Chapter 13
That “bastard” left Wen Yan completely stunned.
The black lace lay quietly in Wen Yan’s palm, like unmistakable evidence. Under the reading lamp, it gave off a damp, ambiguous sheen.
After a brief blankness, Wen Yan’s brain immediately switched into analysis mode for unexpected situations.
Objective. Calm. Eliminate interfering factors.
First, item identification: women’s underwear, black, lace material, cotton lining.
Second, state analysis: in use, with traces of moisture.
Last, reconstruction of the scene: belonging to Jin Zijin, removed during the later handling about an hour and a half ago, folded and placed into a pocket...
The logic chain was clear.
But logic could not solve the shame and indignation nearly bursting out of Jin Zijin’s eyes at that very moment.
“You...” Jin Zijin’s chest rose and fell slightly. Her richly beautiful face looked even more vivid in her agitation, the flush at the corners of her eyes spreading all the way to her ears. “You actually made me... keep this on me... and sit at the dinner table for a whole hour.”
She tried to keep her usual cool tone, but the barely perceptible tremor in her voice gave her away.
Wen Yan heard it. Jin Zijin had been bullied terribly by her.
She blinked, then looked down again at the soft black bundle in her palm, and did something that nearly made Jin Zijin choke.
Wen Yan gently lifted the little piece of fabric with her fingertips and studied it very seriously in the lamplight for two seconds.
“The cotton lining has very good moisture absorption,” Wen Yan said, her voice as calm as ever, even carrying a faintly scholarly tone. “The lace crochet work is Italian craftsmanship; the spacing design should have taken breathability into account. However...”
She lifted her eyes to Jin Zijin, who was already staring at her in disbelief, and added earnestly, “Prolonged dampness against the skin can still increase the risk of local infection, even with high-quality fabric.”
“Taking it off was a wise choice. You did well.”
She sounded as if she were discussing a sprain or a bruise, and Jin Zijin was left dazed.
Jin Zijin opened her mouth, not knowing whether she should first snap, “Who asked you to discuss this with me?” or demand, “Are you giving me a health lecture right now?”
After a few seconds, she finally found her voice again, grinding out, “Wen Yan!”
Wen Yan answered at once, obedient and composed: “I’m here.”
She held the lace bundle carefully in her palm, setting it down neatly as though handling an important specimen, then looked straight into Jin Zijin’s burning eyes.
“It was my fault,” she admitted readily, without making excuses. “The situation was urgent. I should have handled it for you.”
“If I’d known you were going to take it off, I would have kept it in my pocket.”
Jin Zijin: ...
Was that the point here?
Ah.
Jin Zijin was furious enough to explode.
Her face flushed red as she clenched her teeth and glared at Wen Yan. “You... you...”
Wen Yan held the little thing in her hand and quietly waited for her next words.
Jin Zijin was almost ready to burst.
She reached out, snatched it from Wen Yan’s hand, and flung it at her again.
Wen Yan didn’t get angry. After being hit, she immediately caught it, held it in her hands, and asked, “Do you want to do that again?”
Jin Zijin fell silent: ...
A moment later, she picked up that soft cloud again and threw it once more.
After a whole string of throws, Wen Yan was always docile, like a cute little dog; every time it was tossed away, she would pick it up and hand it back to Jin Zijin.
Jin Zijin looked at her face, angry and annoyed, wishing she could reach out and pinch her hard a few times.
“Beast!”
“Mm.”
“Bad egg.”
“Mm.”
“Pervert.”
“...”
“Jerk!”
“It’s me.”
As Jin Zijin cursed her way through it, her tone gradually softened, but the red flush on her face didn’t fade in the slightest. “You just let me sit there and didn’t help me at all.”
Wen Yan looked up at the woman’s reddened eyes. She was gorgeous and fragile all at once, and Wen Yan’s heart melted into a mess.
“I’m sorry,” Wen Yan said again. This time her voice was lower, deeper. “It was my fault.”
She leaned forward, rising from the seat across from her, and naturally sat beside Jin Zijin.
In the spacious back seat of the Rolls-Royce, the distance between them had never been far to begin with; once she sat down like this, their shoulders were nearly touching.
Jin Zijin subconsciously tried to shift a little to the side, to preserve some semblance of dignity, but Wen Yan’s hand had already gently taken her wrist. In a soft voice, she said, “This is the first time I’ve encountered something like this. I don’t have much experience.”
“In the bedroom earlier, you were just too cute. I couldn’t control myself, so I lost control and did something so beastly. I didn’t mean any disrespect to you.”
Her apology was as sincere as the rest of her.
Jin Zijin was a little awkward and said, cheeks still flushed, “It’s not that I didn’t want to, it’s just...”
Well. She was embarrassed; she couldn’t go on.
