Chapter 71
Sunday was bright and sunny as well.
A rare spell of good weather, and a holiday besides; morning light filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows, spreading softly across the wool carpet in the living room, while the air itself seemed wrapped in a lazy warmth.
Wen Yan had woken while it was still barely light outside.
Once her body clock pulled her awake, she found she couldn’t quite fall back asleep.
She turned to look at Jin Zijin beside her, still deeply asleep.
The woman was curled slightly, half her face buried in the soft goose-down pillow. Her long lashes cast faint shadows in the dimness, her breathing even and long.
At moments like this, all the sharp edges she wore in daily life fell away; only a quiet softness remained.
Wen Yan’s lips curved unconsciously. She leaned down and pressed the lightest kiss to her forehead, then got out of bed as quietly as she could.
After changing into a dark gray quick-dry workout set, she headed to the gym and, as she did every day, went through two rounds of boxing drills.
When she finished the combination and settled back into stance, Wen Yan adjusted her breathing, wiped the sweat from her temple, and returned to the bedroom to wash up—only to find that Jin Zijin had somehow already woken.
The woman was lying on her stomach on the bed, her right hand kneading the small of her back over and over, her brows faintly drawn together, her expression carrying a trace of fatigue that was easy to miss at first glance.
Morning light spilled in from behind her, making that already slender face look even more drawn.
Wen Yan’s heart tightened, and she hurried over.
“What’s wrong?” She crouched in front of Jin Zijin, looking up at her, her fingertips lightly touching her waist. “Is your back acting up again?”
Jin Zijin hummed in acknowledgment, her voice a little muffled.
Still lying face-down with her back to Wen Yan, she pulled Wen Yan’s hand onto herself. “Here. Rub it.”
The tone was matter-of-fact, almost spoiled.
Wen Yan smiled; her fingers landed right at the waistline and began massaging with just the right amount of pressure.
As the sore muscles eased, Jin Zijin couldn’t help letting out a soft breath of relief.
“I’ve been too busy. I haven’t had time to work out properly lately.” Jin Zijin closed her eyes, both hands draped over the pillow as she spoke lazily. “I stood around for a long time yesterday, so this morning I’m sore all over. Feels like I’ve been filled with lead.”
Wen Yan thought about it, then climbed onto the bed. She straddled Jin Zijin’s waist and sat lightly on her hips, her voice low. “Bear with it.”
“I’m going to loosen it up a bit; it might hurt.”
As soon as she finished speaking, Wen Yan’s hands pressed back onto the small of Jin Zijin’s back with a little more force.
“Ah—”
The pressure was stronger this time, and Jin Zijin drew in a sharp breath.
Her face still buried in the soft pillow, she gripped the down pillow tightly, her whole body tensing despite herself.
Seeing that, Wen Yan leaned down to kiss her ear, coaxing her softly, “Relax… relax…”
“Relax; it’ll be over in a moment…”
“It doesn’t hurt. Relax…”
Her voice was gentle, and because it came in such a hazy, intimate early-morning atmosphere, Jin Zijin’s face burned red just listening.
Very quickly, Jin Zijin’s thoughts drifted somewhere else entirely, and her body really did begin to loosen little by little.
Only after Wen Yan sensed the muscles no longer resisting did she continue her slow, methodical massage.
Her technique was professional, moving from the erector spinae to the quadratus lumborum. Her fingertips first probed gently, finding the knots of tension, then gradually worked deeper, inch by inch smoothing out the tight fibers.
The movements were careful and soothing, as though she were flattening a wrinkled sheet of silk.
The warmth from Wen Yan’s fingertips seeped through the thin loungewear; that heat spread along the sore muscles, and the tension in her body slowly eased away, even the fatigue from the last several days fading by more than half.
“Your technique really is the best.”
Jin Zijin mumbled into the pillow, her voice soft and muffled, stripped of the sharp authority she wore in the business world. She sounded more like a cat that had been petted just right: “Way better than those therapists at the rehab clinic.”
