Chapter 29

Wen Yan was silent for a long time.

The wind at the top of the slope came like icy blades, cutting across her cheeks and stripping the last bit of warmth from her skin.

The snow-bright gleam on the distant peak was blinding, reflected in her eyes like the stillness of a frozen pool.

Jin Zijin’s words—“I’ve already forced you once”—hung in the air. Each one carried weight, pressing heavily into the thin space between them.

Below them, Wu Yun shifted uneasily, taking a few restless steps; the reins tightened in Wen Yan’s hand for a moment.

At last she lifted her eyes and looked at Jin Zijin.

There was no shock, no accusation, only a kind of calm that was almost as deep as the ocean.

“What you call ‘forcing’,” Wen Yan said, her voice scattered by the wind but every word still clear, “has another name where I’m concerned.”

She paused, searching for the most accurate wording.

“Choice.”

She looked at Jin Zijin’s slightly dazed expression; her tone was even, as if she were reading from a chart note.

“Marriage is a choice. Everything that happened after that is too.”

“Every decision I made was made with a clear head.”

“So,” she said at last, her gaze honest to the point of bluntness, “there’s no need to use the word ‘forced.’ At least, not the way I understand it.”

Jin Zijin looked at her, and it felt as though something had caught in her throat.

The iceberg in her heart, the one named guilt, cracked softly under Wen Yan’s quiet gaze.

Warmth rose and loosened something inside her.

But at the same time, a deeper, more complicated truth surfaced with it.

The beginning of this marriage had never been clean.

——————

Before she met Wen Yan, Jin Zijin had never left any room in her life plan for marriage or romance.

Her ambition and energy were like a blazing laser, aimed at a larger map.

Reforming an industry, influencing an era, leaving behind a force that would bear the name Jin Zijin through history.

Private feelings?

Intimate ties?

Those were enemies of efficiency; they wasted energy for nothing.

Until a year ago, when her body, pushed beyond its limits for too long, finally sounded the alarm.

A severe bout of myocarditis landed her in intensive care.

When the news reached her grandmother, Jin Shuangye, the shock made the old woman fall down the stairs; she was hospitalized as well.

Grandmother and granddaughter were both trapped within the white walls of the hospital.

Some dormant collateral relatives caught the scent of opportunity and began to stir.

Lying in her hospital bed, Jin Shuangye looked at her granddaughter’s gaunt but still stubborn face and, for the first time, felt a fear that cut to the bone.

Time and illness were ruthless sculptors; they could easily reshape the form a person had trusted for years.

The old woman, who once thought marriage was merely a worldly shackle and children only a matter of fate, had her ironclad convictions crack under one blow after another.

She began to stubbornly believe that Jin Zijin needed a legally recognized, proper partner.

And perhaps even a child carrying the Jin family bloodline.

“As for children, technology can handle that,” Jin Zijin tried to reassure her beside the bed, her tone gentle and persuasive. “An artificial womb, top-tier genetic screening; with a few million, we can have the healthiest, most outstanding heir.”

“Grandma, those things are easy for us.”

Jin Shuangye gripped her hand, worry impossible to hide in her voice. “Then what about companionship? After I’m gone, who will hand you a cup of hot water when you’re tired?”

“Who, when you run into trouble, can stand beside you with full legitimacy—not for the identity of President Jin, but for you, Jin Zijin as a person?”

The old woman’s voice was aged and stubborn; she refused to give in. “You still need to marry someone reliable. Not just to silence those people, but for yourself.”

Jin Zijin fell silent.

She understood her grandmother’s concern, and she also knew that under the traditional framework of Eastern society, a marriage certificate was sometimes the simplest defense and reassurance.

So she compromised, but set harsh conditions.

Finding the right “marriage partner” became a special kind of recruitment.

Jin Zijin’s requirements were written with cold clarity.

First, a prenuptial agreement; upon divorce, beyond a fixed cash compensation and a small amount of real estate, the other party would not be allowed to touch any core Jin family assets.

Second, in essence, they would be marrying into the family; any future children, regardless of how they were conceived, had to carry the Jin surname.

Even so, applicants still came flocking.

The sons and daughters of high society were willing to give up their own inheritance rights just to climb aboard the Jin family’s giant ship.

In the end, Jin Shuangye picked and rejected for half a year without finding anyone satisfactory.

After all, what they wanted was not an ambitious schemer hoping to use the Jin family as a springboard, nor an obsequious puppet.

She wanted someone “safe.”

Proper in character, clean in background, with no great ambition, someone who could take good care of Jin Zijin’s life.

Jin Zijin let her grandmother choose as she pleased and dealt with it perfunctorily.

