Chapter 3

Jin Zijin’s kiss was all aggression, leaving no room for argument.

It was nothing like the polite, fleeting touch from the wedding, nor the teasing brush of her breath against Wen Yan’s ear a moment ago.

This kiss was domineering to the extreme, almost brazen in its force, prying open Wen Yan’s slightly parted lips before she could even recover from her shock.

“Mm……”

Wen Yan’s mind completely short-circuited.

All her thoughts, all her reason, shattered in an instant under the scorching sensation on her lips and the clean, overwhelming scent that crashed over her.

Her whole body stiffened; she could only endure the kiss passively, so intense it was almost punishing.

Jin Zijin’s tongue probed with a hint of caution, then grew urgent, as if she were confirming something or staking a claim.

Oxygen grew thin. Wen Yan felt like she was about to suffocate; a faint sting spread through her lungs.

Instinctively, she tried to lean back and find a little space to breathe.

But Jin Zijin seemed to see through her intention. A hand slipped behind her head at some point, slender yet strong fingers threading into her half-dried hair and pinning her in place before she could escape.

That faintly restrictive gesture, oddly enough, stirred something buried deep in Wen Yan.

The desire to control an entire surgery on her own suddenly flared to life, unexpectedly provoked by this overwhelmingly forceful kiss.

Retreat?

No.

Wen Yan began to respond clumsily.

At first it was only a tentative test, the tip of her tongue touching carefully.

But soon the unfamiliar, intense surge of sensation made her lose herself.

She started to mimic Jin Zijin’s way, trying to push back, trying to reclaim even a sliver of initiative.

Feeling her response, Jin Zijin’s movement paused slightly; then the kiss deepened, becoming even more lingering, even more... entangling.

The hand resting at the back of Wen Yan’s head loosened a little, the fingertips unconsciously kneading the ends of her hair, sending waves of prickling itch across her scalp.

No one knew how much time passed. Just as Wen Yan felt she might really faint from lack of oxygen, Jin Zijin finally let her go.

Their foreheads remained pressed together as both of them panted.

Wen Yan’s face was so red it looked ready to bleed; her eyes were wet, hazy with an unprecedented daze.

Jin Zijin’s cheeks were flushed too. Those usually cool, clear eyes were now glossy with moisture, lending her an added, alluring softness.

“Looks like...” Jin Zijin’s breathing was a little unsteady; her voice was rougher than usual, laced with amusement. “Dr. Wen learns very quickly.”

Wen Yan was too embarrassed to speak. Her heart was still pounding wildly; it felt as if all the blood in her body had rushed to her head and to her lips, which had just been kissed so fiercely.

Seeing her like that, the smile in Jin Zijin’s eyes deepened.

She released the hand around the back of Wen Yan’s head, but her fingertips slid down her cheek, then to her jaw, then her neck, and finally stopped at the first button of her loungewear.

That cool touch landed on the sensitive skin at her throat, and Wen Yan trembled hard, as if struck by a current.

Jin Zijin hooked a finger around the first button and leaned in close, her warm breath brushing Wen Yan’s lips. “Continue?”

Wen Yan looked up at her and nodded.

Jin Zijin gave a soft laugh, cupped her face with her other hand, and covered her lips again.

This kiss was completely different from the storm before.

At first she gently bit Wen Yan’s lower lip, drawing out a fine, thrilling shiver, then shifted into a tender but unyielding suckle.

The instant their lips and teeth met, Wen Yan only felt a current tear down her spine, making her whole body tremble and the last thread of reason snap.

Almost by instinct, she lifted her hand, wrapping it around Jin Zijin’s slender, supple waist and pulling her deeper into her arms.

Jin Zijin let herself tilt forward. Her long black hair poured down like a waterfall, draping over Wen Yan’s face.

With every small, intimate kiss, the ends of that hair brushed Wen Yan’s cheeks and neck, bringing wave after wave of tingling itch.

Her mouth and nose were full of that clean citrus-and-cold-pine fragrance on Jin Zijin’s body; now, warmed by body heat, it seemed richer, more intoxicating, making Wen Yan dizzy.

She felt as though she had fallen into a damp, dreamlike trance; her limbs grew weak, yet her chest ached from being so full.

An unfamiliar, intense emptiness cried out inside her body, craving to be filled, driving her to conquer, to possess.