Wen Yan gently helped stretch the side of her waist and laughed. “Different specialties. I’m a doctor, so of course I know how muscles and joints should be worked through.”
She paused, her fingertips lingering a little longer on one especially stiff knot, and her tone turned serious. “You’re already thin to begin with, and your muscle mass isn’t enough. Sitting too long puts a much greater burden on your waist and spine than it does on other people.”
“Massage only treats the symptoms; it doesn’t fix the root problem. You need to strengthen your core and move around more.”
Jin Zijin sounded a little helpless. “I do Pilates too, but I’m still just too busy…”
As she said that, she seemed to think of something. She turned her head just enough to reveal one eye, peeking at Wen Yan from the corner of her pillow.
Morning light fell into her gaze, bringing with it a touch of slyness and anticipation. Her voice stretched soft and sweet, carrying a hint of coaxing: “How about this… Dr. Wen~ Since you’re free on weekends anyway, why don’t you—”
She paused on purpose, then continued, “Take me boxing?”
“You said before that you know how to box, didn’t you? Teach me a couple of moves. It’ll work my core and also let me defend myself; two birds with one stone.”
Wen Yan stopped moving and looked down at her.
Jin Zijin’s eyes were bright and sparkling, full of expectation.
Just like a little cat begging for a treat.
Wen Yan’s heart softened, and a faint smile spread through her eyes. “You want to learn that? Boxing and sanda both require power, and footwork too. It’s pretty tiring.”
“I’m not afraid of tired.” Jin Zijin reached out, took Wen Yan’s hand, and laced their fingers together. Turning her head, she looked at her and said, “With you teaching me, I’d be willing no matter how tiring it is.”
She pulled Wen Yan’s hand close and rubbed her nose against the back of it, continuing in that soft voice, “Besides, how nice would it sound to say I’m learning from my boxer wife?”
“And I learned a bit of self-defense years ago; I’m not a total beginner. I can use it in real situations.”
Wen Yan’s ears warmed from the way she rubbed against her, and when she heard the words “boxer wife,” her cheeks also turned faintly pink.
Helpless yet indulgent, she curved her lips and tapped Jin Zijin’s nose with a fingertip. “All right. I’ll teach you.”
“But first breakfast. Exercising on an empty stomach is hard on the stomach. After we eat, we’ll go to the gym, and I’ll help you practice slowly.”
——
Breakfast at home was always simple but refined.
It was nothing elaborate: steamed yam, eggs, blanched vegetables, and sauced beef; nutritionally complete.
Mi Tang crouched on a dining chair, her amber eyes fixed unblinkingly on the plates. Her tail swished lightly against the back of the chair, and every so often she let out a soft meow, asking to be fed.
Wen Yan picked out a piece of the softest, stickiest yam, carefully broke it up in her palm, and handed it over.
The little one immediately leaned in, her pink tongue curling around it as she ate with obvious delight. When she was done, she even licked Wen Yan’s fingertips in lingering satisfaction.
Jin Zijin held a spoon and watched the interaction between woman and cat, her eyes curving with a smile.
Her expression was gentle, like a spring lake lightly rippled by the wind.
A quiet morning like this; abundant food, a soft and adorable cat, and the person at her side was the one she cherished most. No clinking glasses, no profit calculations; only the simplest warmth and peace.
That made her feel steadier than any grand banquet, any expensive delicacy ever could.
“What are you looking at?” Wen Yan noticed her gaze and looked up.
“At you.” Jin Zijin said it naturally, then brought the half egg she hadn’t finished eating to Wen Yan’s lips. “Taste it. Soft, but still with a little bite.”
Wen Yan ate from her hand and nodded. “Mm, there’s still a little runniness in the center. Looks like I boiled it just right today.”
Breakfast was eaten at an unhurried pace.
