Chapter 57

After the charity gala ended, Wen Yan plunged straight back into nonstop work.

One surgery after another, with emergency consults coming one after the next.

Like a top wound up tight, she ran from Monday morning straight through to Wednesday noon before the intensity finally let up a little.

By the time she pushed open the door to her duplex apartment, her steps were unsteady.

Dozens of hours of grueling work had left her so sleepy she could barely keep her eyes open. All she wanted was to fall into a soft bed.

After a quick wash, she collapsed under the covers and even forgot to draw the curtains.

She didn’t know how long she’d slept before she stirred awake groggily. The light outside had already softened.

Rubbing her eyes, she got up and walked out of the room. The rich aroma of food hit her at once, filling her nose with its domineering presence.

Wen Yan’s mind cleared in an instant. Her first thought was: at this hour, who would be in her house?

Jin Zijin?

The moment that thought surfaced, most of Wen Yan’s sleepiness vanished.

She slipped on her slippers and hurried downstairs. The first thing she saw was that familiar figure sitting upright on the sofa in the living room.

The lighting in the living room was soft, the warm yellow glow of a floor lamp bathing the sofa area.

Jin Zijin was lounging slightly to one side on the sofa, a tablet on her knees, wireless earphones in her ears. Her fingers tapped the screen occasionally, her expression focused and cool.

From the open kitchen came the faint bubbling of something simmering gently in a clay pot over low heat.

Wen Yan turned to look over and saw Aunt Liu busy at the stove in an apron, spatula in hand as she stirred something carefully. Steam drifted up, tinting the side of her face a light red.

Wen Yan let out a breath of relief, and the warmth rising in her chest seemed to swallow her whole.

These past three days, the two of them had each been buried in work. Let alone meeting, they had only managed a few hurried video calls, each one cut off quickly.

She really missed her.

She missed that crisp, citrus-cool scent on her body; missed the occasional softness she let slip through; missed the warmth of her arms when she held her.

Wen Yan’s feet almost moved on their own toward the sofa. She wanted to rush over and hold her tightly, to press all three days of longing into an embrace.

But when she saw the slight crease between Jin Zijin’s brows and the focused look in her eyes, Wen Yan forced herself to stop.

She was still working; she couldn’t disturb her.

Suppressing the flutter in her heart, Wen Yan walked lightly toward the kitchen island and called softly, “Aunt Liu.”

“Oh my, Madam, you’re awake!” Aunt Liu immediately turned around, her face creasing into a warm smile, though her hands never stopped moving. “Sit down, sit down. Dinner’s almost ready. We’re just waiting for you to wake up before we eat.”

She lifted the lid of the clay pot beside her, and a dense fragrance of beef shank burst out at once.

In the bubbling broth, the beef had been stewed until tender, and the carrots and potatoes had soaked up the soup, their color rich and tempting.

“Miss knows you’ve been pulling night shifts these days and must be exhausted, so she specially called me over to make you something good.”

Aunt Liu smiled until her eyes curved, taking credit on her boss’s behalf. “As soon as I got here, she had me simmer beef shank for you. It’s been over three hours. Guaranteed tender, flavorful, and delicious!”

Looking at the steam rolling out of the pot, Wen Yan felt her heart warm all over, and the corners of her mouth lifted unconsciously. “Thank you, Aunt Liu. It smells amazing. I’ll definitely eat a lot later.”

“That’s right, you need to eat more and build yourself back up.” Aunt Liu waved a hand. “You just woke up, so go wash up first. I’ll fry one more green vegetable and we’ll be done.”

“Okay.” Wen Yan answered and turned to head back upstairs.

This time, her steps were much lighter; even her fatigue seemed to have eased a little.

After washing up, she changed into comfortable home clothes. By the time she came back downstairs, Aunt Liu was gone.

The tablet in the living room had already been put away. Jin Zijin was sitting at the dining table, elbows on the tabletop, chin propped on one hand, smiling as she looked at her.

“Come here.” Jin Zijin beckoned her over, her voice a little hoarse from just finishing work, yet still gentle.

Wen Yan walked over quickly and sat in the chair opposite her, her eyes full of unhidden happiness. “Why did you come over? Did you get off work so early today?”

“Today happened to be a little freer.” Jin Zijin picked up a pair of serving chopsticks and placed a piece of beef shank, stewed until soft and tender, onto the small plate in front of Wen Yan. “One project got finalized ahead of schedule, so there wasn’t much else to do. I got off early and came over to eat with my wife.”

“You’re so good.” Wen Yan’s brows curved, the light in her eyes brighter than the lamp on the table.

“Eat more.” Jin Zijin added a piece of carrot for her, watching the way she chewed in small bites; the smile in her eyes deepened. “Slow down. No one’s going to snatch it from you.”

“Thank you.” Wen Yan said it almost instinctively.

Jin Zijin raised a brow, setting the serving chopsticks down and looking at her with a half-smile. “Thank you for what?”

Wen Yan froze for a moment, then immediately understood. Her cheeks turned a little red, but she still followed along obediently. “Thank you, wife, for picking food for me.”

