Chapter 28
As the last firework faded into the night sky, the mountaintop fell silent once more, except for the lingering smell of gunpowder in the air. The snow fell even heavier, soaking Sang Nian's head. He shivered a couple of times from the cold, then pulled up the hood of his coat.
It was getting late, he had to go back, otherwise Ye Shu would worry if she found out he was missing. Sang Nian composed himself, turned to leave, but suddenly saw a figure blocking the bottom of the steps leading down the mountain. His heart skipped a beat, he tensed up, and gripped the scarf tightly around his neck, barely daring to breathe.
Who was standing silently behind him?
He stood still, staring intently at the figure.
The next moment, he saw the figure move. Sang Nian suddenly held his breath and took a step back. The pain he hadn't paid attention to when he fell was now much more apparent, and Sang Nian felt an unbearable pain in his back after just one step.
He opened his mouth, and white mist immediately rose before his eyes. The mist, mixed with the smell of smoke and the falling snowflakes, blended together, and he watched as the figure gradually became clearer as it slowly approached him.
When the face, hidden in the dim light, was fully revealed, Sang Nian was so shocked that he couldn't speak.
It turned out to be Wen Yan.
Didn't he warn himself not to appear in front of him? Then why...?
Wen Yan was wearing a custom-made gray wool coat, but instead of the sweatshirt she wore while grilling meat, she wore a black wool turtleneck sweater underneath.
It seems she went back to her room and took a shower.
He appeared extremely cold, but the moment Sang Nian saw Wen Yan, his heart warmed instantly. Despite Wen Yan's heartless words, he truly couldn't stop loving him.
It's unclear when it started, but enjoying banquets has become the only thing he can do.
Wen Yan stopped a meter away from Sang Nian. He glanced at Sang Nian, then took out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, pulled one out and held it between his fingers, before his gaze swept over Sang Nian again.
Sang Nian understood what he wanted to do almost immediately, still holding the lighter he had used to set off the fireworks. So he waved the lighter in his hand and walked up to him.
Wen Yan didn't speak, but tilted his head slightly to the right, then put the cigarette in his mouth and lowered his head. Sang Ning held up a lighter with one hand and blocked it with the other.
The two were very close, so close that Sang Nian could smell the faint perfume on Wen Yan's body.
It's not citrus flavored.
A hint of disappointment flashed across Sang Nian's eyes.
He still remembered the citrus scent on Wen Yan when he first met him, but every time they met after that, Wen Yan's perfume was different, but it was never the same one as before.
After lighting the cigarette, Wen Yan distanced himself from Sang Nian. He took only one puff, then held the cigarette between his fingers and let it hang down naturally.
To be honest, he didn't know what he was doing. He should have turned around and left immediately when he realized that the other person was Sang Nian, but his feet seemed to be rooted to the ground.
Not to mention using the clumsy method of borrowing a fire to give Sang Nian the opportunity to get close to him.
Has he gone mad?
But he also knew clearly that he wasn't crazy. Sang Nian was standing right in front of him, very close, and he could even see his thick eyelashes trembling slightly as the snowflakes fell.
Snowflakes melted into glistening water droplets that clung to his eyelashes. Sang Nian felt a little uncomfortable, so he frowned slightly and blinked. The water droplets then slid down his skin, from his eye sockets to his cheeks, and finally onto his small, thin chin.
Wen Yan's throat tightened involuntarily. He hastily averted his gaze, his lips immediately pursed into a thin line, and his dark eyes gradually deepened.
Sang Nian kept his eyes down, his gaze fixed on Wen Yan's slender fingers holding the cigarette. He had never seen Wen Yan paint; he had only heard that Wen Yan was Tao Wanru's student, and that after graduation, he didn't go to his family's company but instead opened a design studio.
I've heard that Wen Yan is best at portrait painting, but he doesn't usually paint people. After Sang Ning passed away, he returned to his own company and stopped going to the design studio, leaving it entirely to his partner. Ye Shu also said that he seems to have never picked up a paintbrush again.
What a pity.
Sang Nian himself had studied painting, so he naturally understood that sometimes talent is more important than hard work. Wen Yan was naturally gifted, while he had to put in tremendous effort to catch up even a little bit.
The memory of learning to paint for Wen Yan and joining the design institute to spite Tao Wanru and the others is still vivid, as if it were only a short time ago. That short week, however, is the only fond memory Sang Nian has left since returning to China.
Thinking of his painful memories, Sang Nian naturally became sad, and tears streamed uncontrollably down his face. Remembering Wen Yan's accusation that he was feigning helplessness to gain sympathy, Sang Nian was overwhelmed with grief, and an uncontrollable sob escaped from between his fingers covering his mouth.
A sigh suddenly came from above, and then a large, hot hand landed squarely on his head.
"Don't cry."
A slightly hoarse voice reached Sang Nian's ears again, restrained and aloof, yet incredibly gentle. Sang Nian suddenly froze, then turned his head to the side. He slowly raised his head, looking at Wen Yan, his voice still choked with sobs, "Why are you comforting me?"
Didn't you say you never wanted to appear in front of him again? Didn't you say you hated him? Then why did you do all that?