The two of them spoke in low voices from time to time; Jin Zijin mentioned a difficult partner she had to deal with before year-end, and Wen Yan mentioned a medical-school academic seminar next week. Jin Zijin immediately asked whether she needed a car arranged.
The topics were trivial and ordinary, yet the intimacy in them was especially grounding.
——
After breakfast, once they’d had a bit of time to digest, they changed into light sportswear, went into the gym, and began their lesson.
Wen Yan first wrapped Jin Zijin’s boxing hands.
She took Jin Zijin’s hand and, with her eyes lowered in concentration, wound the white bandage around her wrist and knuckles in neat layers.
The movements were meticulous and serious, and her fingertips occasionally brushed the inner side of Jin Zijin’s wrist, making Jin Zijin’s heart itch so much she couldn’t help curling her fingers.
“Don’t move.” Wen Yan spoke softly, holding her fingers in place. “If the wraps aren’t tight enough, it’s easy to injure the joints when you train.”
So Jin Zijin obediently stayed still and let herself be handled, though her gaze fell on Wen Yan’s lowered lashes.
Wen Yan’s lashes were long and dense, casting a small shadow beneath her eyes; they trembled faintly with her focused movements.
No matter how many times she saw it, Jin Zijin still thought the eyes of this person were truly beautiful.
If they ever had a daughter, she’d want the child’s eyes to look like hers…
Jin Zijin rarely let her thoughts wander. Just then, Wen Yan said, “All right.”
With one clean final knot, Wen Yan looked up and smiled. “Try it. Too tight or not?”
Jin Zijin flexed her wrist. The wraps fit perfectly, protecting the joints without restricting movement.
She nodded. “Just right.”
“Then let’s start with the basic stance.” Wen Yan stepped back two paces and stood facing her, naturally settling into a guard. “Feet shoulder-width apart, left foot in front, right foot behind, lower your center of gravity—”
As she explained, she demonstrated; her posture was so standard it looked like it had come straight out of a textbook. “Hands up by your cheeks, elbows tucked in, chin slightly lowered, eyes looking forward.”
Jin Zijin copied her stance.
The self-defense foundation she’d learned years ago was clearly still there; her stance was steady, her center of gravity lowered exactly right, much better than the wobbling of a total beginner.
A flash of surprise crossed Wen Yan’s eyes. She walked around her once and reached out to lightly adjust her shoulder angle.
“Not bad.” Her praise was sincere. “Your foundation is better than I expected. Tighten your waist and abdomen a little more; yes, just like that.”
Next came the straight punch.
Wen Yan moved to her side, one hand steadying her waist and the other holding her fist. “You don’t throw a punch with arm strength alone; you have to drive it from your feet, through the waist, send it through the shoulder, and then out through the fist.”
She guided Jin Zijin through it in slow motion. “Look: push off the ground, turn the waist, drive the shoulder… then send the punch out.”
Jin Zijin drew a breath and followed Wen Yan’s instructions, her core suddenly engaging with force.
Her right fist shot out like an arrow released from a bow.
The punch was crisp and clean, striking the sandbag with a dull, solid thud.
The sandbag swayed. The force behind it was real, nothing at all like a beginner’s weak softness.
Wen Yan’s eyes lit up.
“Beautiful!” she blurted, her brows and eyes curving with honest praise. “The transfer from waist to shoulder was seamless, and you found the power point really well.”
“That punch has more force than a lot of people who’ve trained for months.”
Hearing her praise, Jin Zijin’s eyes immediately brightened, as if stars had fallen into them.
A proud smile lifted her lips, her chin rising a little. “Of course. Who do you think taught me?”
That smug little expression made Wen Yan’s heart soften completely.
She restrained the urge to kiss her and kept teaching. “Again, left fist. Pay attention to defense; keep the elbow covering the ribs.”
Jin Zijin adjusted her posture and followed with the left.
