Chapter 61
After a while of busy work, all the tents were finally set up.
Several tents stood firmly on a sheltered slope by the lake, like brightly colored mushrooms taking root warmly in the snow.
In the central communal tent, the charcoal brazier burned at full force. Orange-red flames leaped and danced, stretching and breaking the silhouettes on the canvas walls, filling the place with comforting warmth.
Jiang Linyue greeted Wen Yan, then walked over to help Jin Ziyu.
Jin Ziyu was seated beside a folding table, head lowered as she handled the ingredients taken out from the insulated box.
Her fingers had gone a little red from the cold air, but her movements were still crisp and efficient.
The lamb leg had been cut with neat slashes and brushed evenly with honey and sauce.
The beef, with its marbled fat, had cumin sprinkled over it; under the firelight, the grains glistened with an appetizing sheen.
All kinds of seafood and delicious vegetables were neatly arranged on trays, looking especially plentiful.
Jin Ziyu looked up, saw Jiang Linyue’s faintly blurred figure, and called toward the tent flap, “Linyue, the stove’s hot enough. Please help Jianlan keep an eye on things; I’ll be there once I finish this up.”
“Okay.” Jiang Linyue answered lightly, then walked toward Ye Jianlan in front of the grill.
By then, Ye Jianlan was already wearing heat-resistant gloves and holding a long pair of tongs, carefully turning the first batch of skewers on the rack.
Fat dripped onto the charcoal, bursting at once into a lively sizzle; the rich aroma of spices released by the heat instantly flooded the tent.
Ye Jianlan glanced at her and smiled. “You got the tents up so quickly. As expected, when senior sisters from the same school work together, the efficiency really is high.”
Jiang Linyue gave a quiet “Mm,” took the tongs beside her, and added charcoal to the grill. “I’ll grill with you.”
“Sure.” Ye Jianlan agreed readily, shifting sideways to make room for her.
Jiang Linyue stood a little off to the side, holding a small pair of iron tongs. Every so often, she prodded the charcoal so air could circulate and the heat would stay steady.
Her movements were calm, but her eyes kept drifting uncontrollably toward the tent opening.
Night had fallen. The cold, clear moonlight covered the silent mountain range, like a troop of towering giants closing in on the frozen lake.
Silent, and oppressive.
On that eerie sheet of ice, two bright figures were crouched by a drilled hole, gesturing wildly.
Jin Zijin’s voice carried in on the wind, sharp with righteous criticism. “Your bait is hooked wrong! Too stiff. The fish will peck once and know it’s fake!”
“You’re the one doing it wrong! It has to be secured properly, or the current will wash it off. Then what, you’re fishing air?” Chi Chunxin shot back immediately, her voice no quieter.
They were arguing so loudly that if there were fish, they’d probably scare them all away.
So Wen Yan liked this lively sort of personality, huh?
Well...
If the two of them were both as quiet and taciturn as her, life would indeed be too dull.
As she thought that, a handful of beef skewers was suddenly handed to her, still sizzling.
Jiang Linyue looked up and saw Ye Jianlan’s curved brows and smiling eyes. “Here, Senior Jiang. This batch of beef skewers is in your care.”
Jiang Linyue froze for a moment, then reached out to take them and murmured a soft “Okay.”
Just then, Wen Yan finished putting away the tools and walked toward the central tent.
Chi Chunxin happened to look back and saw her at once. She immediately called out, “Hey! Wen Yan, stop being busy and come over here. Your wife needs you!”
Wen Yan came to a halt and turned to stare at her, confused.
Chi Chunxin waggled her eyebrows at her and pointed her chin toward Jin Zijin, who was frowning beside her and wrestling with the bait. “Come help your AI wife. Looks like her program’s got a bug and needs a human engineer to debug it on-site.”
“Otherwise, she’ll come up empty-handed later, lose face, and blame the fish in the lake for having no eyes.”
The moment Jin Zijin heard that, she bristled. “Chi Chunxin!”
She lifted her head at once, glaring at her in annoyance. “Stop spouting nonsense and confusing people.”
“What? You think I’m going home empty-handed?”
“There are plenty of fish in this lake that I raised. Even if I didn’t bait the hook, I still wouldn’t come back empty-handed!”
Chi Chunxin clicked her tongue. “Look at that, she’s anxious. Anxious again!”