Anyway, once the old lady got past this burst of enthusiasm, she would probably come to her senses and give up.

In modern civilized society, the cost-benefit ratio of marriage was truly low.

Until the Wang family came knocking with their “chip.”

At that time, the real estate project the Wang family was running with the Wen family had hit a dead end with its capital chain broken; bankruptcy was looming.

When they heard that the Jin family was looking for a son-in-law, Old Master Wang seized the chance like a lifeline and, without hesitation, “packaged up” his pair of grandchildren and pushed them forward.

The Wen siblings, Wen Chen and Wen Yan.

The elder brother, Wen Chen, was a professor at Geology University, constantly traveling through barren wildlands; he was excellent academically, but rather detached when it came to human relations.

The younger sister, Wen Yan, was a top orthopedic surgeon; her life was filled with operating rooms and shadowless lamps, and her romantic experience was a blank slate.

Jin Shuangye had asked people to investigate them in detail, and the feedback left her unusually satisfied: clean family background, spotless résumé, outstanding ability, steady and capable, proper in conduct.

They were the closest to the standard of a “decent family” person that she had seen in the past half year.

It was just that their work was too busy; they would have no time to take care of Jin Zijin.

But that wasn’t a problem. After marriage, the other party could quit work and slowly settle down at home beside Jin Zijin.

Jin Shuangye was very pleased and urged Jin Zijin to meet the siblings.

After much coaxing and persuasion, Jin Zijin finally agreed to go and see them.

——————

That banquet was held at a private club under the Wang family’s name, with the atmosphere deliberately arranged to feel warm and intimate.

Jin Zijin arrived a little late.

When she pushed the door open and walked in, she was still carrying the biting chill from outside, along with the sternness and fatigue that had not yet fully faded after leaving the business world behind.

She wore a sharply tailored dark gray suit; it made her features look even more defined and cold, out of place amid the room’s soft lighting and delicate dishes.

Her gaze swept the room by habit.

Then it stopped, her pupils contracting slightly.

At the side of the banquet, near the floor-to-ceiling window, sat a woman.

It was Wen Yan.

She wore a simple champagne-colored satin gown, modest in cut, but the fabric’s sheen gave it a restrained luxury.

Her long hair was pinned into a bun at the back of her head, revealing the full, graceful line of her back.

There was a thin, even layer of muscle over it, clean and flowing in contour; whenever she leaned slightly toward the person beside her to speak in a low voice, it showed a wild, vibrant tension full of life.

Like a leopard lying in wait in the woods; elegant, yet holding primitive strength beneath the surface.

Jin Zijin’s breathing, at that instant, almost imperceptibly caught.

An unfamiliar rush of heat rose without warning from her chest and quickly climbed to her ears.

She had seen too many beautiful bodies, carefully sculpted ones or naturally perfect ones.

But none of them had ever stirred in her such a direct, physical attraction as the back before her.

It was a shiver that went beyond aesthetics and struck straight into instinct.

She sat down without showing it, taking the seat at the head beside her grandmother.

Throughout the entire banquet, she maintained impeccable social grace, talking with Old Master Wang and Wen Yan’s parents, answering her grandmother’s concerned questions.

But her peripheral vision, her attention, kept drifting uncontrollably toward that silent profile.

Wen Yan was mostly quiet.

She only lifted her eyes once when the “President Jin” entered, giving a faint, indifferent glance, her expression as still as if she were looking at some irrelevant piece of furniture.

After that, she often turned her head to gaze at the city nightscape outside the window, her eyes distant, as if thinking about something no one else could know.

Long lashes cast tiny fan-shaped shadows beneath her eyes, trembling now and then.

Like feathers brushing carelessly across Jin Zijin’s hidden heart, bringing with them a faint, persistent itch and fluster.

Too beautiful.

Just sitting there, just breathing, and Jin Zijin’s cheeks were already burning.

Had the Wang family’s drinks and food been laced with something?

Why was she so dazed?

Jin Zijin felt her mind was not clear; she turned her head to glance at Wen Chen, who was talking with her grandmother...

The twins actually looked about seventy percent alike, but compared to Wen Chen’s softer features, the distance in Wen Yan’s brows and eyes made her even more alluring.

It wasn’t about the face at all!

Then was it gender?

Oh my God; Jin Zijin, do you actually like women?

Then why, in the past, when you soaked in hot springs with your friends and saw their naked bodies, had you felt absolutely nothing?

But Wen Yan, just sitting upright at the table, had all of Jin Zijin’s attention fixed on the image of her unclothed body.

Jin Zijin felt she must have been working herself to death.

By the time the meal was over, she had drunk several cups of water.

Unfortunately, while her heart was in disarray, the person across from her never once let her gaze settle on her.