The attack was crisp, and the defense didn’t fall behind; her elbow stayed close to her body, offense and defense both in place, already looking somewhat like real combat.
Wen Yan stood opposite her, occasionally lifting a hand to correct her shoulder line, guiding her in a low voice:
“Yes, just like that.”
“Keep the defense tighter.”
“Exhale when you punch. Good, your breathing rhythm is very good.”
“This one is steadier.”
Her voice was gentle and patient, full of indulgence and appreciation.
Under that voice, Jin Zijin became more and more absorbed in the training. Fine beads of sweat appeared at her temples, her cheeks flushed with the healthy red of exercise, and her eyes grew brighter and brighter.
After a few rounds of basic punches, Jin Zijin panted slightly, her chest rising and falling, but her enthusiasm hadn’t diminished at all.
She stepped forward half a pace, lifted her chin at Wen Yan, and said with a little challenge in her tone, “Teacher Wen, basic drills are boring.”
“Why don’t you spar with me for real? Just touch-and-go, no actual hitting.”
Seeing the excitement in her eyes, Wen Yan felt as if she were looking at a little leopard eager to pounce.
Amused and softened at once, she nodded. “All right, I’ll spar with you. But remember, keep it measured. Don’t hurt yourself.”
The two stood opposite each other in the center of the gym.
Wen Yan relaxed her stance, her feet light as if she were merely standing there casually, yet every angle of her body carried the steadiness of an experienced sanda practitioner.
Jin Zijin steadied herself, hands guarding her face, and began probing with punches.
Straight punch, swing punch, hook.
Her control of rhythm was excellent; the attacks were unhurried, yet every time they aimed precisely at the gap in Wen Yan’s defense.
Wen Yan only defended and didn’t counter; she shifted or blocked, neatly avoiding every strike, like a leaf moving with the wind. However fierce the punches came, she remained light and calm.
But she didn’t forget to praise her.
Every time Jin Zijin landed a beautiful punch, she never skimped on praise.
“That swing punch had a great angle, and your footwork stayed tight.”
“Your straight punch was faster and more accurate; your explosive power has improved again.”
“Your defensive awareness is very good; you didn’t forget to protect your head.”
Each sincere compliment fell into Jin Zijin’s heart like honey.
She grew more and more immersed, her offense gradually sharpening; her punches became fiercer and fiercer, yet she always kept her measure, drawing each blow back the instant before it touched Wen Yan.
Too focused, the woman bit her lower lip slightly; beads of sweat slowly rolled down from her temples, making her look especially vivid and alive.
Especially those bright eyes of hers; the brilliance in them could not be hidden at all.
Wen Yan looked at this aggressively gorgeous version of her and felt her own heart thump wildly.
Good heavens.
Her wife really was beautiful no matter when she looked at her!
So serious, so cute, and so tempting to tease.
And so, when Jin Zijin threw another straight punch, Wen Yan suddenly shifted sideways, her wrist darting out like a snake and lightly catching Jin Zijin’s punching wrist.
At the same time, her foot hooked gently behind Jin Zijin’s leg and took her completely off balance.
Her movements flowed like water, gentle yet decisive, all of it happening in a single instant.
Jin Zijin only felt her center of gravity vanish. Before she could even cry out, her whole body was already falling toward Wen Yan.
Wen Yan was prepared; she opened her arms and caught her steadily, one palm supporting the small of her back, holding her securely in her embrace.
The two fell together onto the soft yoga mat.
Jin Zijin lay on her back in Wen Yan’s arms, hair scattered, cheeks flushed red from exercise, breathing slightly uneven.
When she looked up, she met Wen Yan’s smiling eyes; they held warmth, and a slyness that said she’d gotten away with something.
Looking down at the person in her arms, Wen Yan gently brushed away the thin sheen of sweat at her temple and tucked several damp strands behind her ear.
With a faint, breathy laugh, she said in a low and spoiled voice, “You lost, President Jin.”