“That’s more like it.” Jin Zijin smiled in satisfaction and reached over to ruffle her hair. “Dr. Wen was being far too distant before.”

Wen Yan’s face turned even redder. She lowered her head and quietly picked at the rice in her bowl, but the corners of her mouth stayed lifted the whole time.

The two of them ate while chatting idly.

Wen Yan told her about the difficult surgeries she’d encountered these past few days, and how brave the little patient with scoliosis had been.

Jin Zijin, meanwhile, shared a small episode from project negotiations, her tone relaxed, as if the plots and counterplots of business meant nothing at all.

The meal was warm and comfortable. The clay pot of beef shank was finished to the last drop, and the greens were cleared as well.

After they put the dishes into the dishwasher, the two of them sat together on the living room sofa, leaning against the soft cushions and enjoying the rare quiet.

Jin Zijin held Wen Yan’s arm, her fingertips lightly tracing the back of her hand. In an interested tone, she asked, “Anything you want to do tonight?”

Wen Yan seemed to see through her intentions and leaned closer. “Do you want to go out on a date with me?”

“Looks like Dr. Wen really does have time tonight.” Jin Zijin curved her lips, a hint of mystery flashing in her eyes. “I do have something I want you to do with me.”

“Okay.” Wen Yan agreed without hesitation, then asked curiously, “What do I need to do with you?”

But Jin Zijin kept her in suspense, reaching over to pinch her cheek. “You’ll know when the time comes.”

Seeing her deliberately mysterious expression, Wen Yan smiled indulgently and nodded. “Alright, I’ll listen to you.”

After dinner, Aunt Liu had already tidied the kitchen and left.

Jin Zijin took Wen Yan’s hand and led her toward the study.

“I’m taking you somewhere.” Jin Zijin’s voice carried a hint of delight.

Wen Yan followed her full of curiosity. The moment she pushed the door open, she was stunned.

At some point, eight boxes of various sizes had appeared in the study, neatly arranged along the wall and taking up quite a bit of space.

They were all uniform dark hardboard boxes with labels stuck on the outside; they looked heavy.

“Ta-da——” Jin Zijin spread her arms, her tone carrying a trace of triumph. “Surprised?”

Wen Yan’s eyes widened as she looked back and forth across the eight boxes, then asked instinctively, “What is this? Books?”

“Why don’t you open them and find out?” Jin Zijin handed her a utility knife, her eyes full of anticipation.

Wen Yan took it, walked to the nearest box, and carefully cut through the tape.

The moment the box opened, a thick layer of foam wrap came into view, and inside were several hefty albums stacked neatly.

She picked up the one on top, peeled away the film, and revealed the cover.

It was a beautifully made photo album, with the gold-embossed words “Zijin’s Growing-Up Diary” on the cover.

On impulse, she flipped open the first page. A clear old photograph came into view.

In the photo, a wrinkled infant was wrapped in soft swaddling cloth, being held carefully in the arms of a young couple.

The baby’s little face was red, eyes tightly shut, with a pair of tiny red feet peeking out. She looked like a little rice dumpling.

Wen Yan’s breath caught slightly. She looked up at Jin Zijin, surprise written all over her face. “This is... your photo album?”

Jin Zijin sat down beside her, shoulder to shoulder, smiling brightly as she looked at her. “Yeah. Didn’t you always want to know more about me?”

Her fingertips brushed the album cover as she smiled. “So I brought over all my past ‘records’ and let you take a proper look at what my life used to be like.”

Wen Yan felt as if her heart had been instantly filled with warmth; she was both startled and moved.

She looked down at the album in her hands, gently stroking the pages.

After a moment, she raised her head and tentatively asked, “Including the past you don’t want to face?”

Jin Zijin met her gaze and nodded without hesitation. “Yes, everything.”

She paused, then said softly but firmly, “The years you weren’t part of are all here.”

Wen Yan turned to look at the eight neatly lined-up boxes, and a heavy shock surged through her heart.

This was not merely a photo album; it was plainly a condensation of Jin Zijin’s more than twenty years of life, a complete offering of her trust and love without reservation.

Wen Yan sniffled, her eyes turning hot.

Still, she couldn’t help laughing and reached out to wrap her arms around Jin Zijin’s arm. “Then I really have to take a proper look!”

“Of course.” Jin Zijin rubbed her hair and lifted the album with her. “Come on, let’s look together.”

The two of them leaned together on the study rug, soft cushions behind their backs, while a floor lamp stretched their shadows long.

Jin Zijin flipped open the album and pointed to the baby picture with her finger, whispering in Wen Yan’s ear, “Grandma said that when I was just born, I looked like a little pig— all wrinkled and ugly as could be.”

“My mom even cried about it then, thinking, how did I give birth to such an unattractive daughter?”

Wen Yan looked at the wrinkled little baby in the photo and couldn’t help laughing. “I think she’s adorable. Not ugly at all.”

“Really? I think so too.” Jin Zijin lifted a brow, her tone carrying a bit of self-satisfaction. “After a few days, once my features filled out, my mom thought, hmm, her daughter is still very pretty.”