“Say a couple of words and you’re already losing your temper. Your cultivation is really lacking!”
The two of them started pecking at each other like rookie birds again.
Wen Yan looked at their childish argument, as ridiculous as a pair of kindergarten kids, then turned back to the two people standing side by side by the grill.
Each of them held a skewer, flipping and grilling in perfect sync; their movements were identical in pace, so tacitly in step it felt as though they had worked together countless times before, calm and efficient.
It looked like Senior Sister didn’t need her help here.
She should probably help her own wife instead.
Otherwise, sooner or later, Chi Chunxin was going to flirt her into a meltdown.
Wen Yan gave a helpless smile, set down the tools, and started toward her. “Zijin, wait for me. I’m coming.”
——————
As soon as Jin Zijin heard Wen Yan’s footsteps coming from the direction of the tent, her expression instantly turned from cloudy to clear; even the corners of her brows and eyes lifted.
She shifted aside to make room for Wen Yan and waved her over. “Come here. Quick.”
Wen Yan walked up to her in small steps, and Jin Zijin proudly lifted the fishing rod and a small box of live bait in her hands. “Look, use this—red worms. Fish love them.”
“Pass the hook tip through here gently, leave a little bit of head and tail moving. Yes, just like that...”
Wen Yan followed her example and quickly threaded the bait on.
Jin Zijin was instantly delighted and praised her without holding back. “Wow, Yan Yan’s hands are so steady. You learned it right away!”
When Wen Yan heard the two words “Yan Yan,” she lowered her eyes and laughed softly.
At that moment, Chi Chunxin, the remote instructor, shouted again from the side, ruining the atmosphere as usual. “Wrong, wrong! You put it in too deep! The worm isn’t moving anymore!”
She came over and said disdainfully, “Jin Zijin, you’re a total amateur yourself; stop misleading the next generation.”
“Wen Yan, listen to me. Just let the hook tip brush through the skin. What you want is that sort of half-close, half-distant temptation, get it?”
She started trying to steal the student away from Jin Zijin.
“What do you know about temptation?” Jin Zijin shot back at once, pulling Wen Yan closer to her like a protective mother hen. “That’s baiting stupid fish! Wen Yan, don’t listen to her. Follow mine; we’re catching smart ones.”
“Your baiting method can only catch water plants!”
“The way you do it makes fish curse as they swim away!”
The two of them launched into another round of arguing. Their utterly useless words and exaggerated voices echoed over the empty frozen lake, so loud they scared even the crows away from landing.
Listening to them, Wen Yan thought that there was no way they’d catch anything this time. The fish had probably all been frightened off.
Amused as she was, her hands didn’t lag at all.
While they were busy arguing, Wen Yan had already finished baiting the hook and was now holding the cold fishing rod as she sat on a small stool.
The line dropped into the dark blue ice hole, and the endless noise in her ears made the corner of her lips curl slightly.
The cold moonlight dyed the ice a gray-blue. Wen Yan tilted her head and, between the snow and moonlight, saw Jin Zijin’s vivid, dazzling face.
At that moment, snowlight and moonlight worked together to blur away Jin Zijin’s years and age.
With her childhood companions around her, she seemed to have returned to the youthful appearance she had at fifteen or sixteen.
For a brief instant, Wen Yan felt as though she had also taken part in that vivid, lively, youthful, and rich adolescence of hers.
Wen Yan had grown up skipping grades; the “classmates” around her were always a little older.
They talked about research topics, internships, future plans; polite, but distant.
No one would ever get so worked up over trivial nonsense that they’d argue with red faces and necks; no one would finish quarreling and then hook arms, sharing the same bag of snacks.
Even her twin brother, blood-related as they were, had the limited fights of childhood cut short every time by their parents with, “You’re the younger sister; don’t talk back to your brother.” The conflict was forcibly calmed.
Over time, it felt as though a transparent film had formed between them.
They could see each other, but there was no longer any fierce collision; even ordinary conversation became sparse and polite.
But Jin Zijin had that.
She had a friend who could play and quarrel with her, someone who had let her pass through her youth carefree.
She was different from Wen Yan.
Her youth was bright and unrestrained, vivid and brilliant.
How nice.
In those years Wen Yan had never taken part in, Jin Zijin had still lived happily. That was really...