Jin Zijin blinked, recovering from her brief daze.
She wasn’t annoyed at all; instead, she lifted a hand to hook around Wen Yan’s neck and tug her down a little, a triumphant smile curving her lips. “Even losing is worth it.”
She leaned close to Wen Yan’s ear, her breath warm, her voice lowered and hazy with flirtation. “Getting to fall like this into Coach Wen’s arms; no matter how you look at it, that’s no loss.”
Wen Yan couldn’t help laughing, her chest shaking.
She lowered her head, her nose lightly brushing Jin Zijin’s. Their warm breaths tangled together, fragrant and sweet.
Citrus, maybe?
Wen Yan lowered her head a little more and kissed Jin Zijin’s lips.
Jin Zijin tilted her head back to respond, fingers sliding into Wen Yan’s sweat-damp hair as she deepened the kiss.
The two of them clung to each other on the yoga mat, the white light overhead falling over them, making the scene burn with warmth.
After a long while, Wen Yan finally pulled back slightly, their foreheads resting together as both of them panted softly.
“Actually,” Wen Yan said in a low voice, her fingertips tracing Jin Zijin’s reddened cheek, “you were really beautiful just now when you punched. So sharp, so steady, and especially… captivating.”
She said the last two words very softly, like feathers brushing the heart.
Jin Zijin’s eyes flickered.
She tightened her arms, hugging Wen Yan’s waist and refusing to let go, burying her face in the crook of her neck like a big spoiled cat.
Rubbing her nose against Wen Yan’s skin and breathing in her scent, Jin Zijin coaxed, “Then keep me company every day from now on.”
She lifted her head, eyes shining as she looked at Wen Yan, her voice carrying an unmistakable possessiveness. “Every morning from now on, we have to be together like this.”
Seeing her like that, Wen Yan’s heart melted.
She lowered her head and pecked her lips once more before smiling and answering, “Okay.”
——
The two of them stayed on the mat for quite a while longer before finally getting up at a leisurely pace.
The practice after that lost its intensity and became nothing more than small, playful exchanges between lovers, with Wen Yan teaching Jin Zijin a few simple grappling techniques while Jin Zijin learned seriously, only to “accidentally” slip and drag Wen Yan into her arms whenever Wen Yan demonstrated.
Sweat dampened their clothes, clinging to their bodies and outlining smooth lines.
They stayed close together, but it didn’t feel sticky; on the contrary, they both enjoyed that damp, lingering tenderness.
After playing for an hour and a half, Jin Zijin finally grew tired of it, and Wen Yan carried her upstairs to shower.
After a hot shower, they changed into loose home clothes.
Their hair was only half dry, draped loosely over their shoulders, and they came back downstairs.
The two of them curled up on the oversized sofa in the living room, neither of them wanting to move.
The morning sun was just right, warm and bright as it poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting pools of light across the carpet.
Mi Tang jumped onto the sofa and found a comfortable spot between them, curling into a little ball on her back and exposing her pink paw pads.
With eyes half-closed, she let the two of them take turns rubbing under her chin, purring loudly in her throat like a tiny engine.
Jin Zijin played with the little one for a while, then looked up at Wen Yan. “Since we’ve got nothing else to do, let’s build LEGO!”
Wen Yan blinked, curious. “LEGO? Are we going out to buy some now?”
Jin Zijin smiled slyly. “No need. We already have some at home. Wait here; I’ll go get it.”
At home?
Under Wen Yan’s puzzled gaze, Jin Zijin stood up and took out an unopened LEGO box from the storage cabinet below the wine cabinet.
Wen Yan’s eyes widened at once. “When did you buy that?”
She had no idea at all.
Jin Zijin smiled in satisfaction. “I bought it a long time ago and just had Zhou Ayi bring it over. I just never got around to building it.”
