Chapter 48: Only Like You

His profile was sharp and distinct, eyelashes slightly lowered, an expression suggesting contentment—perhaps even quiet joy.

Inexplicably, though this was merely a photograph, Wen Yifan still felt warmth spreading across her face. It was as if she'd been transported back to that precise moment when the shutter clicked, to that instant when Sang Yan had been watching her. Even through the screen, even across time, his gaze found her.

Wen Yifan touched the back of her ear, discomfort blooming beneath her fingertips as she turned off the screen.

Sang Yan's behavior was blatant, without the slightest attempt at concealment. Even frozen in a photograph, one could sense his overwhelmingly potent presence—the kind that demanded acknowledgment.

Looking at it now, Wen Yifan couldn't fathom why she hadn't noticed his gaze at all in the moment itself.

The realization struck her then: she had asked Sang Yan for these photos earlier, and he'd flatly refused, claiming he "didn't have any."

Her lips curved into a slight smile.

Several seconds passed.

Wen Yifan turned the screen back on and methodically saved all five photographs. She opened her gallery, selected one, and carefully cropped it to show just the two of them together—a universe reduced to two people.

…

Qian Weihua drove directly to the site of the collapsed tunnel.

The area was a construction zone, a mountain looming on one side, the tunnel still incomplete. Though they'd rushed over from Nanwu the moment news broke, quite a few media reporters had already assembled, having converged from various locations.

Fearing another collapse that could trigger secondary casualties, the scene had been cordoned off with police tape, establishing a safe perimeter. The railway bureau, in conjunction with the construction unit, had formed a rescue team, dispatching numerous personnel from Nanwu.

Eight workers were trapped in the collapsed tunnel. Their condition remained unknown.

After reviewing blueprints and assessing on-site conditions, the rescue team held a meeting and devised several rescue plans. They first attempted to open ventilation holes to establish communication with the trapped personnel.

Then they opened a channel for transporting food.

During this time, Qian Weihua negotiated with the rescue team repeatedly, mostly receiving refusals. Only when the situation had stabilized somewhat did the rescue team reluctantly agree to have someone escort them inside to film a general overview.

Only Qian Weihua and Wen Yifan went in. Mu Chengyun remained outside.

The tunnel was deep and seemingly endless. What had once stretched toward infinity was now blocked by collapsed rock and sand, becoming enclosed and eerily claustrophobic. Inside, light was scarce, and the ground was muddy, strewn with stones piled into small slopes—dirty, chaotic, treacherous.

Hundreds of rescue workers in uniform clothing moved purposefully through the space. Groups carried pipes or wielded various equipment, all consumed by their tasks, with no attention to spare for anything else.

Though Wen Yifan had covered many collapse accidents before, this was the first time she'd encountered one this catastrophic.

Just witnessing it was heart-wrenching.

For safety reasons, the rescue team didn't permit media reporters to linger.

They went in to record general footage, then emerged. Back in the car, Qian Weihua transmitted the recorded video to the station, while Wen Yifan focused intently on composing her article on her laptop.

Mu Chengyun suddenly spoke up. "Sister Yifan, what happened to the back of your ear?"

Wen Yifan responded, confused. "Hm?"

Qian Weihua beside her noticed immediately as well, frowning. "You're bleeding. When did that happen?"

At this, Wen Yifan pulled down the makeup mirror to examine herself. She discovered a small cut behind her ear, now bleeding, the sight somewhat alarming against her pale skin.

Wen Yifan lowered her head, extracting a tissue from her bag with practiced calm. "I might have been scratched by some debris when we went in."

Mu Chengyun murmured, "Doesn't it hurt?"

Wen Yifan smiled faintly. "It's fine. Now that you mention it, it does hurt a bit."

Accidents were common in this line of work. After the incident where Sang Yan was injured protecting her, Wen Yifan had started keeping iodine and bandages in her bag for emergency wound treatment.

Wen Yifan pressed the tissue to stanch the bleeding, treated it briefly, then applied a conspicuously large bandage.

The entire rescue operation lasted four days and three nights.

All eight workers were recovered alive, though one had sustained a severe head injury from falling rocks. Despite the rescue team's constant encouragement and reassurance, the mental state of the other seven remained fragile due to their colleague's condition.