So good.
Thinking of that, Wen Yan couldn’t help but curve her brows.
Although Jin Zijin was still bickering with Chi Chunxin, the corner of her eye had never left Wen Yan.
When she turned and caught Wen Yan’s affectionate gaze, something in her chest gave a small jolt.
How strange.
It felt like everything about her was being seen by Wen Yan.
And after Wen Yan looked, everything in her gaze was love.
Jin Zijin’s heart skipped a beat.
She temporarily called a truce, reached out, and touched the back of Wen Yan’s icy hand. “What is it? Do we sound too noisy? Then I’ll make her shut up.”
“No.” Wen Yan came back to herself, turned her hand over, and gently held Jin Zijin’s fingertips. She shook her head.
She looked at Jin Zijin, snowlight reflected in her eyes, clear and soft. “I think this is great. Very lively. Full of life.”
She paused, then lowered her voice a little, as if sharing a secret. “I don’t think I’ve ever had friends like this.”
“Friends of the same age who can argue without holding back, not bear grudges afterward, and go right back to laughing together the next second.”
She really envied them.
Envied Jin Zijin, and envied Chi Chunxin.
Envious that they could share everything with each other, love each other, and be so bold and passionate.
At that, Chi Chunxin raised her brows and temporarily stopped attacking.
She sat back down in her folding chair, the teasing look on her face fading a little as a more serious curiosity took its place. “Don’t you have a twin brother? Real siblings, too. Didn’t you two tear the house apart when you were kids?”
Jin Zijin immediately shot Chi Chunxin a glare that said, You talk too much.
The smile on Wen Yan’s face faded slightly; she only said in a calm, matter-of-fact tone, “We fought. When we were young, we fought over toys, picture books, the last cookie... often.”
“But every time we raised our voices a little, Mom would come over, pull us apart, and tell me, ‘Don’t talk back to your brother.’”
She lowered her eyelashes slightly and looked at the rippling water inside the ice hole. “After enough times, it seemed like we just stopped arguing. Later, we even talked less.”
“He played with his gems and stones; I looked at my medical books and anatomy charts. We didn’t interfere with each other.”
“Oh, what’s the big deal!” Chi Chunxin waved a hand, looking carefree as if it really was nothing. “You two just didn’t get along. You couldn’t play together.”
“If you were a good fit, you’d definitely talk more than we do.”
“Besides, siblings are blood; friends are a choice.”
Chi Chunxin began showing off her soothing abilities. “If I went to the same school as you, I’d definitely drag you out to play every day. Who’d want to hang around Jin Zijin’s AI self?”
“When I talk movies with her, she says the logic has a bug; when I talk about art exhibitions, she says the color use is unscientific; when I talk music with her... forget it, she only listens to experimental electronic music. Can that even be called music? That’s code crying.”
She seemed to have suddenly turned on her complaint switch, leaning closer to Wen Yan and lowering her voice as she tattled solemnly, “And do you know? That ‘Hengxing’ project they’re doing lately, that so-called ‘Creator’ AI project—guess what the main direction is?”
Wen Yan really didn’t know, so she asked with mock curiosity, “What is it?”
Chi Chunxin let out a dramatic “Whoa” and said solemnly, “Artistic creation! Film and TV effects! Virtual idols!”
“My god, with that technical power, why not develop more domestic AI that can sweep floors, cook, and tidy up the house? Free up our working people’s hands, will you?”
Jin Zijin immediately retorted, “Chi Chunxin, stop twisting the truth.”
When it came to her own career, she defended it without hesitation. “Fourteen years ago, Hengxing’s household cleaning robot line was already on the market.”
“It’s been iterated to the tenth generation now; sweeping and mopping in one, automatic water changing, and it has the highest market share!”
“Dishwashers, smart kitchen suites—what isn’t close to everyday life? Artistic creation is a spiritual need; it’s the tenth art, the track of the future. What kind of strategic layout do you understand?”
When it came to work, the aggression around Jin Zijin only intensified.
Her eyes were astonishingly bright; her jaw lifted slightly, like a leopard defending its territory, proud and beautiful.
Wen Yan’s heart stirred, and she asked curiously, “I always thought Hengxing’s core was new energy and high-end manufacturing. So it also has such deep involvement in consumer products and culture?”
