Chapter 15
After finishing the last consultation of the day, Wen Yan could finally get off work.
She took off her white coat, changed into her own black cashmere overcoat, wrapped her scarf tighter, and pushed open the hospital’s heavy glass doors.
The winter night air hit her full in the face at once, cold enough to make the tip of her nose ache.
She hunched her shoulders, tucked her chilled, slightly reddened hands into her coat pockets, and hurried toward the shared e-bike parking area beside the subway entrance.
Scan, unlock, get on.
The bike’s built-in windproof gloves were bulky and awkward, but at least they blocked out the biting wind.
She twisted the throttle, and the small electric bike silently slipped into the stream of traffic beneath the night.
Neon lights blurred into hazy pools in the damp, cold air as they flashed across her expressionless profile.
In just over ten minutes, she was home.
The elevator went straight to the residential floor. With a soft ding, the heavy double doors of dark walnut wood slid open automatically.
The motion-sensor light in the foyer switched on at once; warm yellow light spread across the space. Wen Yan kicked off her ankle boots, stepped barefoot onto the warm oak floor, and the cold in her feet was instantly swallowed by the underfloor heating.
She didn’t turn on the main lights. Using only the foyer lamp and the faint city glow seeping in from the floor-to-ceiling windows in the distance, she walked straight through the living room, which was so spacious it felt almost lonely, and headed to the exercise area set apart on the west side.
She changed into a tight sports tank and shorts, then put on her boxing gloves.
Thud. Thud. Thud—
The dull, rhythmic impacts echoed through the empty room, accompanied by the short, restrained breaths that escaped her throat whenever she put force into a punch.
The punching bag swayed violently; the hanging chain creaked in protest.
Sweat quickly soaked through her tank top, and strands of fringe clung to her smooth forehead.
This one hour was the happiest time of her day.
An hour later, she stopped, drenched in sweat, her chest rising and falling hard.
After a moment to catch her breath, she took off the gloves and headed to the master bedroom bathroom.
Hot water washed away her fatigue and sweat. She changed into soft gray cotton loungewear, roughly towel-dried her half-wet hair, and went into the kitchen.
In the open kitchen, only a delicate Italian pendant light above the island was turned on, its warm glow enclosing the cooking area.
She took a frozen steak from the built-in fridge and put it in the microwave to thaw.
Then she took out a bag of frozen mixed vegetables, poured them into a small milk pot with a little water, and set it on the induction cooker to bubble away.
Once the steak was seared and the vegetables had softened, she carried the plate to a high stool by the island, picked up her knife and fork, and then reached for her phone.
The screen lit up, revealing a bright red number on the top right corner of WeChat.
She was quiet by nature and disliked being disturbed, so long ago she had set everyone’s messages to “Do Not Disturb” except Jin Zijin’s.
At this moment, when she clicked in, unread messages were piled up like a mountain.
At the top was Wang Manyu’s chat window, which had accumulated more than thirty messages in intermittent bursts since last night.
Wen Yan paused, then opened it.
The screen was full of long green voice-message bars.
She didn’t need to listen to know what they were about.
Nothing more than instructions on how she should “perform well” in the Jin family, how to “win Zijin’s heart,” and how to “give the Jin family an heir as soon as possible.”
Interspersed with that were worries and complaints about her brother Wen Chen’s current situation, as well as repeated amazement at and reminders about the Jin family’s background.
Wen Yan looked at it expressionlessly for two seconds, then slid her finger up and exited.
She didn’t open a single one.
She didn’t want to hear any of it.
Scrolling down, she found a message from her cousin Wang Chenyu: “Yan Yan, don’t take what happened yesterday to heart. Auntie just has that kind of temper; she means well. Uncle’s words were also unintentional. They’re all doing this for your own good. Seeing how well you and Zijin get along makes us all very relieved. Be happy forever.[rose]”
Wen Yan curled the corner of her mouth.
Wang Chenyu was always like this: considerate in her wording, gentle in manner, like the most reasonable older sister in the world.
If you didn’t know how, back then, she had comforted her heartbroken best friend while quietly and without a trace “taking over” that friend’s wealthy boyfriend, anyone would think she was a high-minded, helpful person.
Hypocritical to perfection; sanctimonious beyond reproach.
Wen Yan didn’t even feel like replying and exited again.
Just as she put down her phone and was preparing to deal seriously with the steak on the plate, which was already starting to cool—
Ding dong.
The doorbell rang crisply, startlingly abrupt in the overquiet space.
Wen Yan paused and frowned.
This was a two-units-to-one-floor building; without an appointment, the property manager would never come up.
Her parents?
They had access cards, but they usually called before coming over.
She didn’t move.
Ding dong—ding dong—
The doorbell rang twice more, this time stubbornly, with a certain persistence.