Wen Yan held her hand and looked at her gently. “But you were angry.”
“I made you upset; that’s my fault.”
“I don’t know how to coax you. Tell me, how can I make you feel better?”
Wen Yan shook Jin Zijin’s hand a little, her whole heart and eyes full of her. “Mm?”
Jin Zijin looked into the sincerity in her eyes and, for a moment, didn’t know how to answer.
The carriage fell silent again.
Outside, the neon lights continued to flow past, casting shifting shadows across their faces.
The soundproof cabin isolated the whole world from them; all that remained was the soft hum of the air conditioner and their breathing.
Jin Zijin suddenly wasn’t that angry anymore.
Wen Yan’s clumsy honesty, with no technique whatsoever, was like a blunt knife that easily pried open the layers of armor around her heart.
She lifted a hand and rubbed Wen Yan’s ear, her face still pink. “Next time, you’re not allowed to do this again.”
“Okay.” Wen Yan answered quickly. “There won’t be a next time.”
After thinking about it, she added, “Or next time, I’ll remember to help you deal with it first.”
Jin Zijin shot her a glare and said, “Deal with this one first before you talk about next time.”
Wen Yan complied readily. “Then I’ll put it away now.”
She reached over and gathered up the black lace on the car seat, bunching it up, preparing to stuff it into her pocket.
Just then, Jin Zijin snatched it away and quickly shoved it into her own coat pocket. The movement was so fast it was almost a gust of wind.
Wen Yan looked at the tips of her reddened ears; the corners of her lips lifted ever so slightly.
“What are you smiling at?” Jin Zijin caught that curve keenly and immediately shot her a glare.
“I’m not smiling.” Wen Yan quickly restrained her expression and returned to that proper, honest look. “I just think you’re very cute.”
Jin Zijin’s heart skipped a beat.
She pressed her lips together and tried to stay calm. “Cut it out.”
“It’s true.” Wen Yan’s voice was very soft, but in the enclosed car it was extraordinarily clear. “The way you get angry, the way you get shy, and the way you were biting my shoulder and trembling in the room just now... all very cute.”
Jin Zijin felt her face burning.
She suddenly turned back to look out the window again, leaving only her reddened side profile and a slightly tight jawline visible to Wen Yan.
“Wen Yan.” She called her name, her voice carrying warning.
“Mm.”
“Shut up.”
“Okay.”
Wen Yan really did stop talking.
But she also didn’t return to the seat opposite; she stayed beside Jin Zijin, her shoulder lightly brushing against hers.
Her body heat passed through the thin fabric of her shirt, a steady and reassuring warmth.
The car moved smoothly through the night, heading toward the luxury residential district in Chengdong.
After a long while, Jin Zijin finally spoke in a much calmer voice, with only a trace of lingering awkwardness left. “I’ll settle accounts with you when we get home.”
Wen Yan tilted her head to look at her. “How will you settle them?”
“I haven’t decided yet.” Jin Zijin huffed. “In any case, just you wait.”
“Okay.” Wen Yan agreed, then paused before saying softly, “I can wait as long as you want.”
Jin Zijin’s heart softened again, embarrassingly so.
She looked at Wen Yan and pointed toward the window beside her. “You, move over there and sit properly.”
Wen Yan moved as instructed and sat properly. Jin Zijin pulled her overcoat around herself, then leaned her head against Wen Yan’s shoulder, the whole of her body nestling into her embrace.
Wen Yan lowered her gaze, looking at Jin Zijin curled up in her arms with both hands folded. Jin Zijin yawned and said, “Before we get home, you can act as my human cushion and serve me properly.”
Wen Yan smiled.
Looking at Jin Zijin’s long lashes drooping against her eyes, she said, “Okay.”
As soon as the words fell, Wen Yan wrapped her arms around Jin Zijin and let her rest comfortably against her.
Jin Zijin said nothing else, only closed her eyes.
At some point, Wen Yan had dimmed the reading light in the car.
Under the faint light, Wen Yan looked at the side of Jin Zijin’s face as she feigned sleep in her arms. Her gaze lingered on the faint tremble of her lashes, then she reached out and smoothed her hair.
Her touch was very gentle, like touching a fragile dream.
————————
By the time they returned to the Jin family estate, it was already eleven at night.
Jin Zijin no longer had the strength to “settle accounts.” Once they got home, the two of them went to wash up separately.
The water in the bathroom outside the master bedroom stopped.
Wen Yan walked in with half-dry hair and saw Jin Zijin already seated in the center of the king-size bed.
The woman had changed into a silk dark-green robe; the sash was loosely tied, revealing a small stretch of pale skin below her collarbone.
She leaned against the headboard, a hardcover book spread open on her lap, but her eyes weren’t on the pages. She was looking toward the bedroom door, as if waiting for something.
