Chapter 45
Wen Yan’s heart skipped a beat.
A deeper tremor surged through her, so intense it almost burst out of her chest.
She looked at Jin Zijin’s bright eyes so close to her own, at the unguarded anticipation, the testing caution, and the faintest trace of tension hidden within them.
After a moment, Wen Yan pressed her lips together, her throat moving lightly, and finally let out a single word: “Okay.”
Her voice was low and husky, yet perfectly clear; it carried the sense of complete surrender.
A smile immediately spread through Jin Zijin’s eyes, like spring ice breaking apart in ripples.
She lifted one finger, the pad of it pressing gently against Wen Yan’s lower lip with a faintly intimate force, tilting that full, moist lip open just a little to reveal the softer pink inside.
“Good girl,” she praised in a low voice, her tone pleased, almost like a reward.
Before the words had fully faded, her kiss came down again.
Soft and warm, like the first fine rain of early spring, it carried a clean, refreshing citrus scent that drifted in threads around Wen Yan, enveloping her gently.
Wen Yan was almost instantly caught by this entirely different rhythm.
She felt as if she were really standing somewhere in Jiangnan in the second or third month of the year, in a misty citrus grove washed in rain.
All she could see was blurred, damp greenery and white buds; the air was cool and brimming with life.
Everything was soaked through with moisture, indistinct and hazy.
Only that fresh, slightly tart citrus fragrance lingered, faint but stubborn, winding around her again and again.
It slipped into every breath she took and seeped into every inch of her skin.
She grew a little impatient, instinctively wanting more; wanting to push through that tender fog and see the face of the one in control.
She parted her teeth a little and, with a touch of pleading urgency, softly bit Jin Zijin’s lower lip.
But that tiny act of “rebellion” was suppressed at once.
Jin Zijin gave a muffled laugh and withdrew slightly. “Don’t move. Be good.”
Wen Yan immediately froze.
Seeing that, Jin Zijin’s smile deepened.
She soothed the place where Wen Yan had bitten her by lightly licking it with the tip of her tongue, then deepened the kiss again, dragging her back into that gentle, rain-washed embrace.
They parted only when both were a little breathless.
A strand of silver thread still connected their lips; Jin Zijin lifted a hand and gently wiped it away with the pad of her index finger.
Then she held that finger upright before Wen Yan’s slightly swollen lips, smiling as she chided her, “I said you were to listen to me completely... What, not obedient?”
Wen Yan’s eyes were still veiled in a mist of arousal, her gaze dazed as she looked at her, as if she still hadn’t fully awakened from that soft citrus rain.
Almost unconsciously, she stuck out the tip of her tongue to lick her dry lips; the absent gesture made Jin Zijin’s eyes darken.
She reached out and pushed Wen Yan’s shoulder again.
Wen Yan followed that force and fell back, as if dropping into a mass of soft, warm clouds.
Countless “petals” then came raining down.
Dense, scorching kisses trailed from her forehead, lashes, nose, and cheeks... spreading downward, carrying both devout exploration and playful teasing.
Her body felt electrified, tingly and numb; an unfamiliar pleasure spread like tiny waves from every point that was touched, gathering into a shuddering flood.
So this... was how Jin Zijin felt every time Wen Yan kissed her?
Wen Yan thought dazedly, her awareness drifting.
She had never imagined her own body could be this sensitive.
The senses she usually ignored or suppressed were now being awakened entirely by another person in such a gentle yet irresistible way.
Every inch of skin was singing, trembling.
Jin Zijin’s hand, burning hot, began to move slowly down along her waistline, its intention unmistakable.
Wen Yan almost reflexively grabbed that wrist at once.
She opened her eyes, the mist in them thinning with shock, and looked straight at the person on top of her.
Jin Zijin’s movement stilled. Looking at her expression, she suddenly laughed softly.
