Wen Yifan's brow twitched, and she felt an inexplicable jolt of surprise.
This.
How could he.
Rise from the dead???
And what did he mean by just throwing a question mark at her?
Wen Yifan shifted her gaze upward, staring at the five words she had sent.
—Happy New Year ^_^
For a moment, Wen Yifan felt as though she had forgotten how to read.
What she sent was clearly a greeting, not some kind of profanity, right...?
Not to mention.
The act of just tossing a question mark back was quite intimidating.
Even through the screen, Wen Yifan felt thoroughly intimidated by him.
His reaction was as if he had seen someone he’d sworn never to interact with again.
No matter what the other person said, even if it was a simple greeting, he had to respond with a question mark to shut it down.
Hesitantly, Wen Yifan typed into the chat box: [Do you know who I—]
Before she could finish, she noticed someone brushing past her out of the corner of her eye. Instinctively, she looked up and saw Sang Yan stop about a meter ahead of her, standing beside a girl.
The girl was slender and quiet, her head bowed as if she was looking at her phone.
Recalling Sang Yan’s earlier conversation with his mother, this was probably his younger sister.
Wen Yifan still had some impression of this girl. She had seen her in high school—her name was Sang Zhi, about six or seven years younger than Sang Yan. Back then, she was still tiny, delicate as a porcelain doll, and Wen Yifan had to bend down to talk to her.
Now, she was almost as tall as Wen Yifan.
Sang Yan lazily called out, "Brat."
Sang Zhi looked up. "What?"
Sang Yan: "Heard you’ve been under a lot of stress lately?"
Sang Zhi replied dismissively, "Nope."
Ignoring her, Sang Yan continued, "Because of the upcoming college entrance exams?"
Wen Yifan was only separated from them by one person.
At this distance, their conversation was as clear as if a TV drama were playing right in front of her. She didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but their words kept flowing into her ears—
"I said no."
"Why overthink it?" Sang Yan drawled, as if determined to carry out the task his mother had assigned him. "Your big brother here didn’t study back then, and I still got into Nanwu University. Besides, even if your aptitude isn’t great, our family has the money to let you retake the exams."
"You didn’t study? You think I don’t remember?" Sang Zhi shot him a look, her tone growing irritated. "Relax, the Nanwu University you fought tooth and nail to get into? I could get in with my eyes closed."
"..."
"Also," she added after that jab, "I heard from Mom today that you quit your job?"
"..."
"Surely not, right?"
Sang Yan turned his head. "None of your business."
Sang Zhi continued as if she hadn’t heard him, "Were you fired and too embarrassed to say so?"
Before Sang Yan could respond, his phone rang. He glanced down and suddenly remarked, "If you won’t listen to me, how about letting your ‘dear brother’ comfort you instead?"
"Wha—" Perhaps seeing the caller ID, Sang Zhi instantly fell silent. After a few seconds, she muttered, "No."
Without another word, Sang Yan walked back to the pavilion to take the call.
Silence returned.
Though Wen Yifan hadn’t fully understood some parts of their conversation, being forced to overhear people she knew at such close range still left her feeling uneasy. Fortunately, she was wearing a face mask, which gave her a small sense of security.
Wen Yifan turned her screen back on.Noticing the unsent message in the input box, she felt it was inappropriate and deleted it all. She wanted to subtly confirm whether the other person knew this was her WeChat. After much deliberation, she cautiously replied with just: 【?】
Probably still on the call, there was no immediate reply from the other end.
Staring at the screen for two seconds.
Wen Yifan suddenly realized a problem.
Even if Sang Yan had really blocked her.
Her Moments.
Had not.
Blocked.
Sang Yan.
“...”
With this thought, Wen Yifan immediately opened her Moments.
There had been too many things happening recently, and her last post was already over two months ago. At that time, she was still in Yihe City, seemingly posted when she went to a bar with colleagues.
Wen Yifan’s gaze froze.
What caught her eye was a group selfie with her former colleagues.
In the photo, the others were grinning broadly, showing their teeth, striking various poses. Wen Yifan sat at the bottom left, her skin so fair it seemed overexposed, simply looking gently at the camera with a faint smile.
