turned it on and immediately called Zhao Yuandong, as if seeking confirmation.
It took a long time for the call to connect.
Zhao Yuandong’s voice was choked with tears, clearly having just cried: “Ajiang...”
At that moment.
Wen Yifan truly believed Zhang Wenhong’s words. Her lips moved, but something seemed lodged in her throat, rendering her speechless. She didn’t want to hear Zhao Yuandong continue.
“I asked your uncle to pick you up, but it’ll take him a while to get there,” Zhao Yuandong steadied her voice with effort. “Just take a taxi to the city hospital. Your aunt will come down to bring you up.”
“...” Wen Yifan replied softly, “Okay.”
She hung up and walked to the bus stop near the school.
Nanwu No. 1 High School was a closed-campus institution, located in a remote area with few people around. Wen Yifan waited several minutes but saw no taxis.
When a bus arrived, she boarded without waiting further.
At this hour, the bus was empty except for her and the driver. Wen Yifan walked toward the back, feeling an overwhelming emptiness, as if the world were crumbling around her.
The bus started moving.
After a few seconds, it jerked to a sudden stop.Wen Yifan sat in her seat, her body leaning forward slightly from the inertia. She looked up to see the bus doors open as a young boy climbed aboard, thanking the driver before walking toward her, slightly out of breath.
"..." Wen Yifan murmured, "Why did you come out?"
"Suddenly didn't feel like going to class," Sang Yan replied casually as he took the seat beside her. "Thought I'd try skipping for once."
Under normal circumstances, Wen Yifan might have bantered with him further. But at this moment, she had no mood for jokes. She merely forced a faint smile before lowering her gaze again.
Strangely, the urge to cry seemed to surge up with his arrival.
A few seconds passed.
Sang Yan asked softly, "What's wrong?"
"..." Wen Yifan looked at him again, about to shake her head.
But at that very moment, tears fell uncontrollably.
Drop by drop, heavy and relentless.
Feeling utterly embarrassed, Wen Yifan immediately turned her face away. She clenched her teeth, trembling all over as she fought back the tears. A storm of contradictions raged within her—this journey felt unbearably long, yet she wished it would never end.
She couldn't see Sang Yan's expression behind her.
Only feeling that,
Her world had completely collapsed in that instant.
But the next moment,
The scent of sandalwood from the boy enveloped her senses. Her body stiffened as she lifted her lashes slightly, her vision now obscured by the blue-and-white striped fabric of his school uniform. Tears still pooled in her eyes, silently rolling down.
Through the jacket,
She could hear Sang Yan's voice.
So quiet it was almost inaudible, carrying a hint of comfort.
"Now I can't see it."
...
Wen Yifan remembered how cold it was that day. The sky was overcast, blanketed by thick clouds that seemed ready to crush the earth at any moment. Even in the afternoon, not a single ray of sunlight could be seen.
Her gaze remained fixed sideways, staring out the window. The residual warmth from the boy's clothes seeped into her.
In that moment, it was the only thing she could feel.
Wen Yifan stayed frozen in place, motionless. After what felt like an eternity, she finally reached up to grip a corner of the jacket. Her hold gradually tightened as the tension in her spine slowly eased.
All her restraint dissolved in an instant with that simple gesture.
Her tears seemed endless now, and a choked sob escaped her throat before she could stop it.
Beside her, Sang Yan remained silent, not uttering a word.
A quiet companionship. Just his way of telling her he was there.
By the time they reached their stop, Wen Yifan had barely managed to compose herself. She rarely cried, and now her eyes ached from the tears. She wiped them away with her sleeve before removing Sang Yan's jacket and turning to face him.
Noticing her movement, Sang Yan looked over.
Their eyes met briefly.
Wen Yifan silently averted her gaze, using her hair to block his line of sight.
Not a word passed between them.
When the bus announced their stop, Wen Yifan stood up.
Sang Yan, seated on the aisle side, made room for her to exit first. Seemingly at a loss for words, he simply followed behind her, quieter than ever before.
As they stepped off the bus, the biting cold wrapped around them mercilessly. Worried Sang Yan might catch a chill, Wen Yifan handed his jacket back, her voice thick with congestion. "It's freezing. Put this on."
Sang Yan took it. "Yeah."Knowing he had skipped school because of her, Wen Yifan sniffled and added, "You should go back to school. Don't skip classes—the teacher will get angry. You might get your parents called in again. I can just take a taxi, and my mom will come pick me up."
Sang Yan was silent for a few seconds before replying, "Okay."
After a long pause.
Wen Yifan looked up at him and said earnestly, "Thank you."
Thank you for coming.
For giving me the strength to keep going.
At least it made this journey feel less unbearable than I’d imagined.
The bus didn’t go directly to the city hospital, so Wen Yifan had to get off at this stop and take a taxi the rest of the way.
Just then, a taxi arrived, and Sang Yan silently hailed it for her. Then, he turned his head slightly, his voice low. "Wen Shuangjiang, I don’t know what’s happened to you."
So he didn’t know what to say.
Afraid of saying the wrong thing, afraid of reopening her wounds, afraid that any attempt at comfort might backfire.
And so, he chose to say nothing at all.
"I’m not very good with words," Sang Yan bent slightly to meet her eyes, speaking with solemnity, "but no matter what, I’ll always be here for you."
At that reckless age.
Most people spoke impulsively, without much thought, without considering whether they could truly keep their promises. Later, as they grew older, they might forget those words as idle chatter, or dismiss them as insignificant, unfulfilled promises.
Even Wen Yifan, back then, thought Sang Yan’s words were just comfort.