The vibration in her chest came through the skin pressed together between them. She leaned into Wen Yan’s ear and whispered with a slyness like a prankster who had gotten her way, “Don’t worry... I didn’t cut my nails.”
She brushed against Wen Yan’s reddened ear, then added in an innocent yet suggestive tone, “I’m just... rubbing. Not going in.”
Wen Yan’s mind went completely blank with a buzz.
All reason, all ability to think, seemed to be wiped clean at that moment.
Only the most primal, direct sensory shock remained.
The female body, in certain respects, was perhaps even more sensitive—and more fragile—than a man’s.
That most secret core, usually protected with great care, was now unfolded without defense, exposed to wind and rain.
A spring breeze gently brushed over the flower’s center, bringing a wave of devastating itch and softness.
Then it was battered by storm and rain, bringing an entirely different kind of pleasure.
The petals standing on the branch were handled so intimately, again and again, toyed with and tormented.
Wanting to struggle, yet unable to bear hiding.
She could only passively endure this sweet torture, helplessly trembling and dampening.
This was... insane...
Wen Yan drifted up and down in the sea of flowers constructed by her own consciousness, unable to tell one moment from the next.
Until, at some point, the tension reached its limit. She suddenly arched upward.
Like a taut string snapping at once, or a knee-jerk reaction beyond her control, she abruptly sat up and seized Jin Zijin’s roaming wrist, clamping down hard.
Jin Zijin was stunned by her sudden, violent reaction and forgot to continue.
Wen Yan panted heavily, her whole body going limp as she fell back onto the bed, chest rising and falling violently.
It took Jin Zijin a few seconds to react.
She lowered her head, glanced at her own wet fingertips, then at Wen Yan, who was collapsed on the bed with unfocused eyes and a flushed face. Astonishment and deep fascination flashed in her gaze.
She leaned in and deliberately held her fingers up in front of Wen Yan’s eyes, her voice carrying unabashed wonder and smug delight: “Dr. Wen... you’re so sensitive...”
“Look,” she mimicked what Wen Yan had done to her before, her tone naive and wicked at once, “It’s all yours.”
Wen Yan’s gaze focused on that glossy finger; her throat bobbed hard as she tried to steady her ragged breathing and the slight spasms still running through her body.
At that moment, Jin Zijin pressed even closer, her nose nearly touching Wen Yan’s, her eyes glittering with eager mischief. “Again?”
Wen Yan looked at that face full of “I’ve discovered a new world” and “I still want to play,” closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, a trace of helpless amusement had slipped into her expression.
Her voice was still hoarse. “Sure.”
At that, Jin Zijin’s eyes lit up intensely, and she immediately moved to continue the unfinished “exploration.”
However, her wrist was still held by Wen Yan.
The next second, Wen Yan’s waist suddenly tightened with force; with one sweep of her arm, she actually lifted Jin Zijin clean off the bed.
She settled Jin Zijin firmly across her raised legs, arranging them face-to-face in a straddling position.
Leaning against the soft headboard, Wen Yan wrapped one arm tightly around Jin Zijin’s back to keep her steady in her embrace. Her other hand, however, slid along Jin Zijin’s smooth spine and pushed in with force.
Hot and slick all over, the heat was astonishing.
“Ah—!” Jin Zijin gasped in shock, her fingers gripping Wen Yan’s shoulders hard.
She stared at her wide-eyed, her face instantly flaming red. “You...”
Wen Yan held her half in her arms and leaned into her equally burning ear, breathing out with wicked intent, “So hot.”
Jin Zijin was both embarrassed and annoyed; she punched Wen Yan’s shoulder, her voice furious after being ambushed. “Wen Yan! You jerk! You said tonight was all mine!”
Wen Yan let out a muffled grunt from the blow, but her hand did not stop. In fact, taking advantage of how tightly they were pressed together, she explored even deeper.
A sheen of sweat broke out at her temple; her wrist trembled slightly and her breathing was in disarray, yet she still laughed softly. “I did let you.”