Her features were extremely clear.
...
The line gradually moved into the restroom, and just as several people exited the stalls, it was her turn. Wen Yifan snapped out of her thoughts, put her phone back in her pocket, and walked in.
A moment later, Wen Yifan stepped out.
The sinks were shared between men and women, located between the restrooms, about two to three meters wide.
Wen Yifan turned on the faucet, her mind in disarray.
So back at the bar, he had been pretending not to know her.
The mass holiday greeting was deliberately not sent to her.
His first reaction upon seeing her message was to snap back.
Wen Yifan looked up and, through the mirror in front of her, could see Sang Yan still standing in his original spot. He seemed to have finished his call, one hand in his pocket, the other fiddling with his phone.
No idea if he had replied to her message.
The next moment, Wen Yifan saw Sang Zhi emerge from the restroom as well, walking to the adjacent sink. But the faucet might have been broken—no water came out when turned on.
Wen Yifan had just finished and made room for her: “You can use this one.”
Sang Zhi immediately said, “Thank you.”
When their eyes met, Sang Zhi seemed to pause for a moment.
Wen Yifan didn’t notice, withdrawing her gaze as she walked out while pulling out her phone. The screen lit up, still on the chat window with Sang Yan.
This time, he hadn’t even spared her half a punctuation mark.
Understanding the reason, Wen Yifan fell silent for a while before typing in the chat box, “Should we just delete each other?”
But she quickly deleted it.
Glancing at the two question marks they had just exchanged, Wen Yifan paused, suddenly feeling like this chat history was filled with gunpowder, as if saying, “You think you’re the only idiot who can throw question marks around?”
But her intention wasn’t to argue with him.
Wen Yifan didn’t want to spoil the holiday mood, wondering how to back down.
She typed a single word.
【Then】
Staring at the question mark Sang Yan had sent and the word “happy” she had replied with, she hesitated before continuing to type.
【Or not happy is fine too.】
“...”
After sending the message, Wen Yifan also drew closer to where Sang Yan was standing. As they passed each other at a distance, she uncomfortably lowered her head, catching a glimpse of him opening WeChat from the corner of her eye.
The man’s long lashes lowered as he stared at the content on the screen.
Whether it was her imagination or not, Wen Yifan seemed to hear him let out a faint scoff.
Her back stiffened.
She continued walking for quite a distance.Only after putting some distance between them did Wen Yifan finally shake off that inexplicable sense of guilt. She turned her attention back to the screen, still unsurprised to find no reply.
She sighed, deciding not to dwell on it any longer.
Realizing she'd been gone for a while, Wen Yifan quickened her pace back to the filming location.
The scene was much the same as when she'd left.
The square was decorated with plants and small structures wrapped in colorful LED lights, creating a festive atmosphere. Crowds milled about as staff maintained order, everyone radiating holiday cheer.
All preliminary preparations were complete, awaiting only the arrival of the new year.
Qian Weihua and Zhen Yu were chatting while Fu Zhuang stood obediently beside them, listening without a word. Spotting Wen Yifan's return, he cautiously approached.
Fu Zhuang was a new intern hired two weeks prior, currently in his senior year of college. Contrary to his robust-sounding name, he was short and thin as a bamboo pole. With a boyish face oddly paired with a deep, resonant voice, he said gravely, "Sis, if you'd come back any later..."
Wen Yifan thought something had gone wrong. "What happened?"
"You might've only found my frozen corpse," Fu Zhuang lamented.
"..." Wen Yifan nodded. "Then thank you—I was just short on story ideas."
"In your eyes, I'm just material for a story!" Fu Zhuang accused, shivering violently yet speaking energetically. "Damn, I'm freezing my ass off here. This wind's making my nose run."
Wen Yifan studied him.
Like most young men his age who prioritized style over warmth, Fu Zhuang wore only a denim jacket utterly inadequate against the cold, his lips already tinged purple from the chill. His slender frame seemed moments away from being toppled by the sea breeze.
"The seaside is always colder. Dress warmer when covering outdoor stories next time," she advised, pulling a heat pack from her pocket. "Put this in your pocket to warm your hands."
