Chapter 63
The laughter and splashing beside the hot spring gradually died down. At everyone’s sign of surrender, the ripples spread in widening circles across the water before settling into a languid calm.
Steam billowed upward, tinting every face with a rosy, drowsy warmth.
Chi Chunxin was finally worn out. She leaned back against the smooth pebbles at the edge of the pool, chest rising and falling slightly, a few wet strands of hair stuck to her temple.
She scooped up a handful of water and splashed it across her face, then let out a long breath. “I’m done for... A whole bunch of you ganging up on me like this? That’s too much.”
Jin Ziyu was getting hot too. She climbed out onto the bank and sat down by the pool, leaving only her calves submerged in the warm water.
At that, she chuckled and flicked the surface, sending a few drops of warm water onto Chi Chunxin’s face. “Who told you to start a fight with everyone first?”
“I was setting the mood!” Chi Chunxin muttered indignantly, though her gaze was drawn by a faint buzzing sound overhead.
She looked up, and her eyes lit up at once.
Several silver-gray smart drones, like silent silver butterflies, were hovering steadily toward them.
Beneath each machine, a delicate grab mechanism held a double-layer insulated food box steady.
They landed lightly on the dry wooden platform by the pool, their shock-absorbing pads making no sound on contact, a flawless display of top-tier industrial design.
“Wow—” Chi Chunxin whistled. Forget being tired; she scrambled over on hands and knees, curiously lifting the lid.
Steam and fragrance rushed out at once: Maotai kept warm in a special container, sliced beef shank glistening with sauce, boneless chicken feet, baby octopus, and more...
Dozens of snacks to go with drinks filled the boxes.
“Jin Zijin, you really went all out. Even the delivery is high-tech?”
Chi Chunxin picked up a cup of warmed liquor, then cast a reluctant glance at the drone waiting quietly nearby. “This is great. Buy me a hundred of these later. I can use them as mobile camera rigs when I film outdoors.”
“Buy your own,” Jin Zijin said lazily, not even lifting her eyelids. She was leaning against Wen Yan’s shoulder, her fingers idly twining around a half-dry lock of Wen Yan’s hair. Her tone was soft and warm. “The latest model’s in Hengxing’s mall. If you want one, I’ll give you a two-percent discount.”
Chi Chunxin was immediately furious. “Two percent? You might as well not discount it at all. Evil capitalist!”
She pouted, then turned briskly and handed out cups to everyone. “Fine, I’ll drink first!”
Elegant jade cups tapped together with a crisp, pleasant chime.
The warm liquor slid down the throat, its mellow fragrance blooming in the mouth and warming all the way to the stomach, just enough to offset the hazy flush brought on by soaking in the hot spring for so long.
Chi Chunxin watched as Jin Zijin tipped her head back and drained her cup in one go, and couldn’t help reminding her, “Hey, take it easy. If you get drunk again later, Dr. Wen’s going to have to haul your little tipsy cat back inside.”
“None of your business!” Jin Zijin’s cheeks were already flushed with two rosy patches, making her look even more alluring in the misty steam.
She glared at Chi Chunxin, though there wasn’t much force behind it; she looked more like a bristling cat than anything else.
Wen Yan naturally took the empty cup from her hand, then picked up a chopstickful of sauced beef and held it to her lips, her voice gentle. “It’s fine. I can carry you.”
She said it as casually as if she were commenting on the weather.
With that support, Jin Zijin instantly straightened up with confidence. Chin lifted slightly, she shot Chi Chunxin a smug look that all but said, See?
“Tsk, tsk. Dr. Wen, you spoil her too much.” Chi Chunxin shook her head, though she was smiling. “She was already spoiled rotten, and now with you added in, isn’t she going to fly straight to heaven?”
Wen Yan simply curved her eyes and smiled without speaking, carefully gathering the strands of hair that had slipped off Jin Zijin’s shoulder.