She was not interested in her.

That realization, after a brief moment of disappointment, strangely made Jin Zijin breathe easier; then a stronger surge of excitement followed.

That was normal. Surely she was allowed to be rejected by someone.

Besides, things that were too easy to get were often boring.

Compared with Wen Yan’s taciturnity, her brother Wen Chen was much more adept at handling things.

He was witty and talkative, able to answer all of Grandma’s questions with ease; combined with the Wang family’s and Wen parents’ tireless praise and promotion, the satisfaction in Jin Shuangye’s eyes grew thicker and thicker.

On the way home, Jin Shuangye held her granddaughter’s hand. “Xiaojin, what do you think of that child Wen Chen?”

“From what I can tell, he really is good; steady, educated, and decent-looking too.”

Jin Zijin lowered her eyelashes, hiding the complicated thoughts in her eyes, and only said, “I’ll think about it a little longer.”

The next day, Jin Zijin arranged to meet Wen Chen privately.

In a private room at a coffee shop with excellent privacy, Jin Zijin got straight to the point and laid out her original idea: a contract marriage lasting several years, no interference in each other’s lives, only playing an affectionate couple in front of Grandma.

Once Grandma was at ease, or had forgotten about it, they would divorce peacefully.

As compensation, the Jin family would inject a large sum of money into the Wen family, enough to solve their crisis.

She presented it calmly and objectively, like she was discussing a business deal.

Wen Chen listened and did not answer immediately.

He pushed up the gold-rimmed glasses on the bridge of his nose; the eyes behind the lenses were sharp and clear. Then he suddenly smiled and exposed her intentions with a direct stab: “President Jin, the one you really have your eye on is my younger sister, isn’t it?”

Jin Zijin’s hand holding the coffee cup paused almost imperceptibly.

She neither admitted nor denied it; she simply raised her eyes and looked at him calmly, asking in return, “So?”

Wen Chen’s smile deepened a little, but there was no mockery in it, only a cold clarity born of seeing too much of the world. “Our family does need your money right now. That’s the reality.”

“Since my sister agreed to attend last night’s dinner, it means she isn’t entirely cut off from the family. She was already on the list for marriage arrangements; why don’t you go talk to her directly?”

Jin Zijin was silent.

Wen Chen answered for her, his tone mild but every word drawing blood: “Because you don’t even have a ten percent chance with her, right?”

“You can tell she has complicated feelings about our family, but you can also tell she has no interest in you—or rather, in the identity of ‘Mrs. Jin.’”

Jin Zijin set down her cup; porcelain struck the saucer with a crisp sound.

There was no expression on her face, only a colder tone. “That is none of your business.”

“Of course it’s my business.” Wen Chen leaned back in his chair, relaxed in posture, but his eyes were sharp to the point of ruthlessness. “President Jin, I’m a selfish person.”

“My parents raised me at great cost; I can’t just watch their later years be crushed by debt. But I also don’t want to use my lifetime of freedom and marriage to fill that hole.”

“Not for a lifetime; only temporarily,” Jin Zijin corrected.

“Temporary doesn’t work either.” Wen Chen shook his head. “I don’t want to be bound by any marriage, and I certainly won’t accept some so-called artificially conceived child together.”

“My dream is to carry my survey pack and travel the world, with no ties holding me back.”

He looked at Jin Zijin’s slightly furrowed brows and suddenly changed direction, his tone becoming strangely casual: “So, isn’t it more in everyone’s interest if you ‘buy’ my sister instead?”

Jin Zijin’s gaze instantly sharpened like an ice pick.

Wen Chen seemed not to notice and continued in that clinical, specimen-dissection sort of voice: “At the very least, following you would mean a qualitative leap in her material life.”

“You saw it too; our family favors sons over daughters. Last night my parents practically ignored her.”

“Girls who grow up in this kind of environment are often tougher, more practical, and easier to control.”

“Even if the two of you really don’t get along, the risk is relatively manageable. After all...” He paused, then deliberately let his gaze slide over Jin Zijin through the lenses. “She can’t get you pregnant, can she?”

“There’s one less complication to divorce over.”

Hearing him use a face that shared some resemblance with Wen Yan to spit out such cold-blooded calculations, Jin Zijin’s fingers tightened around the cup handle; her knuckles turned white.

A powerful wave of disgust and impulse surged up.

If it weren’t for her upbringing, she truly would have wanted to throw the scalding coffee in her hand straight at his face.

In the end, though, she only drew in a deep breath and used all her self-control to suppress every emotion.

Her manners prevented her from doing something like that; besides, although Wen Chen’s words were harsh, from another angle they laid bare, in bloody detail, the pros and cons she herself did not want to examine too closely.