The moment they were extracted, they were rushed to the hospital.

Fearing they might miss crucial developments, Wen Yifan and her team barely left the scene during this period. They mostly took turns resting in the car or briefly returned to the hotel to freshen up before rushing back.

After returning from the hospital and transmitting the videos and articles back to the station, Qian Weihua instructed them to return to the hotel and rest properly.

After all, they still had to visit various locations to interview experts, the injured, and other relevant personnel.

It would be a prolonged assignment.

The hotel had been booked by Mu Chengyun—near the accident site, in a somewhat remote location with a less-than-ideal environment. Only two rooms for a total of five days, with plans to relocate later when conducting follow-up interviews.

Wen Yifan, being the only woman, had one room to herself. The two men shared the other.

The shower took almost half an hour.

Afterward, Wen Yifan reapplied medicine to her wound, then collapsed onto the bed.

She had barely touched a proper bed in days, and now reality felt strangely distant. Her eyelids were heavy with exhaustion, yet she still opened her phone to check unread messages.

Due to time constraints, Wen Yifan had been replying to recent messages whenever she snatched spare moments.

Her responses were perfunctory—basically just answering whatever the other person asked with a few cursory words.

Wen Yifan opened her chat window with Sang Yan.

Previously, she had usually dominated more of the chat interface, but now it had become predominantly Sang Yan. His countdown, which he'd maintained religiously for a while, had gradually evolved from voice messages to simple numbers.

They seemed particularly impatient.

But since Wen Yifan had come to Beiyu on this business trip, the numbers had reverted to voice messages. And after discovering that her replies were glacially slow and perfunctory even after the countdown concluded, he'd started adding: "Received, reply."

Today's voice message included an additional sentence at the end.

"Give me an apple when you come back."

Wen Yifan checked the date and realized today was already Christmas Eve. Only single-digit days remained until Sang Yan's birthday. She sighed, thinking she probably wouldn't make it back in time.

Originally, if not for this business trip, Wen Yifan would have been on New Year's rotation leave this year. Moreover, Nanwu wasn't holding a fireworks show this year, so she most likely wouldn't have had to work overtime.

And then—she should have been able to spend New Year's Eve with Sang Yan.

Wen Yifan sighed and typed: [I'm at the hotel now, preparing to sleep.]

Wen Yifan: [Merry Christmas Eve.]

After thinking for a moment, she sent a small apple emoji and continued: [You can look at this with your eyes for now. I'll give you a real one when I get back.]

Wen Yifan was so exhausted she could barely keep her eyes open. After replying, she turned off the screen. But Sang Yan responded quickly, and the next moment her phone vibrated. She groggily opened her eyes and checked again.

Four voice messages, playing one after another in succession.

Sang Yan: "Okay."

Sang Yan: "Go to sleep. Remember to lock the door."

Sang Yan: "Don't sleepwalk all over the place."

The last one—

"If you want to sleepwalk, just wander around in your room." His tone was characteristically arrogant and drawling, still managing to sound haughty and provocative. "I'm the only one who can be the victim, you know?"

---

Over the following days, Wen Yifan continued rushing around the small city as usual. The follow-up interviews proceeded more smoothly than she'd imagined—aside from poor attitudes from some interviewees, there were no major obstacles.

Sang Yan also seemed extraordinarily busy, working overtime frantically during the year's final days.

Sometimes when Wen Yifan replied to his messages at three or four in the morning, he was still in the office, hadn't gone home yet.

Without realizing it, Wen Yifan welcomed the new year in this unfamiliar city.

Despite working day and night, Wen Yifan still couldn't make it back before Sang Yan's birthday. She'd originally planned to return on the 2nd, but there was one final interview scheduled for that afternoon.

The three of them had all been severely sleep-deprived during this period, and Qian Weihua didn't want to drive back the same day, fearing that operating a vehicle while fatigued late at night might lead to an accident. Plus, it coincided with the holiday—high-speed rail tickets had been snatched up long ago.

Wen Yifan was at a loss.

In the early hours of that day, Wen Yifan timed it perfectly and sent a message to Sang Yan: [Happy birthday ^_^]

Wen Yifan: [I ordered a cake for you. It should be delivered to your home around noon.]