Wen Yan put down her knife and fork and got up, walking to the foyer.
The LCD screen on the wall was lit, and the high-definition camera clearly displayed the scene outside.
The instant Wen Yan saw who it was, her pupils trembled.
It was Jin Zijin.
She was wearing a cream-colored cashmere coat that fell to her calves, paired with a light gray knitted dress underneath, leaning lazily against the doorframe.
As if she knew there was a camera inside, she had slightly lifted her head, looking toward the lens.
The corridor light cast a soft glow over her face; there was a hint of a smile in those beautiful eyes, making her look especially enchanting.
Wen Yan froze.
Her mind went blank for a moment.
The next second, she practically scrambled to the door, forcefully turning the heavy brass handle.
With a click, the thick solid-wood door opened inward, and a little of the colder air from the winter corridor seeped in.
“Zijin?” Wen Yan’s voice was full of disbelief. “Why are you here?”
Jin Zijin looked at her slightly widened eyes and her somewhat messy hair; the corners of her lips lifted in a pleased curve. “Do I need a reason to come home?”
Wen Yan: “...”
It felt as if something had lightly bumped against her heart, leaving it soft and sore.
She couldn’t quite name what emotion surged up in that instant.
Surprise?
Touched?
Or some suddenly filled-in sense of belonging?
She didn’t even have time to think before her body moved first; she stepped forward and wrapped both arms tightly around the woman outside.
She had, in fact, missed her all day.
Wen Yan buried her face in Jin Zijin’s neck, her emotions surging.
Jin Zijin let out a low laugh, raised a hand to hug her back, and patted her on the back. “Aren’t you going to let me in? It’s cold outside.”
Only then did Wen Yan come to herself. She loosened her hold, took Jin Zijin’s hand, and led her into the warm interior.
Bang.
The door shut behind them, sealing the cold away completely.
Under the warm yellow light in the foyer, Jin Zijin lowered her head and looked at the spotless floor. “Do you have slippers?”
“Ah.” Wen Yan only then remembered. “I... don’t have spare slippers here.”
She was a little embarrassed. “I only have two pairs, and they’re both mine. If you don’t mind, you can wear mine.”
Jin Zijin lifted her eyes, her gaze sweeping across the spacious, silent foyer and living room. “You usually don’t bring friends home?”
“Mm.” Wen Yan nodded, her tone ordinary. “I don’t have many friends, and... most of them aren’t in the country.”
Her life was simple to the point of being pitiful: hospital, lab, gym, home, and the occasional academic conference.
For her, socializing consumed more energy than it gave back.
Jin Zijin understood.
The realization that her wife was a solitary person became even clearer.
Jin Zijin was very satisfied, and her voice softened considerably. “Then I’ll wear yours.”
Wen Yan immediately took out her own clean spare slippers from the shoe cabinet and placed them in front of Jin Zijin.
Then, very naturally, she crouched down and reached out to hold Jin Zijin’s ankle, still wrapped in an elegant leather ankle boot.
Jin Zijin paused slightly and looked down at the woman crouched at her feet.
Wen Yan had her head lowered; her thick lashes cast a small shadow beneath her eyes. Her expression was focused as she gently undid the boot buckle, slipped off the boot, and then helped her into the pair of slippers that belonged to her.
She did it all so smoothly, as if she’d practiced it countless times.
While Wen Yan was lowering her head to put shoes on her, Jin Zijin’s gaze fell on the brown enamel watch on her left wrist.
It sat there neatly; the watch face carried a warm, understated sheen under the light.
Jin Zijin became even more satisfied.
Once both feet were in the slippers, Wen Yan stood up, clapped her hands lightly, and looked at Jin Zijin with bright eyes. “Welcome home.”
Something in Jin Zijin’s heart seemed to be lightly brushed by a feather.
She took a step forward, raised a hand to wrap around Wen Yan’s waist, and pulled her toward herself; with the other hand, she reached for the wrist wearing the watch, her fingertips gently stroking the case.
“So obedient,” she said, looking up at Wen Yan, her eyes shimmering. “You’ve been wearing it all along.”
Her thumb brushed over the back of Wen Yan’s hand, her tone like she was praising a well-behaved large dog. “So good.”
The roots of Wen Yan’s ears warmed, but she said nothing, letting her hold her.
Jin Zijin’s hand slid from her wrist to her earlobe, pinching it lightly, her voice lowered and coaxing: “Aren’t you going to kiss me?”
Wen Yan answered honestly, “I just ate. I haven’t brushed my teeth yet.”
“Oh.” Jin Zijin seemed to understand, and then her eyes curved again. “I haven’t had dinner yet either; perfect, let me taste the flavor.”
Before the words had even fallen, she rose onto her toes and kissed her.