“Then I’ll fly to heaven,” Jin Zijin said around the beef, a little muffled but perfectly righteous. “If you’ve got the ability, go find someone who spoils you this much too.”
Their childish back-and-forth drew laughter from the others.
Jin Ziyu stretched out her long legs and patted the empty space beside her. “It’s cool over here. Anyone want to sit for a while?”
Chi Chunxin’s eyes lit up. She immediately scooted over and rested her head on Jin Ziyu’s thigh, letting out a satisfied sigh. “Ah... As expected, a sister’s thigh is the most comfortable. Soft and springy, way better than some hard-as-a-board ‘iron plate.’”
“Who are you calling an iron plate?” Jin Zijin asked, raising a brow.
“Whoever’s guilty speaks up first.” Chi Chunxin closed her eyes, but the corners of her mouth were lifted.
Jin Ziyu laughed softly, her fingers gently combing through Chi Chunxin’s slightly damp hair. “You and that mouth of yours... How many people’s thighs have you used as pillows to compare like this?”
“Not many, not many,” Chi Chunxin said proudly, giving her head a little shake. “Just seven, eight, maybe nine or ten. I’ve tried all the good-looking ones.”
“Except for one certain someone, who’s so stingy she won’t even let me touch her, afraid my head might crush her precious legs.”
Jin Zijin shot back without mercy, “Why don’t you say your head’s like a solid lead shot? Don’t you have any self-awareness?”
Laughter drifted through the warm air.
At that moment, Ye Jianlan turned to Jiang Linyue beside her and asked with measured curiosity, “Dr. Jiang, I heard from Zijin that your project is looking for a partner?”
Jiang Linyue’s expression turned serious. She nodded, the relaxed posture from earlier drawing in slightly and revealing her professionalism and rigor. “Yes.”
“My team focuses on personalized 3D bioprinting of organs based on artificial intelligence algorithms. We’ve made certain breakthroughs in basic research, but we’ve hit a bottleneck at the stages of clinical translation and large-scale production.”
“The technology reserves the Jin family has in AI computing power and high-end precision manufacturing are exactly what we need.”
She didn’t waste time on pleasantries and went straight to the point.
Ye Jianlan nodded slightly and asked, “What exactly do you need in the cooperation? Besides technical support, do you also have concerns about access and approval?”
The question was so informed it was clear she wasn’t making small talk on a whim.
Jiang Linyue subconsciously glanced at Jin Zijin.
Jin Zijin was holding Wen Yan’s hand, lightly tapping Wen Yan’s palm with her fingertips as she explained on Jiang Linyue’s behalf, “Jianlan works at the National Health Commission. Her family’s elder lady has a great deal of influence in related fields. Her connections are much broader than mine as a pure businessperson, especially when it comes to policy resources and approval channels at higher levels.”
She paused, then added, “For your project, a technical breakthrough is only one part. Ethical review, clinical access, even future reimbursement arrangements; every step involves the official side.”
“With an ‘insider’ leading the way, you can avoid a lot of unnecessary detours and risks.”
A flash of understanding crossed Jiang Linyue’s eyes. She said earnestly to Ye Jianlan, “I see. Then... I’ll have to trouble Miss Ye.”
“Don’t mention it.” Ye Jianlan smiled, her voice steady but reassuring. “If it’s something Zijin and Sister Ziyu both care about, I’ll certainly do my best.”
“But according to procedure, I still need to understand more. Have you previously contacted any other interested parties? For example, the Lu family?”
At the mention of the Lu family, the faintest crease appeared between Jiang Linyue’s brows.
Her tone remained even, but there was a hint of helplessness in it. “We did.”
“The Lu family entered biotech investment very early, and at first they did seem like a suitable partner.”
“But after the deeper negotiations, they became very rigid about the core algorithms and manufacturing processes. Not only did they demand technology sharing, they also tried to dilute our team’s decision-making power and final share of the profits through complicated clauses.”
“In essence, they wanted to borrow a hen to lay eggs, then absorb both the results and the team into their own system.”