Wen Yifan: [As for the gift, I'll give it to you when I get back.]

Sang Yan: [Quite sincere.]

Sang Yan: [Not bad, considering I counted down for seventy whole days.]

Wen Yifan blinked: [But I probably won't be able to get back today. I'll be back tomorrow.]

Sang Yan: [Oh.]

The next moment, Sang Yan sent a voice message, his tone lazy, seemingly a bit drowsy.

"Then let's consider my birthday to be tomorrow this year."

After a while, another one arrived.

"One day left."

…

The next afternoon, Wen Yifan and Mu Chengyun made a trip to the hospital. Qian Weihua went to the accident site alone to complete the final report. The three split into two groups, working collaboratively.

Wen Yifan was interviewing the seriously injured survivor.

He had only regained consciousness yesterday, and Wen Yifan had coordinated with the family to arrange the interview for this afternoon. After completing this interview and returning to write the article, the final work of this business trip would be finished.

Leaving the ward, Mu Chengyun checked the time. "Sister Yifan, shall we go back to the hotel now?"

Wen Yifan nodded, about to respond when suddenly a male voice sounded from nearby. Hoarse and rough. Her expression froze slightly, and she looked over to see a man sitting in the front row of chairs in the adjacent department.

He appeared to be in his thirties or forties, with deeply tanned skin, wearing worn clothes that made him look unkempt overall. His forehead wrinkles were pronounced, and when he smiled, his entire face creased, the expression particularly unsettling.

At this moment, the man was on the phone, speaking very loudly, his voice carrying a pleading tone. He wasn't looking in their direction at all.

Wen Yifan withdrew her gaze, expression unchanged. "Yes, let's go back and write the article."

---

Back at the hotel, Wen Yifan opened her laptop and efficiently composed the article, sending it to the editor. After proofreading was complete, she glanced at the time—just after 4 PM. She zoned out for a while, feeling suffocated by the room's stale air.

Wen Yifan didn't want to remain confined and thought that since she'd come to this city, she might as well go out for a walk.

She took her room key and left.

In the brief time she'd been inside, the sky outside had turned ominous, with large patches of dark clouds crowding together oppressively. It added a cold filter to the city, making everything feel particularly heavy.

For Wen Yifan, this city was completely unfamiliar territory.

She had only lived here for two years, and most of that time had been spent at school and her uncle's home, leaving no time for other leisure activities. She had no idea what entertainment options this city offered, only knowing a few fixed locations.

The hotel they were staying at now was in Beiyu's city center, very close to her high school.

Wen Yifan wandered the area, unconsciously walking to that familiar noodle shop. Her footsteps halted as she stared at the storefront that had hardly changed in several years, her expression somewhat dazed.

By the time Wen Yifan came back to her senses, she was already inside.

The light was blindingly white, and the interior decoration hadn't changed substantially—only some items had been replaced with newer versions. The tables and chairs maintained the same layout as before, arranged in two neat rows.

Even the owner at the cash register was still the same person.

But he had aged, his body slightly hunched, his hair beginning to silver.

Wen Yifan felt as if she'd stepped into another dimension.

She paused for several seconds, then walked over to sit in the exact spot where she used to sit with Sang Yan every time they came. She lowered her eyes, quietly staring at the menu pasted on the table.

Before long, the owner noticed her presence. "What would you like to eat?"

Wen Yifan looked up. "A bowl of wonton noodles."

The moment she spoke, recognition dawned in the owner's eyes. His expression registered surprise as he approached, his smile extraordinarily kind. "Little student, it's you? You haven't been here for a long time."

Wen Yifan nodded. "Yes, I haven't lived in this city since I finished the college entrance exam."

"I see." Seeing her arrive alone, the owner's lips moved as if he wanted to ask something, but he ultimately said nothing. "Well, wait a moment. I'll go make it now."

"Mm." Wen Yifan nodded. "No rush."

The owner disappeared into the kitchen.

Wen Yifan was the only customer in the shop. She glanced at her phone—no activity on WeChat.

