On a rare day off, Wen Yifan stayed up late watching a horror movie.
The eerie atmosphere relied entirely on background music and screams, with no truly frightening scenes—bland as plain water. Driven by her OCD, she forced herself to stay awake and finish it.
As the credits rolled, Wen Yifan felt a sense of relief. She closed her eyes, thoughts quickly tangled by drowsiness. Just as she was about to drift into sleep, suddenly, the door was slammed hard.
*Bang.*
Wen Yifan snapped her eyes open.
Following the moonlight slipping through the curtain gap, she looked toward the door. Outside, she could clearly hear a man's slurred voice from drunkenness, accompanied by stumbling footsteps heading in another direction.
Then came the sound of the door opening and closing.
Most of the noise was muffled.
She stared at the door for several more seconds.
Only after it fell completely silent did Wen Yifan relax.
She pursed her lips, a delayed flush of irritation rising.
*How many times has this happened this week?*
Her sleep broken, Wen Yifan found it hard to fall back asleep. She turned over and closed her eyes again, idly trying to recall the movie she'd just seen.
Hmm.
Was it a ghost movie?
Or some low-budget flop that thought it could scare people.
...
Half-asleep, an image of the ghost's face from the movie suddenly appeared in her mind.
Three seconds later,
she shot upright and turned on the bedside lamp.
—
The rest of the night, Wen Yifan slept fitfully. Half-awake, half-asleep, she felt as if a bloody ghostly face was staring at her from beside the bed.
Only when dawn finally broke did she manage to fall into a deeper sleep.
The next day, Wen Yifan was woken by a phone call.
Due to the late night and lack of sleep, her head throbbed with a prickling pain. Annoyed, she sluggishly picked up the phone and answered.
On the other end, her childhood friend Zhong Siqiao's low voice said, "I'll call you back later."
"..."
Wen Yifan blinked, her brain briefly freezing.
Calling her just to wake her up was bad enough.
But it wasn't even the main call—it was just a teaser.
Her morning mood instantly exploded. She blurted out, "Are you storing—"
Before she could finish, the call was cut off.
Her fist felt like it hit cotton as she opened her eyes and deflated. After lying in bed a while longer, she checked the time on her phone.
Nearly two in the afternoon.
Wen Yifan got up without lingering, grabbed a jacket, and left the warmth of her bed.
Walking into the bathroom,
Wen Yifan was brushing her teeth when her phone rang again. She freed a hand, swiped the screen, and put it on speaker.
Zhong Siqiao's voice came first: "Damn, just ran into a high school classmate. I'm rocking greasy hair and no makeup—so embarrassing!"
"That's hardly fatal," Wen Yifan mumbled through the foam, her words muffled, "Sounds like you're just looking for trouble."
"..." Zhong Siqiao was silent for three seconds, then gave up debating, "Wanna go out tonight? Reporter Wen. You've been working overtime all week. If you don't have some fun soon, I'm afraid you'll drop dead."
"Okay. Where to?"
"How about near your office? Not sure if you've been there. My coworker says there's a bar where the owner is ridiculously—" Zhong Siqiao began, then suddenly noticed a sound, "Hey, why is there water noise on your side? Are you washing dishes?"
Wen Yifan: "Washing up."
Zhong Siqiao, surprised: "You just woke up?"
Wen Yifan groaned a soft "Mhm."
"It's two o'clock already. Even a lunch break would be over by now." Zhong Siqiao found it strange. "What were you doing last night?"
"Watched a horror movie."
"What's it called?"
"'Seeing Ghosts Upon Waking.'"
Zhong Siqiao clearly knew the movie and choked on her words: "That counts as horror?"
"Finished it and went to sleep," Wen Yifan ignored her remark, grabbed a towel and dried the water droplets from her face. "Then I suddenly woke up in the middle of the night... and, just like in the movie, I saw a ghost."
"..."
"I spent the whole night fighting with the ghost."
Zhong Siqiao was speechless. "Why are you suddenly talking about such an adult topic?"
Wen Yifan raised an eyebrow. "Why's it adult?"
"What fight lasts a whole night?"
"..."
"Alright, stop thinking about ghosts. Big sister will take you out to chase guys." Zhong Siqiao smiled brightly. "Handsome, lively, hot men."
"Then I'll just chase ghosts." Wen Yifan grabbed her phone and walked out of the bathroom. "At least they're free."
Zhong Siqiao: "Who said men cost money? We can chase them for free too."
Wen Yifan: "Hmm?"
"By using your eyes."
"..."
—
After hanging up, Wen Yifan messaged her landlord again about last night's situation. Then she hesitated and added that she might not renew the lease once the contract expired.
Two months ago, she moved to Nanwu City from Yihe.
The current apartment was found with Zhong Siqiao's help, with no major issues.
The only inconvenience was that it was a shared rental. The landlord converted an 80-square-meter apartment into three separate rooms, each with its own bathroom. So there was no kitchen or balcony.
But the price was cheap.
Wen Yifan didn't have many requirements for her living space. Besides, the location was convenient and lively. She even considered renting long-term.
Until one day, she ran into the man living next door as she left the house.
Gradually, things evolved into what they were now.
Unnoticed, the sun set, and a layer of darkness covered the cramped room. Lights in thousands of homes flickered on one after another, illuminating the city in another way, while the night market grew bustling.
Seeing the time was near, Wen Yifan changed clothes and did a simple makeup.
Zhong Siqiao bombarded her with messages on WeChat.
Grabbing a small bag from the coat rack, Wen Yifan replied with a voice message, "Heading out now." She stepped outside, glanced across the street, and quickened her pace, heading down the stairs.