“That’s the Lu family’s usual style,” Jin Zijin sneered, her tone openly cold. “Academic compradors; classic old-school scholarly clan behavior.”
“Working with them might get you some resources at first, but in the end you’d only be making a wedding dress for someone else. Your team and your core technology are exactly what they most want to ‘digest.’”
Jiang Linyue silently nodded, confirming Jin Zijin’s judgment. She let out a soft breath, as if setting down some invisible burden. “So we put it aside afterward. Sister Ziyu knew about my difficulties, which is why she suggested I come talk to Zijin.”
“This isn’t actually hard to handle. The key is choosing the right path.” Jin Zijin straightened up. Her eyes, still carrying traces of alcohol, were bright with sober sharpness. “The most stable and efficient route is for you and your core team to settle at Peking University’s medical school or a national biomedical engineering center as high-level talent.”
She spoke at an even pace, her logic clear and orderly, as if she had already thought it through in full: “Jianlan can coordinate on her side and issue an official invitation and a joint-laboratory construction document.”
“The lab equity can be structured like this: the state holds the controlling share to ensure the project’s authority and resource support.”
“My side, Hengxing Group, will contribute cash and part of the AI technology patents in kind to fully fund the necessary cutting-edge equipment, computing support, and subsequent R&D; that accounts for a portion of the technical equity.”
“Your team contributes the existing core technology and personnel, which accounts for another portion.”
“And it has to be made certain that you retain permanent attribution rights for the technology, independent rights over future improvements, and priority profit-sharing rights after commercialization.”
She looked at Ye Jianlan. “That way, the project will have a national-level academic and medical platform behind it. Ethical review and clinical channels can take the green route. Even if the Lu family wants to stick their hands in, they’ll have to think carefully about the weight of what they’re up against.”
Hearing this, Wen Yan looked at Jin Zijin in astonishment. In just a week, had she already sorted out and prepared to implement something this complicated?
That work ability was way too strong.
Wen Yan looked at the bright confidence on her face, eyes full of admiration.
Ye Jianlan pondered for a moment, then asked a very practical question. “This investment scale is no small sum.”
“Can Hengxing’s recent cash flow support such a huge dedicated investment? Especially the customized bioprinting equipment; that stuff is probably astronomical.”
“Preliminary estimates are already done. The available cash flow can just barely cover the initial investment within the safe line,” Jin Zijin answered crisply. “If the subsequent R&D cycle stretches out and there’s a funding gap, Auntie Chi already gave a heads-up. If there’s a suitable strategic project, her Chunxin Capital can step in at any time.”
As she spoke, she glanced at Chi Chunxin, who was lying with her head on Jin Ziyu’s thigh and looking as if she were resting her eyes.
Chi Chunxin didn’t even open her eyes; she just raised a hand and gave a neat OK gesture.
Ye Jianlan understood at once and nodded. “Got it.”
“Then I’ll go back and report the official-side coordination to Grandma in detail. I’ll ask her to make the introduction and connect directly with the person in charge at the relevant department.”
“Senior Jiang,” she said, turning to Jiang Linyue with a changed form of address that carried a little more closeness and gravity, “if you trust our plan, then for now please pause contact with the other institutions.”
“Once I’ve coordinated things on my side, someone will get in touch with you specifically. We’ll proceed step by step and first build the framework for this joint lab in a compliant, solid way.”
Jiang Linyue listened quietly, her gaze passing over Jin Zijin, Ye Jianlan, then the smiling Jin Ziyu and the languid Chi Chunxin who had nonetheless provided the key support.
This was Jin Zijin’s core circle.
This gathering had, in fact, been prepared for her.
Her usually calm eyes, deep as a still pond, stirred with faint ripples.
“Thank you... really, thank you.”
After a pause, Jiang Linyue’s voice dropped lower than usual. “In the six months since I returned to the country, I’ve contacted quite a few universities and institutions.”