At this moment, a sudden pattering erupted outside. The compressed cloud layers finally couldn't bear their burden, and bean-sized raindrops crashed down, colliding with the concrete ground and creating tremendous cacophony.

The world blurred into watercolor.

Wet, cold air diffused inward, making one simultaneously alert yet unable to resist losing focus.

In this familiar environment, for one fleeting moment, Wen Yifan felt as if she'd returned to the past. She looked at the empty seat across from her as if she could see through time itself—the young Sang Yan sitting silently opposite her.

That boy who, from their first meeting, had seemed too proud to ever bow his head, living recklessly and unapologetically, yet in their last meeting had softly asked her, "I'm not that bad, am I?"

He'd even attributed his behavior to the most embarrassing word: "clingy."

For so many years, it seemed Wen Yifan had never fought for anything for herself. She always retreated into her protective shell, living by unspoken rules, not arguing with anyone, and not harboring intense emotion toward anyone.

Even toward Sang Yan.

She seemed to always position herself in a safe location.

Trying not to cross boundaries, trying to ensure she could retreat unscathed.

Only daring to slowly cast her line toward him, waiting for him to take the bait, to deliver himself to her doorstep.

But at this moment, Wen Yifan suddenly didn't want to leave the initiative in Sang Yan's hands at all. She didn't want Sang Yan—from the past to the present—to always be the one who gives.

She didn't want Sang Yan to say such words. To have to lower his head again because of her.

The noodles arrived at precisely this moment.

The owner displayed his familiar smile. "Eat up. You're making this old man a bit embarrassed. My cooking skills haven't changed in so many years—it's rare that you still come to support me."

Wen Yifan responded with an "okay."

The owner continued chattering as he returned to the cash register. "How come it's suddenly raining so heavily? It's quite cold…"

Wen Yifan lowered her eyes, staring at the steaming noodles before her, the mist rising and inexplicably making her eyes sting. She blinked hard, mustered courage she didn't know she possessed, and called Sang Yan.

Listening to the ringing on the other end, Wen Yifan's mind went blank.

She had no idea what she should say next.

It rang three times.

Then it was picked up.

Seemingly having been asleep, Sang Yan's voice emerged hoarse, edged with impatience at being woken. "Speak."

Wen Yifan called his name softly. "Sang Yan."

He was silent for several seconds, seeming to wake more fully. "What's wrong?"

Although the answer seemed quite clear already, she was still afraid. Still worried about the unknown.

She had many concerns.

Afraid that it was just her misconception.

Afraid that he only liked the version of her from high school.

Afraid that after getting together, he might suddenly realize she wasn't as good as he'd imagined.

But at this moment, Wen Yifan wanted to be honest with him.

Wanted to tell him.

Wanted him to feel that he wasn't always the only one giving.

That boy who could cross a city multiple times, sitting alone on a high-speed train for an hour just to see her once—all those actions he'd taken weren't the "clinginess" he'd imagined.

She had treasured all those moments like precious gems.

Just never daring to recall them, never daring to mention them again.

In this instant, Wen Yifan heard her heartbeat thundering. "Does what you said before still count?"

"Hm?"

"You said if I pursued you—" Wen Yifan paused, suppressing the tremor in her voice, finishing word by word, "you would consider it."

The moment these words fell, the other end seemed to go silent. Everything froze.

Not even breathing could be heard.

"I just wanted to tell you about this situation in advance." Wen Yifan was so nervous she could barely form words. She didn't know how Sang Yan would respond, but she tried to finish the rest. "So you can think about it first."

After saying this, without waiting for his reply, Wen Yifan quickly hung up the phone.

She was silent for a while.

Wen Yifan stared at her phone resting on the table. No further activity.

As if by this silence, she had received her answer.

Wen Yifan didn't know how to describe her current feelings.

After a long time, Wen Yifan lowered her eyes and slowly began eating the noodles. The taste was indeed no different from before—the broth very light, the noodles lacking chewiness, utterly ordinary.

She wasn't particularly hungry, but she still slowly consumed all the noodles.

Outside, the sky gradually darkened.

The rain continued heavily, showing no signs of abating.

Wen Yifan set down her chopsticks, looking outside, her demeanor quiet and composed.