She turned her head and kissed the damp hair at Jin Zijin’s temple, her voice swallowed by their tangled breaths, carrying a kind of resigned indulgence and a deeper desire. “But Zijin...”
“This place of yours,” she said, her fingertip lightly scraping across it, drawing a shudder and a muffled sound from Jin Zijin, “...is even more ‘bad’ than mine.”
“I can’t... hold back at all.”
The moment those words fell, she kissed away all of Jin Zijin’s unspoken protests and moans, pulling them both into another, fiercer whirlpool of passion.
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In the satisfaction and exhaustion of a hangover-like satiation, Wen Yan was the first to wake, summoned by her biological clock.
A faint wash of morning light slipped in from outside, tinting the room in a quiet gray-blue.
As soon as she moved slightly, she felt the warm body in her arms nestle closer.
Lowering her eyes, she saw that Jin Zijin was still asleep; her long hair was spread across the pillow, her cheek pressed against Wen Yan’s shoulder hollow, her breathing shallow and even.
Wen Yan carefully pulled her arm free, then picked up the smart watch on the bedside table and glanced at it.
Outdoor temperature: minus 3 degrees.
No wonder the room felt so especially quiet and bright.
She got up quietly, went to the window, and lifted a corner of the curtain.
Sure enough, the world outside was already covered with a thin layer of sparkling white snow, like frosting scattered over a sleeping city, glimmering faintly in the morning light.
The underfloor heating indoors was abundant, dry and warm; it was entirely another world from the frozen landscape outside.
She washed up softly, changed into comfortable loungewear, and went downstairs.
Mi Tang, curled in its cat bed, heard the movement and immediately perked up its ears. Then with a soft “meow,” it darted out lightly and circled at her feet, rubbing its fluffy head against her ankle.
Wen Yan bent to pick it up and stroked its little head with some apology. “Sorry, little one; I forgot to give you a late-night snack before bed yesterday, didn’t I?”
Mi Tang purred in her arms.
“Come on, keep Mom company while she exercises for a bit.” Holding the cat, she walked into the still-warm home gym on the first floor.
As a surgeon, her profession demanded nearly exacting standards of physical fitness.
Through winter and summer, no matter how busy she was, she never stopped basic conditioning and core training.
A good body was the foundation for standing at the operating table and fighting for hours on end.
She set Mi Tang on a soft mat nearby, then settled her mind and began to box.
After two rounds, her body had warmed slightly and a sheen of sweat gathered at her temples, but her spirits were lifted.
She went into the kitchen and began preparing breakfast.
Tonight there would be a family dinner; in the evening she and Jin Zijin would need to return to the old residence.
But before that, they still had an entire day ahead of them.
At the thought of being able to stay wrapped up with the person she loved in a warm home on such a cold winter day, watching the snow, chatting, or doing nothing at all, simply being together in silence...
A soft, comforting feeling welled up in Wen Yan’s heart.
Winter called for hot food.
She pan-fried a fragrant steak and sunny-side-up eggs, simmered a small pot of vegetable soup with milk, and toasted a few slices of whole wheat bread.
The aroma of food gradually spread.
Mi Tang stayed at her feet the whole time, tilting its little head and meowing again and again, its amber eyes full of longing.
Wen Yan laughed, warming a little milk in a small dish and carefully setting it in front of it, watching it lick at it in tiny mouthfuls.
She also opened a tube of cat treat, changed the drinking water, and refilled the cat food.
Only then did the little one, thoroughly satisfied, temporarily leave her alone.
After plating breakfast, Wen Yan carried it toward the master bedroom.
Mi Tang trailed her all the way to the foot of the stairs, looking up and making soft calls, as if it wanted to go up too.
Wen Yan stopped on the stairs and turned back to look at it, speaking gently. “Be good; you’re still too small right now, so climbing stairs isn’t safe.”
“Next time, Mom will carry you up to play, okay?”