The kiss began with a trace of coolness from the winter journey, but it quickly melted under Wen Yan’s gentle yet firm response.
Between their lips and teeth there was the faint taste of black pepper and steak sauce, mixed with the crisp citrus finish on Jin Zijin’s body, weaving into a reassuring intimacy.
After a long while, Jin Zijin pulled back slightly, her breathing a little uneven.
She lifted a hand and threaded her fingers through Wen Yan’s half-dry, fluffy hair; the touch was soft, carrying a faint peach scent from the bathroom fragrance.
“You showered?” she asked softly.
“Mm, just finished exercising.” Wen Yan took her hand and led her inside. “I was eating. Are you hungry? Did you eat something on the way over?”
“A little wax apple.”
Jin Zijin let her lead her, her gaze taking in this overly spacious home that nevertheless reflected its owner’s understated taste everywhere.
Minimalist lines, high-end materials, and a cool sense of distance.
Just like Wen Yan herself; warm at the core, but aloof on the outside.
“No wonder you’re so sweet,” Wen Yan muttered under her breath, then asked, “Do you want me to make you something else to eat?”
“There’s still rice, noodles, and vermicelli in the fridge; there’s steak too..."
“Then make me noodles,” Jin Zijin said. She really was a bit hungry.
“Tomato and egg noodles okay?” Wen Yan asked almost without thinking; she remembered that Jin Zijin preferred sweet-and-sour flavors.
Jin Zijin looked at her in some surprise, then smiled. “Okay.”
The two of them went to the open kitchen.
Under the warm yellow pendant light, Wen Yan tied on her apron again, opened the fridge, and took out tomatoes and eggs.
Jin Zijin didn’t go to the sofa; instead, she followed her in and gently wrapped her arms around her waist from behind, resting her cheek against Wen Yan’s warm back.
Wen Yan was peeling tomatoes. She paused, turning her head slightly. “What is it?”
“Clinging to you,” Jin Zijin said, her voice muffled against her back, completely matter-of-fact. “I missed you all day, so when I got back, I wanted to cling to you right away. Can’t I?”
Wen Yan only felt a rush of heat surge from her neck straight up to her ears; her heart was beating a little fast.
She gave a low “Mm.” “You can.”
So, under the entanglement of this human pendant, she stumbled a little yet still methodically completed washing, cutting, stir-frying, and boiling.
Jin Zijin just held her quietly, occasionally rubbing her face lightly against Wen Yan’s back, or stealing a kiss at the side of her neck.
Once the noodles were done, they were topped simply with tomato-and-egg sauce; the colors were vivid, and steam rose warmly.
Neither of them went to the dining room. They stood shoulder to shoulder by the island and finished eating there.
Neither said a word; only the faint sounds of eating and the soft clink of bowls and chopsticks filled the room, yet the atmosphere was so warm it was almost unreal.
After they finished, Wen Yan gathered the dishes and went to wash them.
Only then did Jin Zijin let her go. With her hands behind her back, she strolled slowly around the house.
She opened the glass door of the gym and saw the professional-grade climbing wall and the punching bag still swaying faintly.
“You like climbing?” she called toward the kitchen.
“Mm.” Wen Yan’s voice came through with the sound of running water.
“No wonder you’ve got so much strength,” Jin Zijin muttered, the corners of her mouth lifting.
She wandered around the first floor some more, looked at the floor-to-ceiling bookshelf in the study and the densely packed professional books inside, glanced at the almost bare guest room, then returned to the living room and sat down on the huge Minotti sofa.
Through the floor-to-ceiling windows covering the entire wall, the brilliant lights of most of the city were fully visible; in the distance, the Pearl Tower looked like a glowing gem set into the night sky.
Bustling, yet distant.
This house really was nice.
It seemed Wen Yan’s parents had at least not shortchanged her materially.
While she was lost in thought, footsteps approached.
Wen Yan had finished washing the dishes and came over wiping her hands.
Her face, freshly washed, still held a faint blush from the steam; her home clothes of soft cotton wrapped around her tall, straight figure.
Wen Yan asked softly, “Are you tired? Do you want to shower first?”
At the sound of her voice, Jin Zijin turned her head and looked at her.
Warm yellow light outlined Wen Yan’s clear jawline and long neck; in those eyes that were always calm, there was now a tenderness that shone only for her.
Jin Zijin didn’t say anything; she just crooked a finger at her.
Wen Yan obediently walked closer and stopped in front of her, then bent slightly. “Mm?”
The next second, Jin Zijin lifted a hand to hook around her neck and used a little force to pull her down.
Her warm lips were almost pressed against Wen Yan’s ear; the woman’s breath was fragrant and her voice lowered to something soft and teasing: “Do it first, okay?”