Noticing her gaze, the owner took the initiative. "Little student, let me lend you an umbrella. This rain doesn't look like it will stop anytime soon. You can return it whenever you have time to come back."

Wen Yifan shook her head and smiled. "I want to sit for a while longer."

She probably wouldn't come back again in the future, Wen Yifan thought.

So she wanted to look at this place a bit more, hoping to commit it to memory for a long time. Hoping that even when she was old, she would still remember that there was once such a precious place. That in those suffocating times, there had still been such a place where she could steal some leisure, some brief respite.

Time ticked by, second by second.

Noticing the rain outside gradually lessening, Wen Yifan slowly returned to herself. She didn't intend to linger any longer, gathered her things, and was about to stand to bid the owner farewell when there was movement at the door.

Wen Yifan looked over reflexively.

Her expression froze completely.

In her field of vision, there was only Sang Yan's sudden appearance. He wore a pure black windbreaker, the collar slightly obscuring his chin. In his hand was a transparent umbrella, his shoulders slightly damp from rain.

After entering, Sang Yan didn't look anywhere else.

He directly met her gaze.

At this moment, everything seemed to slow down, as if entering an old film reel.

The small noodle shop, maintaining the same appearance for many years, looked dilapidated yet achingly nostalgic. The shop was playing an unknown Hong Kong drama, looking very dated, the background music mingling with the sound of rain.

Behind the man was still that vast sheet of raindrops, misty and blurred.

He had come through all of that.

Looking like a travel-worn wanderer who had finally found his way home.

The owner spoke up at this moment. "Handsome guy, what would you like to eat?"

Seeming to remember this owner as well, Sang Yan looked up and smiled. He used the same form of address as before, speaking politely. "Next time, Uncle. I'm here to pick someone up this time."

The owner raised his head. "Oh, it's you."

Sang Yan nodded.

"I just saw this little student come alone. I thought you two weren't in touch anymore." As he spoke, the owner looked at both of them. "That's nice."

As if recalling the past, the owner sighed with genuine warmth.

"After so many years, you're still together."

Hearing these words, Wen Yifan's fingers stiffened slightly.

But Sang Yan didn't explain anything, just nodded. "We'll be going now. Next time we come to Beiyu, we'll come to support your business again." He looked at Wen Yifan, reaching out his hand toward her. "Come."

Wen Yifan stood and walked toward him. "How did you come here?"

Sang Yan lowered his eyes, staring at her intently. "I was on the high-speed train when you called."

Wen Yifan made an "oh" sound.

Sang Yan opened the umbrella, speaking casually. "Let's go."

Wen Yifan stepped under the umbrella beside him. Because of the phone call earlier, she felt somewhat awkward being with him now, and actively tried to make conversation. "How did you know I was here?"

"Coming to Beiyu—" Sang Yan said, "it's a habit to come here."

"…"

The two left the shop, walking along the street.

This city was backward, hadn't changed much in so many years. Further ahead was the alley they'd walked through countless times. In another direction was the bus stop where Sang Yan would wait for the bus every time he came and every time he left.

The two walked forward in silence.

After an indeterminate amount of time, Sang Yan's footsteps suddenly stopped.

Wen Yifan stopped accordingly.

Around them was the overwhelming sound of rain, beating heavily on the umbrella, almost drowning out all other sounds. Raindrops fell into puddles on the ground, blooming into small flowers that existed only for an instant.

This grand curtain of rain was like an enormous protective shield, isolating the two of them from the entire world.

Sang Yan lowered his eyes to look at her, suddenly calling out, "Wen Shuangjiang."

Hearing this name—the name he'd given her so long ago—Wen Yifan's heart skipped a beat, and she raised her eyes involuntarily.

"I've always thought this kind of talk was particularly sappy, feeling embarrassed to say even one word." Sang Yan's eyes were deep, seeming even more profound than the bottomless night. "But in this lifetime, I have to say it once."

Wen Yifan stared at him, speechless.

"Haven't you realized yet?" Sang Yan bent down slightly, gradually closing the distance between them, the youthful air in his brow and eyes just like in the past. "After all these years, I still—"

His words followed these scattered raindrops, forcefully crashing down.

As if also crashing directly into her heart.

"Only like you."

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