“Either they shied away from ethical risks with tactful words; or they kept interrogating the technical details and set harsh conditions; or, like the Lu family, they were full of schemes...”
“I thought business cooperation was always like that; it required long games of negotiation, probing, and weighing one thing against another.”
She paused and shook her head, a complicated smile appearing on her face. “I didn’t expect that here, just a few words would get straight to the point, and even the hardest problems of funding and fallback plans would be settled at the same time.”
She looked at Jin Zijin, her gaze clear. “You really are different from the ‘businesspeople’ I had in mind.”
“What’s different about that?” Jin Zijin raised a brow, picked up her cup, and took another sip, her tone so candid it was almost sharp. “At the end of the day, isn’t it all about the word ‘profit’? I run a company; pursuing profit is only natural.”
Then she changed course and looked at Jiang Linyue, her gaze open and honest. “But if your project succeeds, it will benefit countless patients waiting for organ transplants, and it will push the whole medical industry forward.”
“That’s enormous social value, and it also means broad market prospects.”
“A project that can make money, do good, and let my friend realize her ambitions; why would I have any reason not to go all in?”
“If it were purely unprofitable, I wouldn’t gamble with the foundation of the group, no matter how good our relationship was.”
The only difference was that her calculation of “profit” might be a little longer-term than some people’s, and she was more willing to bear the early risks for people and things truly worth it.
“Did you hear that?” Chi Chunxin finally opened her eyes and gave Jin Zijin a thumbs-up with a bright grin. “That’s the self-cultivation of a top-tier profiteer.”
“Openly loving money, going all-out in action, and still managing to make it sound this beautiful!”
“Much appreciated,” Jin Zijin accepted the praise with ease and raised her cup toward her.
Everyone laughed, and the cups touched lightly again.
The snow outside seemed to be falling even more heavily, silently covering the stone paths and pine branches in the courtyard and tinting the world in a soft white.
Warm spring water, mellow liquor, and conversations built on absolute trust fermented quietly in the winter air.
They chatted a while longer before the alcohol and fatigue rose together.
Seeing that it was late, everyone got up one after another, rinsed off simply in the shower room, then wrapped themselves in bathrobes and stepped over the thin snow on the wooden walkway back to their warmly lit rooms.
The heavy wooden door closed softly behind them, shutting out the flying snow and distant laughter, leaving only the cozy warmth within the suite and each other’s clearly audible breathing.
Wen Yan had barely turned around when Jin Zijin grabbed her wrist.
The woman’s hand was still warm and slightly moist from the hot spring. She lifted it lightly, the tip of her finger pressing, almost absentmindedly, against Wen Yan’s lips to stop the words that were about to come out.
“Hush...” Jin Zijin looked up at her, the room’s soft light reflected in her eyes, along with the last traces of alcohol and something even brighter quietly burning there.
Her breath carried a faint scent of liquor mixed with the distinctive citrus finish on her body, creating a heady, intoxicating allure.
Wen Yan’s lashes fluttered. She swallowed back the question in her throat and only looked at her silently: What is it?
A cunning arc curved at the corner of Jin Zijin’s mouth. She leaned forward and gently pressed Wen Yan between the cool door panel and her own warm body.
Coming close, her warm breath brushed over Wen Yan’s ear and neck like feathers.
Citrus-scented. So fragrant. So sweet.
The woman’s voice was lowered to a whisper, carrying laughter and undisguised desire. “What else...”
She tilted her head, her soft lips nearly brushing Wen Yan’s mouth as her gaze locked onto the other woman’s increasingly misty eyes.
“Of course it’s... to do what we didn’t finish this morning.”
Wen Yan’s heart skipped a beat, then immediately started pounding faster.
Looking at the determined light in her eyes, and those lips made especially red and enticing by alcohol and desire, Wen Yan felt a rush of heat surge up from her lower abdomen; her cheeks and ears burned at once.
All she could smell was that sweet fragrance of the other woman. Almost instinctively, she lifted her chin slightly, wanting to capture that softness right in front of her.