She continued flipping backward, photo after photo recording the entire process from swaddled infant to a toddler learning to walk.

There was one of her sitting up for the first time, staring blankly into the camera.

One of her holding onto the railing while learning to walk, her little face full of stubbornness.

And one where she was nestled in Grandma’s arms, a cookie in her hand, crumbs all over her face.

“My mom was childfree by choice, but after she had me, she completely turned into a daughter-doting maniac.”

Jin Zijin’s voice was full of amusement. “No matter how busy she was every day, she’d take tons of photos of me, and she’d carefully label each one with the date and reason, saying she wanted to record every moment of my life.”

Just from birth to one month old, there was already an entire thick album.

One photograph after another linked together like a film that could move, clearly showing the growth of a tiny life; it was both shocking and heartwarming.

Wen Yan had always known that Jin Zijin grew up surrounded by boundless affection.

But when these heavy “records” truly appeared before her eyes, she finally felt in a direct, tangible way just how concrete and intense that love had been.

From the careful protection of her parents, to her grandmother’s endless affection, to the meticulous care of the household staff, Jin Zijin had truly grown up immersed in love.

No wonder she could give her own blazing love to her partner so unreservedly.

Because she had grown up in love, she knew how to love; because she had grown up in love, she dared to love.

Wen Yan’s eyes grew hotter and hotter. She sniffled and pressed her lips together.

“Look at this one.”

Jin Zijin pointed to another photo. In it, the little girl was about a year old, wearing a tiny princess dress, puffing out her cheeks in a tantrum, while the nanny beside her held a toy to coax her.

Looking at that photo, Jin Zijin couldn’t help laughing. “I was really domineering back then. I had a very strong sense of order; everything had to go by my rules, and I had to be waited on personally, or else I’d cry and make a fuss.”

She explained with a smile, “I had to be fed by Grandma at mealtimes. If anyone else tried, I wouldn’t take a single bite.”

“I had to be taken to the bathroom by Zhou Ayi. If someone else took me, I’d absolutely refuse.”

“Even when I slept, I had to hug the little bear my mom sewed for me, or I’d cry the whole night long.”

Wen Yan listened and couldn’t help admiring her. “You were basically a little emperor.”

No wonder her personality grew up so forceful, and her temper so big; the whole family had been indulging her.

Then again, she was the only child in the family, the treasured child Grandma had hoped for for so long. If she hadn’t been spoiled, that would have been the problem.

For Jin Zijin to have grown up in such an environment and still developed such healthy values showed just how good the Jin family’s upbringing was.

Thinking of that, Wen Yan’s gaze toward Jin Zijin unconsciously softened even more.

“That’s right; I was our family’s little emperor.” Jin Zijin lifted her chin, her tone carrying childish pride.

Then she flipped to another photo.

In the picture, Jin Zijin’s parents had wrapped her in the middle of a large bedsheet. Each of them held one corner and gently rocked her like a hammock; the little girl inside the sheet smiled so hard her eyes curved, revealing two tiny milk teeth.

“What was going on in this one?” Wen Yan asked curiously.

“Oh, this one.” Jin Zijin recalled it. “Back then my parents took me out of town to play. In a new environment, I wasn’t used to it, and at night I couldn’t sleep, so I cried and made a fuss.”

“They had no choice, so they came up with this way to coax me. It worked, too. I fell asleep right away, but they took turns rocking me the whole night and were both so exhausted the next day they could barely stand up straight.”

Wen Yan couldn’t help laughing. “Your parents really spoiled you too much.”

“And that wasn’t the only time.” Jin Zijin kept turning the pages, stopping at a photo of herself lying down, her little head round and full, sleeping deeply. “When I was little, I slept terribly. I also liked sleeping on my side. My mom was worried I’d end up with a flat head, so every night she had to get up several times to turn me over.”

“See? My head is round because of that.”

Wen Yan unconsciously reached out and gently touched the top of her head. Her hair was soft and smooth, the line of her skull rounded and graceful; it really was a lovely round head.

“It really is. It’s very round.”

Jin Zijin also reached over and touched Wen Yan’s head, praising her with interest. “Your head is very round too. Were you turned over a lot when you were little?”

At the mention of her own childhood, Wen Yan frowned slightly. “I don’t really remember.”

She paused, then added, “When I was little, a nanny took care of my brother and me. I heard her say that the two of us used to fight a lot back then; I beat him until he cried out loud.”

“Even when we were asleep, we weren’t peaceful; we’d kick our arms and legs around and even scratch at each other, so the nanny often had to get up and turn us over and separate us, just so we wouldn’t hurt ourselves while fighting.”

“That counts as a blessing in disguise, then.” Jin Zijin smiled, brows and eyes curving, unable to resist smoothing Wen Yan’s hair again. “See? In the end, you got a lovely round head too.”

Wen Yan was amused into laughter by her and nodded. “Mm, I suppose so.”

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Yes, Jin Zijin is exactly that kind of emperor [panda head]

Did your winter break start already? [panda head]

TL Note:

little emperor (小皇帝) = a spoiled only child, a common Chinese term for someone who grew up heavily indulged.