The reason she’d always been proud of was retreating step by step, utterly overtaken by the body’s most primal desire.

Wen Yan, somehow learning without being taught, slid a hand over Jin Zijin’s waistline; her palm felt the warmth and rise of skin beneath silk as her hand moved upward.

In the end she used one hand to control the back of Jin Zijin’s neck, exerting firm, unarguable force that made her lower her head; then she took the lead and deepened the kiss.

“Mm……”

A suppressed, breathy moan slipped from Jin Zijin’s throat and into the night, clearly reaching Wen Yan’s ears.

It was like a spark dropping into dry grass; Wen Yan was ignited all at once.

Hot. Unbearably hot.

Her entire body tingled and throbbed, crying out for more cool relief.

And the woman in her arms had bones like jade and icy skin, yet the lips she offered were warm and moist.

Wen Yan held her waist tightly and tilted her head back, greedily taking in her breath.

The world spun; she closed her eyes and let the woman’s hair wind around her senses, sinking into the increasingly rich fragrance. Every inch of her skin seemed to itch, and her heartbeat was frighteningly out of control.

Her movements grew more reckless, with hurried but determined exploration. She lifted the obstructing silk skirt.

Just as she intended to go further, Jin Zijin suddenly raised a hand and pressed her palm against Wen Yan’s shoulder.

Wen Yan’s movement stilled. She opened her eyes dazedly and looked down at the woman beneath her.

The dim light outlined Jin Zijin’s slightly flushed profile. Half-reclining against the headboard, her eyes were bright with moisture, her breathing a little uneven. “Wait...”

Wen Yan didn’t understand; her eyes still held unspent desire.

Jin Zijin turned her face away. Her long lashes trembled as she spoke in a voice barely above a whisper: “We didn’t prepare anything at home...” She paused, then clearly said two words. “Protection.”

Wen Yan’s face instantly went scarlet, heat rushing all the way to the tips of her ears.

She stumbled over her words. “Th-then what do we do?”

“W-we can next time...”

Continue?

Wen Yan, with no experience at all, instinctively took that as a refusal. Her hand on Jin Zijin’s waist was about to withdraw.

But Jin Zijin suddenly reached out and seized her wrist.

The next second, Wen Yan was dragged forward and plunged into an unexpected tropical rainforest.

Her eyes flew wide open in disbelief as she looked at Jin Zijin.

Under Wen Yan’s shocked gaze, Jin Zijin leaned in and took her earlobe between soft lips.

Warm, wet breath filled her ear; the woman’s voice carried a bewitching command: “No need to wait until next time. Right now...”

“Pleasure me.”

Wen Yan’s mind went blank in a flash.

She took a deep breath and, driven by instinct, gently reached out to stroke.

——

At six in the morning, Wen Yan’s biological clock woke her on schedule.

Before her consciousness had fully returned, she first felt a heavy pressure on her chest.

She looked down. Jin Zijin was sprawled over her like a koala, cheek pressed against her heart, sleeping soundly.

Under the blanket, their skin was pressed together; the slick, cool touch was unmistakably clear, awakening all of last night’s chaotic, heated memories.

Wen Yan’s face burned instantly.

Even with her eyes closed, the woman’s misty gaze when aroused, her slightly parted red lips, and her helpless low moans were still vivid in her mind.

Her heart pounded wildly out of control. Silently reciting don’t look, don’t look, Wen Yan tried to gently push the person resting on top of her away.

But the moment she moved, the woman in her arms frowned in displeasure.

Wen Yan froze at once and held her breath, waiting.

After a while, Jin Zijin slowly opened her eyes and looked up at her lazily.

Their eyes met. Her gaze was still veiled in a layer of drowsy mist, languid and ambiguous.

Wen Yan forced out a somewhat stiff smile. “Hi, good morning...”

But Jin Zijin merely glanced at her once before closing her eyes again and burying her face back in Wen Yan’s neck. “Not doing it.”

Her voice was hoarse with newly awakened sleepiness. After speaking, she wrapped her arms and legs around Wen Yan even tighter, as if Wen Yan were her personal human pillow.

That matter-of-factness made Wen Yan immediately recall last night’s feeling of being “used,” and her mood turned subtle.

For Wen Yan, who swung a hammer every day and practiced Baji Fist, Jin Zijin’s weight was nothing.

It was just that being held so closely left her a little at a loss.