Mi Tang seemed to understand. It let out a low meow, a little disappointed, then turned and ambled back to its warm cat bed, curling itself into a ball.
Seeing its tiny back, Wen Yan’s heart softened.
Maybe... next time, she really could try letting it stay in the bedroom for a while?
As long as Zijin didn’t object.
She pushed the master bedroom door open lightly; warmth and the faint scent of Jin Zijin came spilling out together.
Jin Zijin was still asleep, sunk deep into the soft down comforter, only a small portion of her face visible, along with the black hair scattered beside the pillow.
She was born with an exceptionally fine-boned, cold-looking face: high nose bridge, distinct brow bone, sharp jawline.
When she wasn’t smiling or sleeping, that detached coolness came through instinctively.
Like someone carved from ice and snow; beautiful, but difficult to approach.
But Wen Yan had seen the way she looked when she smiled, her eyes flowing with warmth as the frost melted away.
And she had seen her too when lost in desire, cheeks flushed, eyes wet, lips parted, utterly out of control in a way that was breathtakingly lovely...
That was an entirely different sight.
Thinking of that, Wen Yan’s heartbeat quickened again, and a faint tremor seemed to stir somewhere deep in her body.
She steadied herself, went to the window, and quietly instructed the smart home system to draw the blackout curtains open.
Brilliant post-snow morning light poured into the room without obstruction, filling it with translucent white brightness.
Disturbed by the light, Jin Zijin frowned in her sleep and instinctively shrank further under the covers, letting out an unhappy murmur.
Wen Yan sat down by the bed, reached out, and softly patted her warm cheek with her fingertips, speaking in an even gentler voice. “Zijin, Zijin... wake up. Time to get up.”
Jin Zijin opened her eyes groggily; her lashes fluttered as she looked toward Wen Yan without focus, her voice muffled and hoarse. “...What time is it?”
“Seven-thirty,” Wen Yan answered truthfully.
Jin Zijin was silent for two seconds, then closed her eyes, rolled over, and pulled the blanket over her head.
Her muffled voice came from beneath it, heavy with sleep and dissatisfaction: “...Only seven-thirty... Wen Yan, are you a devil... go away, I want to sleep...”
Wen Yan reacted quickly; before she could burrow fully back under the covers, she scooped her up with blanket and all, lifting her into her arms and seating her securely on her lap, wrapping her in the blanket like a warm cocoon.
“Ah!” Jin Zijin woke up completely this time. She struggled out from under the blanket and glared at Wen Yan, her eyes full of panic and accusation. “You... you’re at it again?”
Her voice even carried a little of the hoarseness and pitiful tremble left from crying last night: “No more, no more... eight times already... ancestor, please behave... I’m really scared now...”
It looked like last night’s “provocation” had indeed left her with lasting trauma.
Wen Yan couldn’t help but laugh under her breath at her battle-ready expression.
She tightened her arms and held her more securely, lowering her head to rub her cheek against Jin Zijin’s fluffy, sleep-warm hair, soothing her gently. “What are you thinking? I’m not bullying you.”
“I just want to call you up to eat something.” She gestured toward the breakfast on the cabinet by the bed. “You worked hard all night; sleeping on an empty stomach for too long in the morning isn’t good.”
“Eat a little, warm your stomach, then go back to sleep for a bit. Okay?”
The final “okay?” rose slightly at the end, coaxing and tender, impossibly gentle.
Jin Zijin looked at her skeptically, then glanced at the tray of food that really did look appetizing, and only then did the tension in her body gradually ease.
Leaning in Wen Yan’s arms, she yawned lazily, a little tear of physiology gathering at the corner of her eye.
“What did you make?” she asked, her voice still sleepy.
“Steak and eggs, vegetable soup, and bread,” Wen Yan said, listing them one by one. “Should I feed you some?”
Jin Zijin rubbed against her in her arms, searching for a more comfortable position.
She closed her eyes and lengthened her tone, openly coaxing, “Mm... okay then.”