But Jin Zijin suddenly lifted a hand, palm steady against Wen Yan’s shoulder, and pushed her back a little, pressing her once more against the door panel.
“Hey...” Jin Zijin dragged out the word, the light in her eyes burning hotter and more mischievous, like a leopard that had finally corralled the prey it adored into its territory.
She tilted her head slightly, admiring Wen Yan’s fleeting confusion and the thick desire that followed, and her smile deepened.
Jin Zijin lowered her head and rubbed the tip of her nose against Wen Yan’s in a fond gesture, their breaths mingling. “Don’t move.”
She lifted her eyes to Wen Yan, smiling. “This time... let me start.”
As soon as the words fell, Jin Zijin kissed her domineeringly.
She brushed over Wen Yan’s lips, then used the tip of her tongue to pry her way through, kissing deeply.
The instant she fully entered, Jin Zijin raised a hand and, with deft fingers, loosened the belt of Wen Yan’s bathrobe.
A warm palm slid under the open lapel, touching the body she had already drawn countless times in her mind.
Her fingers carried a scorching heat, as though she were admiring the most precious work of art, or patrolling her own territory, tracing down the smooth line from Wen Yan’s shoulders and neck.
She brushed over the hollow of the collarbone, lingered over the tight yet flexible chest muscles, and felt the instant tremor as the skin beneath her palm tensed.
Wen Yan shuddered lightly as if shocked by electricity, a tiny, involuntary whimper escaping her throat.
The last scraps of reason collapsed under Jin Zijin’s deliberately teasing touch.
Wen Yan almost instinctively answered back, wrapping an arm tightly around Jin Zijin’s waist and pulling her closer as her tongue tangled back in turn.
She swallowed eagerly at the other woman’s saliva, twining with the pink tip of her tongue, and the bedroom was soon filled with the faint, ambiguous sounds of wet kisses.
Her free hand hurried to untie the belt of Jin Zijin’s bathrobe; the fabric rustled under her fingers, producing a sound that was enough to make anyone’s heart race.
At last the tie came loose, and the soft cloth slid down over smooth skin, pooling at their feet.
Warm yellow light poured down without obstruction, completely enveloping Jin Zijin.
Jin Zijin pushed her back, tilting her head to look at her with a dazed expression, her lips shimmering wetly.
Wen Yan’s breath caught.
Her eyes widened slightly as she looked at the woman before her, completely naked, her gaze seeming pinned in place.
She moved down inch by inch, from the pearly sheen of her shoulders to the beautifully arched collarbones, then to the fuller curves that trembled faintly in the air.
Lower still, past the flat, taut abdomen, until her eyes came to rest on those long, straight legs, which were now drawn together slightly in nervousness.
Every inch of the body before her was as fine and delicate as the best mutton-fat jade, glowing with a soft luster in the light.
Completely different from Wen Yan’s own body, which was covered in a thin layer of muscle and full of strength, Jin Zijin’s body was another kind of extreme.
Supple, tender, gracefully curved, like a camellia fully unfurling in the night.
Filled to the brim with honeyed sweetness, beautiful enough to take one’s breath away, yet fragile enough to make one hold still.
Too beautiful.
And too sweet.
Just one look was enough to make someone want to swallow her whole.
“You...” Wen Yan heard her own rough voice; her throat tightened, and she suddenly didn’t know how to continue.
It wasn’t the first time she had seen Jin Zijin’s body, but every time she faced it directly, it still brought the same reverent, trembling feeling as the very first time.
Wen Yan stepped forward and placed a hand on her shoulder, her gaze still fixed lower, completely locked onto her.
The rich citrus scent rushed at her, making her head spin.
Jin Zijin’s face was already flushed bright red; even her neck and chest had been tinted with a faint pink.
She had clearly caught Wen Yan’s momentary loss of focus and the dark tide surging in her eyes. Shame flooded up like waves, nearly swallowing her whole.