“Of course.” Jin Zijin turned toward her, her tone unconsciously softening, though the certainty remained. “New energy is the foundation; it’s the key to the future.”
“But real technology must ultimately serve people and blend into the most ordinary parts of life.”
“Smart homes are the battlefield right now; culture and art are the vast sea of stars in the future.”
She rarely said something a little poetic. After finishing, she was the first to feel a bit embarrassed and coughed lightly.
Wen Yan looked at her and suddenly gave a very soft laugh, her gaze clear and earnest. “Hearing you say it like that, you seem kind of like EVA.”
“An almost all-purpose knowledge base and powerful execution; rational, strong, but deep inside...”
She paused, then smiled at Jin Zijin. “There’s some very soft emotional core.”
“I like that very much.”
Jin Zijin’s face turned bright red in an instant; even her neck flushed.
It was as if that sudden confession had hit her squarely, leaving her momentarily speechless.
Chi Chunxin was stunned for two seconds, her eyes widening at once, then burst into loud laughter. “Haha! EVA?”
“My god! Wen Yan, you’re a genius!”
“Then are you saying you’re WALL-E? Good heavens, thinking about it like that... it really is kind of fitting.”
Chi Chunxin leaned back to take them in.
One was plain-looking, but tall and strong, quiet and capable.
The other...
Leaving everything else aside, Jin Zijin’s face, her figure—Chi Chunxin had never seen anyone prettier than her.
Otherwise she wouldn’t have been able to put up with her for more than ten years!
Looking at them this way, good grief...
They really were WALL-E and EVA!
Chi Chunxin couldn’t help clapping. “Goodness, you two are so well matched. Wen Yan, you’re way too cute!”
“Don’t call my wife cute!” Jin Zijin protested shyly and indignantly. She reached out to cover Chi Chunxin’s mouth, while her other hand made as if to smack her on the head. “Are you trying to die, saying that about my wife!”
“What does whether my wife is cute have to do with you! Stay away from my wife!”
Chi Chunxin ducked and spat back, “I only said one line. Jin Zijin, why are you blushing?”
“Your wife is this cute, and you’re still trying to act like some pure little maiden at your age. Eww, gross..."
Jin Zijin wrapped an arm around her and bonked her head repeatedly. “Shut up! Don’t say it! That’s my wife!”
“Done for, done for, you’re hopeless. Fall in love once and you turn into a yandere.”
“On my conscience, I said one sentence and you won’t even let it go. Jin Zijin, your possessiveness is really terrifying!”
“You sick yandere woman!”
Chi Chunxin howled, not forgetting to lean out and call to Wen Yan, “Wen Yan, run!”
“She’s so possessive she’ll lock you in the house one day and not let you leave!”
“Oh heavens, earth... just saying cute and you can’t take it. Then if Dr. Wen goes out to work and shows her face in public, wouldn’t you be jealous into a frenzy?”
“So scary!”
“Creepy ghost woman!”
Chi Chunxin kept wailing!
The two of them made a racket together in the bright snowlight.
Watching Jin Zijin’s exasperated, embarrassed side profile and Chi Chunxin’s exaggerated antics, Wen Yan felt an unprecedented lightness and happiness welling up from deep inside her.
How nice.
She had been accepted.
At the entrance to the communal tent in the distance, Jiang Linyue listened to the noisy laughter drifting over from the ice and couldn’t help lifting her eyes to glance over a few more times.
The warm glow of the charcoal fire jumped across her side profile, but it couldn’t illuminate the deep stillness in her eyes.
Listening to Wen Yan’s soft, gentle murmurs, watching the intimate way she looked at Jin Zijin, that kind of initiative, that kind of natural ease...
It made Jiang Linyue’s fingers around the barbecue skewer slowly tighten.
The Wen Yan of before had always followed quietly behind her, like a well-behaved fledgling.
She asked her academic questions, listened to her describe her experiences in the field; there was reliance in those eyes, admiration, and complete trust in her as “Senior Sister.”
But now, that gaze had shifted.
It had become hotter, more active, even carrying a kind of vivid vitality Jiang Linyue had never seen before.
Was it because of Jin Zijin?
That person as dazzling as a flame, someone who could easily ignite everything around her.
She really did like her.
“Doctor Jiang, the charcoal seems a little weak. Should I add more?” Ye Jianlan’s gentle voice sounded beside her.