The warm bedside lamp cast a soft shadow over her profile, softening the sharp lines she usually wore.
Wen Yan paused.
Jin Zijin looked up and gave an order: “Come over here and blow-dry my hair.”
Her tone was so natural it sounded as though this had been their routine for years.
Wen Yan walked over and sat at the edge of the bed, then picked up the hair dryer from the nightstand and plugged it in.
While she was doing that, she heard the soft sound of Jin Zijin closing her book.
Wen Yan turned the dryer to its lowest warm setting, first slipping her fingers into Jin Zijin’s half-wet hair to test the temperature, and asked casually, “Who usually dries your hair?”
Through the noise of the dryer, Jin Zijin’s voice was a little blurred, but still clear enough: “At home, I usually don’t wash my hair.”
Wen Yan’s hand paused.
Jin Zijin added, matter-of-factly, as if she were speaking about today’s weather, “I usually make an appointment in the office; the stylist comes to provide door-to-door service.”
Wen Yan: “...”
She silently continued her work, her fingers weaving through the thick, slightly wavy black hair, feeling the strands grow light and dry under the warm air; she couldn’t help but shake her head and laugh.
Her wife really was an empress.
Even washing and blow-drying her hair had to be handled during “office hours” by a specialist, as though private time and bodily care were two things that had to be strictly separated.
The warm air hummed on; the scent of shampoo lingered with a crisp cedar note, mixed with the faint citrus warmth on Jin Zijin’s body, making the atmosphere both ambiguous and dreamy.
Wen Yan unconsciously softened her movements, as if tending to some precious and fragile craftwork.
Just when she thought Jin Zijin might drift off under the warm breeze, the other woman suddenly said, “Give me your right hand.”
Wen Yan turned off the dryer. “Hm?”
“Your hand.”
Jin Zijin repeated, already turning around and stretching out her own hand toward Wen Yan.
Wen Yan didn’t understand, but still handed over her right hand.
Jin Zijin took her wrist, her fingertips tracing each long finger one by one, finally stopping at the base of the ring finger.
“Today at the dinner table,” Jin Zijin said, her eyes lowered, her thumb rubbing lightly over that spot, her tone calm and unreadable, “your cousin kept looking at your hand.”
Wen Yan paused. She hadn’t noticed at all.
Jin Zijin lifted her eyes, her gaze sharp. “She was looking at the ring finger on your right hand.”
She let go of Wen Yan’s hand and leaned back against the headboard again, folding her arms. “Seeing that there was no ring on your hand, she kept checking whether our relationship really seemed as good as it appeared.”
Wen Yan looked silently at her empty ring finger and fell into thought.
She had been suddenly pushed into the spotlight.
The original ring had been made to Wen Chen’s size. Even though her fingers were already a little larger than most girls’, it was still too big.
It didn’t fit.
And because she’d been in surgery all the time, she hadn’t worn it after the wedding.
Wen Yan realized she’d made a mistake today and looked up at Jin Zijin, her tone sincere. “Sorry. I didn’t think it through today.”
“Next time, I’ll definitely wear it.”
But Jin Zijin waved it off, not caring much. “It’s fine. I didn’t wear mine today either, because that wasn’t our wedding ring.”
She looked up at Wen Yan, her face especially radiant beneath the lamplight. “Wen Yan...”
She called her name, then said calmly, as if stating a fact: “We need to make a new pair of wedding rings. During this time, both of us should pick styles we like.”
As her words fell, the bedroom sank into a brief silence.
Only the humidifier’s faint hiss of mist remained.
Wen Yan looked at Jin Zijin.
The woman sat in the warm light, her expression still cool and indifferent, as though what she had just said was nothing more than “let’s have sandwiches for breakfast tomorrow.”
But Jin Zijin had noticed.
She had noticed the probing looks even Wen Yan herself had ignored; she had noticed the part missing from their marriage right now...
And not only had she noticed; she planned to fix it.
She really did value this marriage, and she really did value herself.
It felt as if a warm hand had gently closed around Wen Yan’s heart; a sour, swelling warmth rushed from her chest to every limb and bone.
Wen Yan opened her mouth, only to realize she couldn’t make a sound.
Any words felt pale at this moment.
She felt like every part of her body was burning.
Suddenly, Wen Yan leaned forward, cupped Jin Zijin’s face, and brushed the other woman’s slightly parted lips with her thumb. In a hoarse voice, she asked, “Do you want to do it?”
Jin Zijin was clearly stunned.
She seemed unable to follow the leap in thought, and a trace of genuine confusion flickered in her eyes. “...What?”
But Wen Yan gave her no time to untangle the question.
She lowered her head and kissed her.
This kiss carried unmistakable aggression; it was urgent, deep, and even a little reckless.
