Nan Hong - Chapter 14
For Wen Yifan, the situation struck like a bolt from the blue—sudden, jarring, and without the slightest warning.
She hadn’t been consulted, hadn’t even been given a hint by Wang Linlin that a new roommate had been arranged. This was a matter that affected her most directly, yet she had been pushed aside, reduced to an outsider in her own home. By the time she learned of it, the matter was already settled.
The absurdity of it left her stunned.
Even with her usual calm composure, once the reality sank in, a rare wave of anger welled up. She stared at Sang Yan, who stood there as if equally blindsided, and resisted the impulse to drive him out on the spot. Clearly, from his reaction, he hadn’t been informed either.
Wen Yifan wasn’t the type to vent her frustration on the wrong person. She took a breath, bent down to untie her shoes, then gestured toward the sofa with a polite detachment, as though hosting a guest.
“Please sit for now. I need to make a phone call.”
Sang Yan didn’t move.
Without pressing the matter, Wen Yifan went straight into her room, closing the door behind her.
It was nearly eleven at night. Her only plan had been to take a shower and collapse into bed. Instead, she now had to deal with this mess. She dialed Wang Linlin’s number, not caring whether she was asleep.
The call rang for a long time before a groggy, irritated voice answered.
“Who is it?! Are you crazy? I’m sleeping!”
“It’s Wen Yifan.”
“Ugh, whatever it is, tell me tomorrow. I’m exhausted.”
“I won’t keep you long,” Wen Yifan said evenly. “Did you give the apartment key to someone? There’s another person living here.”
“Huh?” Wang Linlin’s voice sharpened. “Who? Don’t tell me it’s my boyfriend—are you trying to seduce him?”
“It’s not your boyfriend,” Wen Yifan said curtly. “It’s Sang Yan.”
“Oh, that’s fine then.” Wang Linlin’s tone relaxed, even lapsed into a smug lilt. “Right, I forgot to tell you. I was worried sick about finding someone to take over my lease, so I complained to my boyfriend. He must’ve helped me privately. I didn’t even know—it was supposed to be a surprise.”
Wen Yifan had expected at least a touch of apology. Clearly, she had overestimated her.
Suppressing her irritation, Wen Yifan listened in silence as Wang Linlin continued, voice dripping with self-satisfaction.
“Sang Yan’s house caught fire, so he needs a temporary place. Come on, just live with him—it’s not like—”
“What did you tell me before?” Wen Yifan cut her off.
The shift in tone stunned Wang Linlin for a moment. Then she scoffed. “Why are you being so fierce? He’s not a bad guy. He’s tall, good-looking, comes from money. Honestly, aren’t you the one getting the better end of this deal?”
“What did you say to me before?” Wen Yifan pressed.
“I don’t remember. Why are you making such a fuss?” Irritation flared in Wang Linlin’s voice. “You’re just worried he still likes you, aren’t you? Don’t flatter yourself. I heard from my boyfriend that he never had a girlfriend in college—everyone thought he was dating his dorm mate. He’s probably gay. My boyfriend might even be in danger.”
The nonsense rolled on.
Wen Yifan closed her eyes briefly, unwilling to waste more words.
“Don’t worry, he’s gay,” Wang Linlin added, as though that solved everything. “And even if he wasn’t, plenty of people live with the opposite sex. One of my exes was my roommate at first.”
Finally, Wen Yifan spoke again, her words calm but barbed:
“From what you’re saying, you and Su Hao’an must be very close. The man picking you up in a Ferrari these days—he must be his friend.”
A sharp pause. “What do you mean?”
“Oh, since you think living with Sang Yan is so wonderful, why don’t you move back in and live with him yourself?” Wen Yifan’s smile was faint but cutting. “After all, one more wouldn’t hurt. Two, three relationships at once—you’d manage just fine.”
––
Meanwhile, in the living room, Sang Yan was on the phone with Su Hao’an, his patience gone.
“Are you out of your mind?”
“Whoa, easy there,” Su Hao’an replied, his background noisy with bar chatter. “Why’re you swearing as soon as you pick up?”
“Don’t tell me you didn’t know someone else was living here.”
“Oh, that? Why should you live in such a big place alone? Sharing rent makes sense while your house is being renovated.”
“Do I look like I need to split rent?” Sang Yan’s tone was icy.
“You might not, but come on—it’s Goddess Wen. Don’t you see? I did you a favor. You don’t need to thank me.”
“I’m coming to your place right now.”
“Forget it, I’m busy tonight. Stay where you are. Honestly, what’s so inappropriate about living with a girl?”
Sang Yan’s laugh was humorless.
“And besides,” Su Hao’an added slyly, “our Goddess Wen is gorgeous. What if history repeats itself? Be her knight again—maybe she’ll finally fall for you.”
Before he could finish, Sang Yan hung up, hearing movement from the hallway.
Wen Yifan reappeared, her expression calm but steady.
“Can we talk?”
––
They sat at opposite ends of the sofa, silence stretching between them.
Wen Yifan spoke first. “This seems to be a misunderstanding. It’s late, so I’ll book a hotel for you nearby. Later, you can find a more suitable place.”
Sang Yan leaned back lazily, eyes half-lidded.
“You haven’t really moved in, so there’s no need to waste time unpacking. Since neither of us knew about this beforehand, let’s not turn a mistake into something worse,” she continued. “And I imagine you’re not used to sharing an apartment anyway.”
“Mistake?” He echoed the word softly, almost amused.
Her brows drew together, lips pressed thin. Normally unflappable, she looked unsettled, even cornered, yet still careful not to provoke him.
“And how do you know what I’m used to?” he asked.
“Sharing an apartment requires compromise. Usually, people only do it for financial reasons. That doesn’t apply to you,” she said evenly.
“My house burned down. Renovations cost money.”
“You own a bar,” she reminded him.
“It barely makes anything,” he shot back, tone deliberately vexing.
Suppressing a sigh, Wen Yifan tried again: “My schedule is erratic. I often come home late, work odd hours—it’ll disturb your rest.”
“Then be quieter when you come back,” he said without missing a beat.
“…”
She steadied herself, then spoke plainly. “We’re of opposite sexes. It’ll be inconvenient in many ways. I doubt you want to second-guess everything you do at home.”
“Why would I?” Sang Yan’s gaze fixed on her, his lips curving into a faint, mocking smile. “Wen Yifan, your attitude is… interesting.”
Her eyes flickered. “What do you mean?”
“You seem to think I’m still hung up on you. That I’ll cling, like before.” His tone was cold, deliberate.
“…” Wen Yifan faltered, almost choking. “That’s not what I meant.”
“I didn’t expect you to think of me as so… devoted.”
“I’m only explaining our situation,” she said tightly. “You’re misinterpreting my words.”
He leaned forward slightly, his voice low and careless. “I’ve already moved my luggage in. Three months, no more—I’ll leave once the renovations are done. In the meantime, don’t get any closer to me.”
“You only brought one suitcase,” she pointed out.
“Why are you so concerned?” He tilted his head, studying her. “What’s the matter? Did I get it wrong?”
“What?”
He looked her over slowly, then dropped the words with casual cruelty.
“Is it you who can’t get over me?”