A casual reassurance.
But it wasn’t until much later that Wen Yifan realized.
That wasn’t the case at all.
Sang Yan always kept his promises.
If he said something.
No matter the obstacles, no matter how difficult, he would do everything in his power to make it happen.
Wen Yifan slowly pulled her thoughts back to the present. She took another bite of her apple and glanced at Sang Yan. After hearing her words, his eyes lowered slightly, and from this angle, the lighting cast his expression in shadow.
Worried that the heavy topic might make him uncomfortable, Wen Yifan added, "It was a long time ago."
Sang Yan seemed to snap out of his thoughts and turned to look at her.
Wen Yifan blinked. "What’s wrong?"
"Nothing."
Just feeling grateful.
That back then, he had chosen to skip class.
Sang Yan lowered his gaze and asked casually, "So later, you moved in with your stepfather and your mom?"
"Yeah, but things didn’t work out well." Wen Yifan skipped over some details and summarized, "So I ended up moving in with my grandma."
"Was she good to you?"
Wen Yifan was momentarily confused. "Huh?"
"Your grandma," Sang Yan repeated. "Was she good to you?"
Wen Yifan paused, then smiled. "Yeah, she was. She loved my dad a lot, so she loved me too."
After she finished speaking, Sang Yan studied her for a moment, his mood seemingly lighter. "What’s the deal with that stepsister of yours?"
"Hmm?"
"Acting," Sang Yan scoffed, "like she’s so close to you."
"No, that’s just her personality. She’s spoiled by her dad." Sang Yan was probably referring to how Zheng Kejia had casually handed her the unwanted drink. Wen Yifan explained, "She’s used to having the best and never settling. If she doesn’t like something, she expects others to deal with it.""She's just a little girl who's been spoiled since childhood." Wen Yifan understood, speaking calmly and gently. "Her father dotes on her, and since I'm a few years older, I usually have to give in to my younger sister."
"Give in to your younger sister?" Sang Yan laughed. "Where did that rule come from?"
"..."
Mentioning this, Wen Yifan's mind flashed to how she treated Sang Zhi.
Before she could respond, Sang Yan suddenly leaned back, resting against the sofa. As he did so, he tugged her arm, pulling her into his embrace.
Caught off guard, Wen Yifan tumbled onto him.
Then, with some effort, he wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her onto his lap. He made no further moves, simply holding her quietly.
The position was intimate and tender.
Being this close to him made Wen Yifan a little nervous. She looked down at him. "What's wrong?"
Sang Yan was straightforward. "Just wanted a hug."
"..."
"Where does all the food you eat go? Your bones are digging into me," Sang Yan said, pinching the flesh on her arm as if it were a monumental task. "When are you going to put on some weight?"
Wen Yifan immediately replied, "My friend said I've gained weight."
Sang Yan raised an eyebrow. "Who? Trying to make you unhappy on purpose?"
"..." Wen Yifan pressed her lips together but couldn't help laughing. "Is there something wrong with you?"
Wanting her to gain weight.
Yet when someone else said she had, he started picking faults.
Sang Yan watched her laugh and lightly raised a brow. "Now you're resorting to personal attacks."
Wen Yifan was still laughing.
The living room wasn't quiet—aside from their conversation, the background music of the movie played loudly, intense and stirring, but neither paid it any attention.
After a long moment, Sang Yan reached up to touch the corner of her eye and suddenly called her, "Wen Shuangjiang."
"Hmm?"
"Don't take any of that nonsense your stepsister said or those ridiculous standards and apply them to me, got it?" Sang Yan's eyes were dark as he spoke deliberately. "Did you think I just randomly bought everything in this house?"
Wen Yifan froze, her lips parting slightly.
"Every single thing was picked for you. But if you don’t like something, just leave it there." His tone was even, yet carried a faint edge of displeasure. "And what do you mean by saying your stepsister is just used to that?"
"..."
"With your taste in partners," Sang Yan stared at her, suddenly kissing the corner of her lips before declaring arrogantly, "you deserve nothing but the best. Understand?"
Back in her room after the movie, Wen Yifan reflected on the film's content and realized she could barely remember any of it. It suddenly struck her that watching movies with Sang Yan was impossible for her.
As long as he was there, her attention seemed to fixate solely on him. Even something as simple as focusing on a movie became an insurmountable challenge.
It was always like this.
Wen Yifan pressed her lips together, her body still carrying traces of Sang Yan's scent, as if his embrace had only just happened. The memory of sitting half on his lap made her cheeks warm again.
She took a deep breath, deciding to take a shower to cool down.
In the bathroom, Wen Yifan undressed and turned on the shower.
Gradually, her thoughts drifted, and she found herself recalling the messages Zheng Kejia had sent her, one after another.At this moment, only one word lingered in her memory.
When Zheng Kejia had complained earlier, she had used the word "they."
This meant that unlike last time, Che Yanqin wasn't the only one who had come. Su Liangxian and Wen Ming might have arrived as well, and... at this thought, Wen Yifan suddenly recalled the middle-aged man she had seen at Beiyu Hospital.
Che Xingde.
Che Yanqin's younger brother.
He might have come along too.
Though Wen Yifan didn’t want to dwell on these matters, every time she thought of these people, her mood would inevitably be affected. But strangely, recalling them now, she felt nothing—no ripples of emotion.
Even if there was any impact, it was minimal.
So slight it could be ignored.
All her emotions had been overwhelmingly occupied by someone else. There was no room left for anything else.
Wen Yifan suddenly touched the corner of her lips.
It seemed that as long as he was there,
all the bad feelings would vanish without a trace.
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