Besides, she didn’t have the habit of sleeping in, and she needed to get up for morning training.

After hesitating for a moment, Wen Yan still gently pushed at Jin Zijin’s shoulder. “Miss Jin... Miss Jin...”

After calling twice, Jin Zijin suddenly lifted her head. Her eyes had cleared somewhat, and she stared straight at Wen Yan with obvious displeasure.

Wen Yan froze, then immediately changed how she addressed her. “Zijin, I need to get up.”

Only then did Jin Zijin seem to wake fully. She looked at her in surprise. “Now? What time is it?”

She instinctively reached for the phone by the bed. Wen Yan took it and held it in front of her. “Just past six.”

The screen showed 06:02, prompting Jin Zijin to glance over. “You get up this early every day?”

Wen Yan nodded. “Mm.”

“It’s winter.” Jin Zijin’s tone was incredulous.

Wen Yan answered honestly, “I’m like this year-round.”

Jin Zijin stared at her for two seconds, said nothing else, then used her hands and feet to slide off her, dragged away most of the blanket, and turned over with her back to Wen Yan. “Go on, then.”

She was going back to sleep.

Wen Yan looked at the huge “blanket roll” beside her and suddenly remembered how, before running off from the marriage, her brother had complained that Jin Zijin was an “iceberg demon queen.”

What kind of iceberg demon queen slept like this, like some utterly unreasonable little caterpillar?

The contrast was really a bit... cute.

Wen Yan couldn’t help curving her lips, and a faint expectation quietly rose in her heart.

Maybe this rushed marriage wouldn’t be as hard to endure as she’d imagined.

At least, in some respects... they were exceptionally well matched.

She lightly patted the “blanket roll,” then carefully got out of bed.

To avoid disturbing Jin Zijin, she deliberately went to the guest bathroom to wash up.

As the temporary stand-in “groom,” she wasn’t yet familiar with the manor and couldn’t find her own clothes, so she had no choice but to put on yesterday’s suit.

After heading downstairs and stepping into the back garden, the cold winter wind hit her full in the face.

She stopped on the lawn and took up the opening stance of Baji Fist.

To establish a foothold in surgery, especially orthopedics, abundant physical strength was fundamental.

Ever since she had entered her master’s tutelage in university, she had kept up her morning training without fail, through heat and cold alike.

After two sets of forms, Wen Yan’s body had already warmed; fine sweat dotted her forehead, and a faint white mist rose around her.

The morning sun had just risen; daylight was breaking.

Wen Yan slowly settled her stance and let out a long breath.

“Clap, clap, clap——”

Suddenly, crisp applause sounded behind her.

Wen Yan turned and saw that Jin Zijin had gotten up at some point and was standing inside the glass door of the greenhouse.

She wore only a nightdress, with a loose wool coat over it, and watched Wen Yan with an easy, leisurely air.

A little embarrassed, Wen Yan walked over; the glass door slid open automatically.

“Why did you get up?” she asked.

Leaning against the doorframe with her arms folded, Jin Zijin replied lazily, “Couldn’t sleep, so I got up. Didn’t expect to see such an impressive performance.”

She reached out and straightened Wen Yan’s slightly disordered suit collar; her fingertips casually brushed the skin at Wen Yan’s neck as she said lightly, “Provincial martial arts champion? Truly worthy of the reputation.”

The woman’s slender fingers didn’t withdraw. Instead, they slid downward along the line of Wen Yan’s body, catching her belt and giving it a slight tug. “You’re strong all over.”

Wen Yan didn’t move when she was pulled like that. Instead, Jin Zijin staggered half a step forward and bumped straight into her arms.

Wen Yan quickly reached out to steady her.

Jin Zijin looked up, surprised.

Wen Yan supported her by the arm and eased back a little distance, then said shyly, “I’m sweaty.”

Seeing the red tips of her ears, Jin Zijin stepped closer and lowered her head to Wen Yan’s ear. Her warm breath brushed past. “It’s fine.”

Her voice carried a teasing smile as she whispered, “Besides... I tasted it last night.”

“I don’t dislike your smell.”

Wen Yan’s breath caught; her cheeks once again burned red at a startling speed.

TL Note:

“tropical rainforest” (热带雨林) = a euphemistic way of referring to female genitals.

Baji Fist (八极拳) = a Chinese martial art known for powerful close-range strikes.