She rose coldly to her feet and looked down at Wen Chen. “Grandma has already made her choice. Be prepared.”

“And my relationship with you ends here. There will be no further development.”

She turned and left, her back decisive.

And yet this meeting was like a stone thrown into deep water; the ripples it created lingered for a long time.

In the days that followed, whenever she had a free moment amid her busy schedule, Jin Zijin would find herself thinking uncontrollably of that silent profile at the banquet, that beautifully drawn back, that quiet expression with its lowered lashes.

She was flustered and unsettled.

She really had been bewitched.

Were the Wen family from Miao territory?

How were they so good at bewitching people?

Wen Chen was right.

Since it was all a transaction, a big performance for Grandma’s sake, why shouldn’t she choose someone she at least found pleasing to the eye?

Even someone who could make her heart race.

The feeling was truly novel, and addictive.

She couldn’t wait to keep enjoying it, to see how long this uncontrollable sensation would last.

So she tacitly accepted her grandmother’s wishes, but quietly changed the object of the match from Wen Chen to Wen Yan.

——————

The second time was a small engagement banquet held privately by the two families; the atmosphere was even more intimate than before.

This time, Jin Zijin deliberately changed out of her sharp suit.

She chose an improved version of a Ming-style hanfu, moon-white jacquard satin, with her long hair pinned up by a simple jade hairpin. Her makeup was light, and she intentionally softened the sharpness of her business-world bearing, letting out a classical, gentle scholarly air.

She knew she was taking a gamble; she was betting that in the gaze Wen Yan had cast out the window that night, there might have been some unrecognized preference hidden within.

She won the gamble.

All evening, she could clearly feel that the gaze that had once always drifted away landed on her several times.

Though still restrained and brief, the surprise within it, and a flicker of something that might perhaps be called appreciation, did not escape Jin Zijin’s sharp perception.

It wasn’t that she lacked appeal; it was simply that the right approach hadn’t been used.

That discovery, like a spark, ignited something in Jin Zijin’s dormant, stubborn desire to conquer.

Since there was even a trace of fondness—no matter if it was only for this shell—then she had two points of confidence... enough to weave a net and make this person step into it willingly.

The next day, she met Wen Chen again.

This time, her attitude was completely different.

No detours, no probing; only one word: “Get lost.”

Wen Chen looked at the unmistakable resolve in her eyes, froze for a moment, then understood. In fact, he even laughed in relief.

He asked nothing more, simply nodded briskly. “All right.”

The day before the wedding, Wen Chen took the new funding for his research expedition and promptly vanished to the other side of the earth.

Outside the business arena, Jin Zijin seldom bothered to scheme against anyone.

Wen Yan was the only exception.

From the moment she saw that back, some fierce and unfamiliar possessive urge began growing wildly in her heart.

She knew exactly what role she was playing in this marriage.

A carefully laid hunter, using the other party’s family predicament, using Grandma’s hopes, even deliberately creating an image the other party might like.

Step by step, with calm precision, she “invited” Wen Yan into this game called marriage.

Not by going with the flow.

By insisting on it.

She insisted that this person, body and heart alike, belong completely and wholly to Jin Zijin.

——————

The tide of memory slowly receded; on the ridge, the real wind remained cold.

Jin Zijin looked at Wen Yan’s calm face before her, and all the calculations, all the arrangements she had never spoken aloud, and even that original, instinct-driven insistence all became heavier blocks in her chest.

What she had called “forcing” was far more than the form of marriage; it was the painstaking plotting and unquestionable, dominant beginning behind it.

If one day Wen Yan learned the truth, how would she see her then?

Jin Zijin didn’t know.

But she did not regret it.

To obtain her own happiness, she was willing to use every means at her disposal.

Because people were selfish; she was no exception.

Wen Yan looked at the complicated emotions churning in her eyes, gently tugged the reins, and drew Wu Yun a little closer to Xingchen.

“It’s getting windy; we should head back,” she said lightly, then smiled at Wen Yan.

Jin Zijin gazed at the smile on her face; after a long moment, she smiled too. “All right.”

“Let’s go back.”

Forget it; none of it mattered anymore.

Those things in the past—who could say what they really were?

What mattered, after all, was the present and the future.

As long as they always stayed this close, even if the beginning had been wrong, the ending would still be good, right?

————————

Jin Zijin: I want it; I get it [ohohoho]

So what if I schemed? Whether it was a moment of impulse or something else, I’d get it first.

She really was very overbearing; she’d wanted Wen Yan to wear a dress before, but had held back.

She’d been restraining her CEO instincts all along [ohohoho]

Because she wanted Wen Yan to belong to her completely.