Wen Yan’s hand slid from Jin Zijin’s cheek to the back of her neck. Her palm pressed against that elegant curve, applying a little force, closing the distance between them to zero.
Jin Zijin’s breathing hitched for a moment.
Then she closed her eyes.
No pushing away, no questioning, not even a trace of hesitation.
She lifted her arms and wrapped them around Wen Yan’s neck, her fingertips sinking into the other woman’s soft hair.
It was a silent permission, a tacit conspiracy.
The kiss gradually spun out of control.
Wen Yan’s body pressed down, trapping Jin Zijin between herself and the headboard.
At some point, the sash of the robe had come loose; the silky fabric slipped down along her shoulders.
Warm yellow light flowed over the exposed skin, gilding it with a honey-like sheen.
Between breaths, Jin Zijin panted, her voice soft and sticky. “You... what are you suddenly going crazy for...”
Wen Yan kissed along her jaw, the edge of her teeth lightly grazing that delicate skin as she replied hoarsely, “I don’t know.”
She really didn’t know.
She only knew that the tide of emotion surging in her chest needed an outlet.
Gratitude, being moved, a sense of belonging, and some possessiveness even she hadn’t fully identified yet...
All of it mixed together, finally becoming the most primitive kind of taking in this moment between lips and teeth.
She wanted to confirm it.
Confirm Jin Zijin’s warmth, confirm her existence, confirm whether all of this was real.
Clearly, before this, she had never once thought that marriage or a partner had anything to do with her.
But fate had suddenly turned; her wife had come to her side.
Was all of this real?
It wouldn’t be a dream, would it?
Otherwise, how could there be such a wonderful person?
Jin Zijin seemed to understand the words Wen Yan hadn’t finished saying.
She gave a low laugh, the sound muffled in her throat, carrying a note of indulgence.
She lifted a leg, her knee brushing against Wen Yan’s waist and pressing her more tightly against her.
“Then...” Her lips brushed Wen Yan’s ear, hot breath sweeping over it. “Do it.”
Those two words were like the spark that lit the final fuse.
Wen Yan no longer restrained herself.
Her hand slipped beneath the robe, her palm pressing against the warm skin at Jin Zijin’s waist as she traced upward along the hollow of her spine.
An orthopedic doctor’s familiarity with bones and muscles, at this moment, transformed into another kind of precision.
She knew where to press to make the other woman tremble; she knew which section of her spine to stroke to draw out a suppressed whimper.
Jin Zijin’s breathing was completely thrown into disorder.
She tilted her neck back, like a swan at the edge of death, exposing the most vulnerable curve of herself beneath Wen Yan’s lips.
Wen Yan obediently kissed her there, leaving wet warmth along the undulating line.
Outside, the night was deep and heavy; all was silent.
Only in this bedroom did mingled breathing and suppressed low moans become the world’s only sound.
No one knew how much time passed.
The fierce tide finally receded slowly, though its aftershocks still rippled through every limb and bone.
Wen Yan was draped over Jin Zijin, her forehead pressed into the hollow of her shoulder as she steadied her breathing.
There was a thin layer of sweat over both of them; where their skin touched, everything was sticky and warm.
Jin Zijin’s hand stroked Wen Yan’s damp back once, then again, her fingertips unconsciously tracing circles over the clear outlines of her shoulder blades.
After a long while, Wen Yan finally spoke in a muffled voice, still rough from desire fading away. “Thank you.”
Jin Zijin’s hand paused.
“For what?” she asked, her own voice slightly hoarse, but carrying more languid softness.
“For the ring,” Wen Yan said, then after a beat, “and... everything.”
Jin Zijin was silent for a moment.
Then she lifted her hand and gently rubbed the back of Wen Yan’s head.
The motion was very light, as if soothing some uneasy animal. “This is what I should do.”
So you don’t need to thank me, because we’re each other’s partners.
No extra promise, no sentimental reply, but Wen Yan understood.
She murmured an “Mm,” slid down from Jin Zijin’s body, and lay beside her. For the first time, she took the initiative to stretch out an arm and pull the other woman into her embrace.
Jin Zijin liked her initiative very much. She adjusted into a more comfortable position and buried her face in Wen Yan’s shoulder.
The bedside lamp was still on, casting a warm glow over their intertwined bodies.
Wen Yan looked at Jin Zijin’s gradually relaxing sleeping face in her arms. Her gaze finally fell on the hand resting at her waist; the fingers were long and distinct.
The ring finger was empty.
But soon, it wouldn’t be.
How nice. She had a wife.
And her wife was this good; Wen Yan, you were way too lucky.
You really were ridiculously fortunate.
She reached out and took Jin Zijin’s hand, bent her head to kiss the top of it, then reached out to turn off the light and closed her eyes.