She lowered her gaze, her eyes resting calmly on Jiang Linyue’s face.
Jiang Linyue came back to herself in an instant; her tone returned to its usual steadiness. “Oh, okay. I’ll go get some charcoal.”
“No need, I already brought it.” Ye Jianlan gestured to the small charcoal basket by her feet. She naturally crouched down, used the tongs to pick up a few fresh pieces of charcoal, and skillfully tucked them into the gaps in the grill.
The fire flared up a little with a soft whoosh, illuminating the calm curve of her lowered brows and eyes.
“Chi Chunxin is just that kind of person; she can start trouble with anybody, and with her around it never gets quiet.” She fussed with the charcoal as she chatted casually. “If you think it’s lively over there, we can go join them, or I can take you for a walk on the ice? We can leave this to Sister Ziyu.”
Jiang Linyue shook her head and let her gaze settle on the softly lit lines of Ye Jianlan’s face.
“No need. I... prefer quiet.” She paused, then lowered her voice a little. “Being with someone like Miss Ye, who doesn’t talk much but is very comfortable to be around, is very nice.”
Ye Jianlan looked up and happened to meet Jiang Linyue’s eyes.
She lifted a brow slightly, a flash of understanding appearing in her gaze. Then she smiled lightly. “Doctor Jiang has a very good eye for people.”
——————
The cold wind parted the gauzy clouds, and stars began peeking out across the velvet night sky.
The aroma of barbecue gradually thinned in the cool air. After everyone ate and drank their fill, they gathered around the still-roaring bonfire, and Chi Chunxin suggested playing Truth or Dare, which immediately got unanimous support.
An empty bottle spun in the center of the moisture-proof mat. Firelight flowed across the glass, drawing everyone’s eyes with it.
The first time, the bottle mouth stopped squarely pointing at Wen Yan.
“Dr. Wen! Choose—Truth or Dare?” Chi Chunxin rubbed her hands together, a mischievous gleam in her eyes; she clearly had something planned.
Wen Yan looked at the circle of smiling, waiting faces around her, especially when her eyes met Jin Zijin’s seemingly calm but actually expectant expression, and her cheeks warmed a little. “...Truth.”
“Good!” Chi Chunxin clapped once and leaned forward. The question blurted out immediately, “When was your first kiss? Exact date!”
The tent fell silent for a moment, leaving only the crackling of charcoal.
Everyone’s attention focused on Wen Yan’s face.
Her face reddened at a visible speed; even her delicate earlobes turned pink.
She lowered her eyelashes and stared at her clasped hands. Her voice was soft, but clear. “This ye... year’s... November 22nd.”
“November 22nd?” Chi Chunxin quickly did the math in her head, then her eyes flew wide. “Wasn’t that your wedding day?”
“My god! Dr. Wen, you... you’re this beautiful, and you actually kept your first kiss until the wedding? And gave it to Jin Zijin?”
She snapped around to Jin Zijin with the expression of someone who had discovered a new continent. “President Jin! Jin Zijin! What incredible luck do you have! You dug up a treasure!”
“Tell us, were you plotting this long ago, just waiting for the wedding day?”
Jin Zijin’s face was also very red, but under Chi Chunxin’s whooping and everyone else’s teasing, that shyness quickly gave way to pride, smugness, and endless softness.
She didn’t deny it; she only lifted her chin and huffed.
The corners of Jin Zijin’s mouth kept rising uncontrollably as she secretly reached out and took Wen Yan’s hand resting on her knee, her fingers slipping between Wen Yan’s to clasp them tightly.
“Yeah. I really am lucky.”
“I’m heaven’s favored daughter. I deserve it.”
Chi Chunxin couldn’t stand seeing her so smug and immediately booed her.
The game continued; the bottle kept spinning.
This time it pointed at Jin Ziyu.
“Truth.” Jin Ziyu smiled brightly, not the least bit intimidated.
Chi Chunxin’s eyes rolled, and the question escalated: “Has Sister Ziyu ever had a one-night stand?”
The question was blunt; there were a few small intakes of breath in the tent, followed by even more excited waiting.
Jin Ziyu raised a brow, thought for a moment, then nodded openly. “Yes.”
“Ooooh!” The jeering exploded at once, mixed with whistles and applause.