The moment his attack missed, Wen Yan felt a pang of regret, but his expression remained unchanged. He put his hand back in his pocket, his brows furrowing slightly as he pondered Sang Nian's words.
He didn't comfort him, Wen Yan thought.
He didn't understand why he did it; he just did it subconsciously.
"Then why are you crying?" Wen Yan felt as if he wasn't himself, his words and actions were not under his control.
Sang Nian shook her head, her eyes glistening with tears. "I just want to cry. You can think I'm just pretending to be pitiful."
"Heh." Wen Yan chuckled lightly. He turned around and stubbed out the cigarette that was about to burn out on the trash can, then looked up at the sky.
In just a short while, the snow fell even more heavily. If they didn't hurry back, it might be dangerous to go down the mountain. Wen Yan suddenly thought of the scene when he met Sang Nian in Dingzhou last year. It was also a snowy day like this. At that time, Sang Nian never hid his feelings, and his gaze followed him intently.
It was on that occasion that he heard Sang Nian say that she liked him.
But none of this matters anymore.
Wen Yan thought for a moment, then suddenly sighed. He looked back at the steps he had come from, which were now covered with a thin layer of snow.
"Let's go back."
After Wen Yan finished speaking, he turned and left.
Sang Nian was sobbing uncontrollably, trying to hold back his tears while simultaneously contemplating ending it all. When Wen Yan suddenly spoke up about going back, he was momentarily stunned, staring blankly as Wen Yan walked to the steps.
Hearing Sang Nian sobbing and remaining motionless behind him, Wen Yan felt a little weary. Even though Sang Nian was a ruthless person, he wasn't. On such a snowy night, leaving Sang Nian alone on the mountain was something he couldn't bear to do.
Moreover, when facing Sang Nian, if he didn't force himself to be ruthless, some inexplicable emotions would always surge within him.
So he urged again.
Sang Nian understood now. He quickly wiped away his tears, took a few breaths, and then walked towards Wen Yan. But after only a few steps, the soreness in his buttocks and waist became unbearable, and he didn't want to show weakness in front of Wen Yan, so he gritted his teeth and walked over step by step.
Wen Yan walked ahead, with Sang Nian following behind. The two remained silent as they descended the mountain. However, Sang Nian had overestimated his endurance. Before they even reached the halfway point, cold sweat poured down his forehead, and the unbearable pain became increasingly pronounced. He could barely endure it and gradually slowed his pace.
Hearing the barely suppressed sobs behind him, Wen Yan's already furrowed brows deepened. Suddenly, he stopped, turned around, and looked at Sang Nian, who was standing a few steps away.
A look of pain crossed his face, one hand on his waist, the other gripping the railing. Noticing Wen Yan's gaze, he was startled at first, then his entire back stiffened, appearing utterly helpless.
Wen Yan naturally noticed Sang Nian's unusual behavior. His first thought was that he was injured again, so he wanted to go up and help him. But as soon as he lifted his foot, he put it back down.
He could never forget the first time they met after Sang Nian returned to the Sang family. Sang Nian pretended to slip and fall into the pool behind him. At the time, he genuinely thought it was just an accident. It wasn't until later, after Sang Nian returned to China and joined the design institute, that they met again and Sang Nian fell, making him realize that this was a common trick of Sang Nian's. He was always willing to do anything to achieve his goals.
The gaze fixed on Sang Nian gradually turned cold. Wen Yan raised the corner of his mouth and smiled, then turned around and continued walking downstairs without saying a word.
Sang Nian's heart, which had been hanging in suspense, suddenly fell with a thud when Wen Yan turned around. His feet seemed to have suddenly lost their footing, and his legs went weak, causing him to collapse onto the ground.
This is the true Wenyan.
The Wen Yan who showed him a moment of concern on the mountaintop was probably just a figment of his imagination.
Sang Nian chuckled self-deprecatingly, then took a deep breath and prepared to get up from the ground, only to see a pair of black leather shoes sticking out from the steps in front of him. He slowly raised his head and saw Wen Yan standing in front of him, looking troubled and impatient.
Sang Nian closed his eyes, then slowly opened them.
Wen Yan was still standing in front of him; she hadn't disappeared.
Sang Nian smiled, a very happy smile. Tears streamed down his face as he smiled; he could sense Wen Yan's distress, yet he couldn't help but cheer, knowing Wen Yan hadn't abandoned him.
So he stretched out his hand and said in a coquettish tone, "I fell down when I was setting off fireworks. I didn't feel anything at first, but now my butt hurts more and more, so much so that I can hardly walk."
His eyes and nose were red and swollen, and tears glistened in his eyes, making him look extremely pitiful. Wen Yan couldn't stand seeing him like this, so she looked away and focused her gaze on what was behind him.
"I told you not to play the victim in front of me." He spoke harshly, his voice so hoarse that even he was startled.
Sang Nian's eyebrows curved into a smile, and the dimples at the corners of his mouth appeared and disappeared. He shook his arm, which was stretched out in mid-air, and said, "This time it's for real."
Wen Yan subconsciously grabbed his hand and slowly helped him up. Only when Sang Nian's entire weight was on him could he manage to squeeze out a single word.
"Um."
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