“Then feed me... I don’t have the strength. I can’t even lift my hands...”
“Okay.” Wen Yan agreed indulgently, wrapping the blanket carefully around her so she wouldn’t catch cold.
Then she picked up the soup bowl, spooned out a mouthful, blew on it gently, and held it to her lips.
Jin Zijin obediently opened her mouth and drank it down; the warm, savory soup slid into her stomach and indeed brought a comforting heat.
Like a big cat being stroked just right, she narrowed her eyes and accepted the feeding in small mouthfuls.
Wen Yan fed her patiently while watching her lazy, dependent expression; certain sultry scenes from last night kept invading her mind uncontrollably.
Poor Jin Zijin had paid a rather “tragic” price for her “one more time.”
Wen Yan first indulged her and held her face-to-face on her lap.
Gentle restraint, deep possession.
When she whined that kneeling and sitting in a straddle made her legs sore and her waist weak, making it uncomfortable...
Wen Yan readily flipped them over and pressed her between the soft mattress and the hard bedside cabinet.
The cold edge of the cabinet pressed against Jin Zijin’s sweat-damp back, making her shudder.
The woman’s head was pinned against the cabinet, with nowhere to retreat or advance; she could only passively endure it, crying prettily and breaking into pleading sobs that she didn’t want any more.
Wen Yan then scooped her up again and carried her horizontally in her arms, one hand supporting her waist and hips steadily.
The other hand, however, wickedly stroked her, kneading and teasing her with alternating light and heavy pressure.
Caught front and back, Jin Zijin was overwhelmed by pleasure so intense she no longer had the strength even to cry out.
All that remained were broken whimpers and tears spilling down in shimmering drops, crystal clear, really like snow grains gathered in winter.
Wen Yan lowered her head to kiss her wet cheeks, licking away the salty tears.
But Jin Zijin turned her head aside and said in a hoarse, tear-choked voice, pouting, “Don’t kiss me... go away... bad person!”
Wen Yan continued what she was doing and answered in a good-tempered, low voice, “Mm, I’m bad... I’m the worst...”
Until Jin Zijin finally went completely weak in her arms, like a puddle of melting spring water, unable even to lift her fingertips.
Only then did that “dominance game,” which had begun by her own hand but had clearly gone far beyond her control, finally come to a slow close under Wen Yan’s last gentle comfort.
As she recalled it, Wen Yan unconsciously looked out the window.
Somehow, fine snow had begun to fall again, drifting silently down to adorn the silver-white world.
Wen Yan drew her gaze back and let it settle on the woman in her arms, nibbling at bread with a trace of lazy allure lingering at the corners of her eyes and brows. A strangely uncanny feeling suddenly rose in her heart.
Just a month ago, no, even just a few days ago, she would never have imagined that she would allow another person to intrude so completely into her life, her space, her body, and even... her bed.
Not only allowing the other person to leave traces of overnight presence, but also allowing her to eat in bed; allowing herself to worry like an old mother over whether the other was eating on an empty stomach or might catch cold, and deriving from it a sense of happiness so grounded it was almost peaceful.
It was too strange.
It completely contradicted the boundaries and habits she had lived by for more than twenty years.
And yet it had happened.
And somehow, it didn’t feel bad at all.
“Destined...” she murmured without thinking.
“Hm?” Jin Zijin swallowed the food in her mouth and looked up at her curiously, a bit of bread crumb still at the corner of her lips. “What’s destined?”
Wen Yan came back to herself, looked down into the morning eyes that reflected her own image, and suddenly smiled.
She leaned over, kissed the bread crumb off Jin Zijin’s lashes, then pressed her lips lightly against hers and softly finished the sentence: “A marriage.”
“Destined.”
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1:8.
Poor Zijin; every time she ends up being bullied into saying, “No more, no more...”
Hahahahaha, I’m dying laughing.
It’s so cold today.
Freezing.