Jin Ziyu lifted her wine cup in the midst of all the laughter and took a sip, her manner generous and unhurried; it only made the questioner, Chi Chunxin, look a little embarrassed instead.
The bottle spun again and again. This time, it slowly stopped in front of Ye Jianlan.
Chi Chunxin’s questions were getting bolder and bolder, probing every possible corner. “Where’s your favorite place for intimacy?”
Jin Zijin couldn’t help interrupting, “Why are you asking Lao Ye that? She didn’t even..."
“Who said I’ve ‘never’ dated before?” Ye Jianlan cut off Jin Zijin lightly. She lifted her gaze, swept it over the group, and calmly said two words: “The sofa.”
“..."
After a brief silence, the tent erupted.
“The sofa?!”
“Seriously, Lao Ye?!”
“Lao Ye, you’ve been hiding things!”
“When did you date someone? Who was it? Come on, tell us!”
Cries of shock and questions rose one after another, but Ye Jianlan said no more. She simply picked up the insulated cup in front of her and slowly drank a mouthful of hot water.
No matter how everyone guessed or teased, she only smiled and stayed silent, wearing the air of someone who had already said all she intended to.
Chi Chunxin started jeering at her and even raised her middle finger.
The bottle wobbled around all over the place, swaying back and forth among the crowd, until it finally pointed at Jiang Linyue, who had been especially quiet tonight.
“Doctor Jiang, your turn! Your favorite one-time... um, intimate experience, where was it?” Chi Chunxin changed to a relatively more tactful wording, but the curiosity in her eyes didn’t lessen at all.
Jiang Linyue’s fingers around the wine glass tightened almost imperceptibly.
She lifted her eyes, her gaze sweeping calmly over the crowd, pausing for the briefest instant on Wen Yan’s face, where concern and curiosity both sat. Then she looked away.
When she spoke, her tone was flat, impossible to read. “I’ve been too busy with work. I’ve never dated.”
“Huh?” Chi Chunxin froze, then blurted out, “Is there some kind of school rule in your circle like ‘single-mindedly pursue study, abolish love and romance’? How come Dr. Wen is a lifelong single, and Dr. Jiang, you are too?”
Only after saying it did she realize it was inappropriate, and she hurriedly added, “I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just a little surprised.”
“It’s fine.” Jiang Linyue tugged at the corner of her mouth, revealing a very faint smile. “I’m used to it.”
“Then...” Chi Chunxin couldn’t help asking, “Have you ever liked anyone? A crush counts too!”
Jiang Linyue lifted her eyes. This time, her gaze did not evade; she looked steadily at Chi Chunxin. “That would be a different question.”
The atmosphere froze in a subtle way for a moment.
Ye Jianlan laughed lightly at just the right time and picked up the bottle. “All right, keep spinning. Who’s next?”
The game became lively again.
As the one person with no black marks on her record, Chi Chunxin was completely unrestrained; Jin Ziyu answered every question and remained open and generous.
Ye Jianlan occasionally dropped unexpectedly sharp remarks that led people to imagine all sorts of things.
Jin Zijin had the thinnest skin of anyone there; when faced with overly private questions, she would blush and choose Dare.
And as the only “honest person” in the room, Wen Yan wanted to answer every question too, but her own wife’s face was just too thin-skinned, so she had no choice but to choose Dare as well.
The two of them were punished in turn to imitate cats and read poems in bizarre tones, drawing laughter from everyone again and again.
Even the tension at the corners of Jiang Linyue’s lips loosened slightly in those absurd scenes.
The winter wind howled outside the tent, swirling up snow dust that slapped against the canvas with a rustling sound.
Inside the tent, the charcoal fire burned hot, laughter and chatter rang out, and with the tipsy warmth of wine, no one could feel the severity of the winter night at all.
It wasn’t until three in the morning that everyone finally dispersed with lingering smiles and deep fatigue, returning to their own little patches of warmth.
Wen Yan supported the slightly unsteady Jin Zijin back to their two-person tent.
Jin Zijin’s alcohol tolerance was poor to begin with, and on top of that she’d mixed drinks and been blown by the cold wind. Now she leaned against Wen Yan, feeling hot all over and pleasantly dizzy, extraordinarily obedient.
Thick moisture-proof mats and down sleeping bags had been laid out in the tent.