But that stubborn trace of pride and refusal to back down rose again from within her; she forced herself not to retreat and even lifted her chin slightly.
The woman’s eyes were full of languid seduction, and her voice trembled almost imperceptibly as she asked on purpose, “What? You... don’t like it?”
That sentence, together with her forced calm and watery eyes, became the final straw that completely snapped the string of restraint in Wen Yan’s mind.
“Like it...” Wen Yan’s voice was so hoarse it barely sounded like her own; her gaze was deep as ink that would not dissolve.
The next second, she suddenly bent down, slid one arm under Jin Zijin’s knees and the other behind her back, and with a little force lifted her smoothly into a horizontal carry.
“Ah!” Jin Zijin cried out in surprise, instinctively wrapping her arms around Wen Yan’s neck.
Suspended all at once, with no footing beneath her, all the composure she had been pretending to maintain collapsed in an instant, leaving only the flustered helplessness of being completely handed over.
Wen Yan carried her a few steps to the large king-size bed.
Though her movements seemed urgent, when she set her down they were careful and precious, lowering her gently into the center of the mattress soft as clouds.
The down comforter and fluffy pillows instantly enveloped Jin Zijin, and she sank into a field of pure white softness.
Black hair spread out, skin white as snow, lips parted, eyes unfocused; she was breathtakingly beautiful.
So slender. So soft. She looked exactly like a girl.
Wen Yan was almost going crazy. She knelt forward, pinning her beneath her body, and leaned in to kiss her.
Jin Zijin, recovering from the brief dizziness, realized the situation had completely deviated from the track she had set for it and immediately grew both shy and annoyed.
She hurriedly pressed both hands against Wen Yan’s shoulders and pushed back hard. “Wait... Wen Yan! No... I said, I said I’d go first...”
Her protest was swallowed by the kiss Wen Yan lowered onto her.
The scorching, fervent kiss stole all of Jin Zijin’s breath and thoughts in an instant.
After the kiss eased slightly, Wen Yan pulled back a little, their noses touching, hot breaths mingling.
Looking at the misty, already unfocused eyes before her, Wen Yan said in a husky voice, “I rinsed my mouth.”
Before Jin Zijin could even understand the implication hidden in those words, Wen Yan had already lowered herself again.
This time, her target was clear.
“Mm—!”
Jin Zijin’s whole body shuddered violently, as if a tiny current had struck her spine; her toes curled hard.
All sound was forced deep back into her throat, turning into a broken whimper.
She subconsciously tried to close her legs, but Wen Yan gently and firmly stopped her.
It had been too long... truly too long.
The last time they had been intimate felt as distant as a century ago.
All the desire suppressed by daily busyness, all the heat accumulated through teasing and flirtation, all the surging tides hidden in their exchanged glances were, in this moment, completely ignited by that overly direct yet gentle touch.
Jin Zijin felt like a piece of honey candy thrown into high heat, melting and collapsing uncontrollably from the edges inward.
A numb tingling burst from her tailbone and spread like the finest net through every limb and bone.
Deep in her mind, there was a buzzing blankness, with only overwhelming waves of sensation, one after another, hurling her upward and then crashing her down again.
She was like a tiny boat pitching on stormy seas, with only one mast she could cling to: Wen Yan.
Her fingers unconsciously buried themselves in the hair at the back of Wen Yan’s head, tightening, then loosening, as if trying in vain to hold on to something.
Her body was taut and trembling, silently crying out.
She was going to lose her mind.
At last the suffocating waves receded for the time being, and Jin Zijin went limp all over, as though every bone had been pulled from her body, collapsing weakly into Wen Yan’s arms.
She gasped for breath, chest rising and falling violently, her eyes unfocused, even her fingertips trembling slightly.
Wen Yan lifted her head, lips glossy and eyes dark as the sea before a storm.
She reached out, easily lifting the softened Jin Zijin and adjusting her position so she sank deeper into the stacked down pillows at the head of the bed.
Four fluffy, soft pillows took the full weight of her body, as if she had fallen into a warm white cloud.