"Ah, no need," Fu Zhuang declined, reluctant to take her things. "You keep it, sis. A girl like you must feel the cold more than me."
"But I already have two in my pockets," Wen Yifan said. "No room for this one."
"..."
This time Fu Zhuang accepted without hesitation, changing the subject: "By the way, sis, have you seen a firework show before?"
Wen Yifan hummed in affirmation. "But never one this large-scale."
Fu Zhuang asked, "Do wishes on these things come true?"
"No."
"..." He muttered, "I just wished to find a girlfriend next year."
Wen Yifan laughed. "Then definitely not."
"Sis Yifan, how could you!" Fu Zhuang protested. "Then how about a wish to grow five centimeters taller? Can guys still grow after twenty..."
This time Wen Yifan spared him.
Suddenly, Fu Zhuang pointed somewhere. "Hey, someone like that—my dream is to reach that height. I'd be content even being half a head shorter."
Wen Yifan followed his gaze and immediately fell silent.
Incredibly, the person Fu Zhuang indicated was Sang Yan.
Whether to call it fate or his haunting persistence was unclear.
He stood about ten meters away, leaning against the railing with his jacket billowing in the wind, chin slightly lowered as he idly scrolled through his phone. Sang Zhi, who'd been with him earlier, was nowhere to be seen."That's exactly my ideal physique," Fu Zhuang sighed. "Can I, under the witness of the heavens and fireworks, attach my head to his body today?"
Wen Yifan shifted her gaze back, amused. "Why not steal his face too?"
Fu Zhuang clearly had the same thought, his tone wavering with temptation. "Would taking two things be a bit too much?"
"..."
Qian Weihua suddenly called out to them.
Perhaps feeling guilty for ignoring them for too long, he professionally summoned them over to explain various precautions for the live outdoor broadcast.
Time passed gradually.
As the countdown to the New Year approached, the atmosphere grew increasingly lively. The LED screens on distant skyscrapers had already begun the countdown, and the surrounding crowd buzzed with excitement. In the final minute, people started chanting along with the numbers.
"—59, 58, 57."
...
"—5, 4, 3."
"—2!"
"—1!"
As the final number echoed, countless fireworks soared into the sky, streaking colorful trails across the night before exploding in bursts of vibrant hues. The fragmented lights blossomed into dazzling floral patterns, layer upon layer.
Everyone around raised their phones, searching for the perfect angle to capture the spectacle.
Once Qian Weihua had no further instructions, Wen Yifan also took out her phone to snap a few photos. When blocked by people in front, she moved to find a better spot.
The entire display lasted over ten minutes.
Unconsciously, Wen Yifan was pushed to the outskirts of the crowd near the railing. Noticing the firework show was nearly over, she turned to rejoin Qian Weihua when someone passing by accidentally bumped into her.
Wen Yifan stumbled forward uncontrollably—and collided with someone.
She immediately stepped back, looked up, and instinctively apologized, "Sorry."
Only as the words left her mouth did she realize the person she'd bumped into was Sang Yan. He was looking down at her with an inscrutable expression, seemingly in the middle of a phone call.
"—Yeah, heading back soon."
Out of politeness, Wen Yifan forced out another apology.
Sang Yan gave her a brief, indifferent glance before nodding slightly—as if acknowledging her words.
As Wen Yifan walked away, she faintly heard him say into the phone, "Happy New Year."
Returning to Qian Weihua's side, Wen Yifan belatedly touched her face. Feeling the mask still in place, she paused, her nerves easing slightly.
With her face covered, he probably hadn't recognized her... right?
...
Meanwhile, on the other end of the call.
Qian Fei, his college roommate and friend, had been chattering away before being interrupted twice in a row. After a few seconds of silence, he said, "Oh, I don’t actually care when you’re coming home, okay? But thanks anyway, bro. Happy New Year to you too."
Sang Yan raised an eyebrow. "Thanks for what?"
Qian Fei replied, "Aren’t you giving your dad New Year’s blessings?"
"Stop flattering yourself," Sang Yan drawled lazily. "Wasn’t talking to you."
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