They arranged to meet at the subway station.
Their destination was the bar Zhong Siqiao mentioned earlier, located opposite Shang'an Plaza. Passing through a gate, they saw an endless row of neon signs decorating the storefronts.
A place that only came alive at night.
Known as the "Fallen Street," it was the city's famous bar district.
Because they'd never been there before, they wandered around for a while until finally spotting the bar tucked in a corner.
The name was interesting — "Overtime."
The sign was simple: pure black background with neat, square white letters. Amid a crowd of colorful, garish neon lights, it looked low-key, like a small salon.
"That's a clever idea," Wen Yifan commented after staring for a moment. "Opening a salon on the bar street. Guys looking to pick up girls can come here first for a makeover."
Zhong Siqiao twitched her mouth and dragged her inside. "Stop talking nonsense."
Unexpectedly, inside wasn't as quiet as Wen Yifan imagined.
They arrived early, before peak hours, but most seats were already taken.
On stage, a woman holding a guitar sang softly, setting a gentle, emotional mood.
At the bar, a bartender with yellow hair was juggling cocktail shakers like a performer—casual yet skilled.
Finding a seat, Wen Yifan ordered the cheapest drink.
Zhong Siqiao scanned around, a little disappointed. "Is the owner not here? I don't see any handsome guys."
Wen Yifan rested her cheek on her hand casually. "Maybe it's that bartender."
"Nonsense!" Zhong Siqiao couldn't accept that. "My coworker who hangs around Fallen Street all year says the bar owner here is basically a Fallen Street celebrity."
"Maybe he's just self-proclaimed."
"?"
Noticing Zhong Siqiao's dubious glance, Wen Yifan sat up straighter and emphasized, "I said maybe."
Zhong Siqiao huffed.
They chatted casually for a while.
Zhong Siqiao mentioned something from noon: "By the way, I met my high school class vice monitor today. He went to Nanda University too, seems to have shared a dorm with Sang Yan, but I never really saw him."
Hearing that name, Wen Yifan stiffened slightly.
"Speaking of which, remember—" Zhong Siqiao's gaze casually flicked, suddenly fixing on the bar. "Hey, look at the ten o'clock direction—is that the Fallen Street celebrity?"
At the same time, Wen Yifan heard someone call out, "Brother Yan."
She looked that way.
At some point, a man had appeared next to the bartender.
The bar's lighting was dim. He half leaned on the counter, back facing the bar, head slightly turned as if talking to the bartender.
Wearing a pure black jacket, tall and straight-backed, he was slightly hunched, taller than the bartender beside him.
His eyes were dark, lips curved faintly, with a hint of world-weariness.
The colored disco lights above cast streaks across his face.
At that moment, Wen Yifan recognized him.
"Holy shit."
Probably sharing her discovery, Zhong Siqiao exclaimed in shock, "Girl, that's Sang Yan—the top dog here!"
"..."
"Why is it every time I mention him, you run into him? Remember him? Before you transferred, he chased after you..."
Wen Yifan's eyelashes fluttered.
Just then, a waiter passed by, and Wen Yifan felt uneasy, about to interrupt when suddenly there was a shout.
She looked up and saw the waiter had been bumped. The tray tilted, causing the glasses on it to tip over.
—Right towards her.
The drink mixed with ice splashed onto her left shoulder, running down.
She wore a loose sweater today; most of it was soaked, and the cold seeped through, making her scalp tingle.
Wen Yifan gasped and instinctively stood up.
The music was loud, but the commotion was still noticeable.
The waiter looked pale, apologizing repeatedly.
Zhong Siqiao also stood and patted the ice off Wen Yifan's clothes, frowning. "You okay?"
"Yeah," Wen Yifan's voice trembled uncontrollably but she wasn't angry. She looked at the waiter, "No need to apologize anymore, just be more careful next time."
Then she said to Zhong Siqiao, "I'm going to the restroom to clean up."
After speaking, she lifted her eyelids and unexpectedly caught a gaze.
Deep, indifferent, yet vaguely unreadable.
They held the look for two seconds.
Wen Yifan withdrew her eyes and headed towards the women's restroom.
Finding a stall, she took off her sweater, left with just a tight undershirt.
Fortunately, the sweater had protected her somewhat.
Holding the sweater, she went to the sink, wet some tissue and tried her best to dry off the spilled drink.
After tidying up, she walked out.
From the corner of her eye, she saw a person standing in the hallway.
Wen Yifan glanced instinctively, and her steps paused.
The man leaned against the wall, a cigarette in his mouth, eyelids half-lowered, looking relaxed and indifferent.
Unlike before, his jacket was off, casually held in his hand.
He wore only a black T-shirt.
It had been six years since they last met.
Not sure if he recognized her, Wen Yifan didn't know whether to greet him. Struggling less than a second, she lowered her eyes and decided to pretend she didn't know him, forcing herself to keep walking.
The dark, minimalist decor, with irregular stripes spreading on the marble tiles reflecting light.
A female singer's voice drifted nearby, soft and lingering.
Getting closer.
About to pass by him.
At that moment,
"Hey." He suddenly murmured lazily.
Wen Yifan stopped, about to look over.
Without warning, Sang Yan tossed his jacket over her head, blocking much of her vision. She froze for a moment, then reached up and pulled it down, feeling puzzled.
Sang Yan didn't raise his head, flicked off his cigarette in the nearby trash.
Neither spoke first.
It seemed like a long pause, but only a few seconds passed.
Sang Yan slowly lifted his eyelids and met her gaze. His brows carried a trace of distance.
"Let's talk." he said.