Her body was light, soft, and unable to exert even a trace of strength.
But the person towering over her was entirely different.
Wen Yan braced herself above her, the muscles in her arms swelling slightly with effort, the lines clean and flowing.
The strength she usually kept restrained and gentle was fully revealed now; her body temperature was astonishingly high, like a blazing piece of iron, radiating heat and pressure that could not be ignored.
Warm breath fell again, damp and still hot with lingering fervor, brushing over Jin Zijin’s sensitive skin.
There was nowhere to run. Behind her was a soft restraint; in front of her, a scorching cage.
She could only part her legs unwillingly, like a sacrificial lamb, enduring the other woman’s even fiercer kisses.
So hot...
From the inside out, every inch of skin, every nerve, felt like it was being carefully burned and licked by flames.
The warm “rain” fell without pause, and she felt herself already drenched and wet through.
But deep inside, she was unbearably empty, a restless ache of longing rising and falling in waves.
It was too tormenting. Jin Zijin couldn’t help lifting a leg that had gone weak with helplessness and gave Wen Yan’s calf a light, feeble kick.
Her voice trembled with tears as she protested in broken fragments:
“Wen Yan...”
“Wen Yan...”
“Faster... faster...”
Wen Yan stopped, her forehead resting against Jin Zijin’s shoulder, breathing rough and heavy.
She lifted a hand and, gentle yet firm, took hold of the ankle that had kicked at her, guiding it back into place.
Her voice was rough as gravel, the sound of someone trying hard to remain patient while coaxing her: “Once... just once more and it’ll be fine...”
But Jin Zijin couldn’t wait any longer.
The emptiness and desire flooded over her like a tide, almost forcing tears from her eyes.
She pushed messily at Wen Yan’s shoulders, struggling to turn onto her side, stretching out one arm and trembling as she reached for the drawer beside the bed.
“C-change... change hands...” she blurted out incoherently, her cheeks red enough to drip blood. “That... faster...”
Wen Yan followed her gaze and immediately understood what she meant.
Looking at the person beneath her, flushed with desire and on the verge of tears, the string named reason in Wen Yan’s heart snapped completely too, leaving only a wildfire.
She sighed inwardly; she couldn’t tell whether it was helplessness or the moment her self-control finally gave way.
With a long arm, she accurately found the small box.
She held it up before Jin Zijin, her fingertips white from the force, and her voice was deep enough to be unrecognizable. “...You want this, don’t you?”
Jin Zijin didn’t even have the strength to glare at her.
Eyes closed, she kicked her again in embarrassment and urgency, her voice thick with a heavy nasal sound and tears. “D-don’t... don’t talk nonsense...”
Wen Yan said nothing more.
The faint rustle of packaging being torn open was magnified endlessly in the silence of the room, so clear it made one’s ears burn.
Lowering her eyes, her movements slightly hurried but still precise, she prepared everything at last.
Then she leaned down again, her gaze locking onto Jin Zijin’s hazy eyes, and kissed her wet eyelashes. “Be good...”
“Come...”
In the next second, Wen Yan raised an arm to gather Jin Zijin’s shoulders and pulled her into her embrace.
Crying, Jin Zijin whimpered and sank into her arms, lifting her own hands to clutch at the other woman’s shoulders.
She lowered her head and bit Jin Zijin’s ear, and without hesitation, pushed all the way through.
Hands full of slick warmth.
Jin Zijin clutched at the other woman’s shoulders, fingers spread wide, head thrown back like a swan at the edge of death.
Wen Yan bent down, biting the tender flesh at her neck, and murmured in a low voice, “Hold on tight.”
————————
Zijin, don’t be the top anymore. [cracks] See? Now you’re being obedient, aren’t you? [pats head]
TL Note:
making a wedding dress for someone else (为她人做嫁衣) = doing all the work so another party gets the final benefit.
top (1) = the active/dominant partner in Chinese same-sex internet slang.