Wen Yan helped her out of her heavy down coat and boots; Jin Zijin cooperated by lifting her arms and legs, watching Wen Yan bustle about with a hazy gaze. Then she suddenly laughed.
“What are you laughing at?” Wen Yan tucked her into the already warmed sleeping bag, then crawled in herself and turned to face her.
The sleeping bag was very warm. Jin Zijin was so hot that her cheeks were flushed red; her bangs were damp with a thin layer of sweat and clung to her smooth forehead.
She didn’t answer. Instead, she reached out with both hands and cupped Wen Yan’s face.
Her palms were burning hot, carrying the smell of alcohol and a faint, clean citrus finish.
“Wen Yan,” she blinked, her eyelashes looking especially long and dense under the dim tent light; her eyes were moist with drink. “Have you really never liked anyone?”
“Not even back when you were in school?”
Wen Yan let her hold her face, meeting her gaze warmly and shaking her head. “No. You’re the first.”
Jin Zijin narrowed her eyes in satisfaction, like a cat having its fur stroked, though she still tried to act tough. She poked Wen Yan in the chest. “Hmph. You’d better mean that... If I find out...”
“There’s no ‘if.’” Wen Yan cut her off, leaning in a little to press her forehead gently against Jin Zijin’s feverish one. “Only you.”
Jin Zijin didn’t speak anymore; she just looked at her for a long time.
Only then did she speak again, her voice softening, carrying a trace of barely perceptible fragility and dependence. “Then... are you happy being with me?”
“Happy.” Wen Yan answered without the slightest hesitation, her fingertips gently combing through Jin Zijin’s damp temples.
“And when you’re with my friends? Like today?” Jin Zijin pressed, her gaze hiding a careful little search.
“Also happy.” Wen Yan smiled. In the dim light, that smile was especially gentle. “Before, I always felt like I was just an observer, watching other people’s liveliness. But not now.”
She lowered her head and kissed the tip of Jin Zijin’s nose, her voice light but certain. “You’ve opened up your world to me, little by little.”
“Your past, your friends, your joys and worries... I’ve seen them, and I’m walking into them too.”
“So, Zijin, I don’t feel uneasy anymore. I’m very sure that here...” She took Jin Zijin’s hand and gently pressed it against her own chest. “There’s a place for me.”
Jin Zijin stared at her blankly, and her eyes suddenly turned red without warning.
She buried her face at once in Wen Yan’s neck, arms wrapping tightly around her waist, and her muffled voice came out thick with tears and a heavy nasal tone. “Wen Yan, you’re so good.”
Wen Yan held her, feeling the slight trembling of the body in her arms, and her heart softened into warmth.
She patted her back gently, like soothing a child.
After they held each other in silence for a while, Jin Zijin suddenly lifted her head again. Her brows were furrowed and her expression fierce, but paired with her red eyes and nose, it held no real intimidation.
“From now on, I won’t allow anyone to call you cute!” she declared domineeringly.
“Hm?” Wen Yan didn’t react at first.
“Especially Chi Chunxin!” Jin Zijin emphasized, her eyes full of vigilance. “That little troublemaker has been sweet-talking people since she was a kid. She’s got charm after charm; you can’t fall for it! Her saying you’re cute definitely isn’t innocent!”
Only then did Wen Yan understand what she was so bothered by, and she couldn’t help laughing, a low sound shaking through her chest.
She reached up and wrapped an arm around the back of Jin Zijin’s head, pressing her back against her shoulder, smiling as she coaxed her. “Okay, okay. I’ll listen to you.”
She lowered her head, her lips near Jin Zijin’s burning ear. Warm breath brushed over it as she spoke in an even lower voice, full of indulgence and spoiling affection. “From now on, only you can say it; only you.”
Jin Zijin moved in her arms, then finally gave a satisfied huff and settled into the most comfortable position, her breathing gradually becoming long and even.
Outside the tent, the wind still howled; from time to time, the ice on the lake gave off a crisp crack somewhere in the distance.
Inside the tent, the two of them held each other in the quiet, their heartbeats and breathing mingling together, no longer distinguishable from one another.
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[Bear cat head] Hehe, Zijin did it. She really made Wen Yan feel at ease. [head pat]
I’ve got tenosynovitis lately, so I’m only doing two updates every other day now [crying laughter]