She carried it over and set it down on the carpet. “It’s a space station model. The numbering is complicated, and there are more than three thousand pieces. I really like it.”
Looking at the deep blue box, with its glittering nebulae and futuristic space station printed on it, Wen Yan understood immediately.
She lowered her gaze to the intricate structural diagram on the box and raised a brow. “Looks hard. Can we finish it today?”
“No rush. We can build it slowly.”
Jin Zijin tore open the packaging, poured dozens of separate bags of pieces onto the coffee table, and took out the thick instruction manual. “It’s fine. If not today, then tomorrow. We have plenty and plenty of tomorrows; we can always make time to play.”
The word tomorrow sounded far too tempting.
Wen Yan couldn’t help smiling. “All right.”
The two of them leaned close together and began from the very first step, following the instructions.
Jin Zijin was in charge of finding the pieces; Wen Yan, under her guidance, handled the assembly.
Tiny plastic pieces made soft clicking sounds between their fingers. Dust drifted in the sunlight, and time seemed to stretch long and slow.
It was Wen Yan’s first time building one, so she wasn’t quite used to it. Fortunately, she was smart, and her hands were quick and precise; after Jin Zijin taught her only a couple of times, she was already able to do it herself.
She was so fast and so good that Jin Zijin was quite startled. “My goodness, you’re too smart. You learn in one go; you’re a natural-born master builder.”
Wen Yan didn’t quite understand the term and asked, “What does master builder mean?”
Jin Zijin coughed softly and explained, “It means someone who’s really good at building models.”
“Oh, oh, oh…”
The two of them leaned together like kindergarten children, playing carefree and content.
Nearby, Mi Tang was drawn to the scattered pieces on the carpet and reached out a paw to bat at them, only for Wen Yan to gently tap it away.
“This isn’t for playing with.” She spoke softly, then picked up a small piece of freeze-dried snack from the coffee table, opened it, and handed it to the cat. “Eat this.”
The little one immediately abandoned the pieces, clutched the snack, and gnawed happily, finally settling down.
Time flowed on slowly.
Occasionally a helicopter would pass overhead outside, making the quiet indoors feel even quieter.
No work calls, no email alerts, no social obligations to deal with, no other people’s eyes.
Only the two of them and a cat, plus a table full of LEGO pieces, with sunlight and tenderness flowing through the whole room.
When Jin Zijin grew tired of building, she leaned back against Wen Yan’s shoulder and watched her focused profile.
Sunlight fell on Wen Yan’s lashes, casting tiny shadows.
Her gaze was fixed earnestly on the instruction manual, her fingers sorting through the pile of pieces. Occasionally she would frown slightly, only to smooth it away again in the next instant.
Focused and calm, warm and quiet; she had a grounding power about her.
Watching her, Jin Zijin suddenly thought of what Wen Yan had said in the car the previous night.
“Meeting you is the greatest luck of my whole life.”
But for her, wasn’t it the same?
What had life been like before?
Endless documents, endless overtime, negotiations, games of strategy; it all felt like an unending battle.
She had been born a conqueror. She enjoyed that feeling of waging war; she liked controlling everything, looking down on the whole world.
Until Wen Yan appeared.
At that moment, Jin Zijin had inexplicably felt that a swallow had suddenly appeared in her iron forest.
This swallow had flown into her world without knowing, spread her wings freely, and soared into the sky.
So soft, so small, so bright, so alive, and so free.
Sunlight fell across her free wings, making every feather glint.
A swallow…
My swallow…
Stay.
Don’t just fly past; build a nest in my world.
I want to see you at every moment; I want to be with you every second.
Thinking this, longing this, she used her own cold strands of light to build a nest within her mechanical kingdom.
The instant the nest was finished, the entire cold, iron world seemed to close in and gather together, becoming a towering giant.
She became the steel giant from a fairy tale, reaching out a hand to the flying swallow and saying, “I have a nest here that can shelter you.”
“I can also carry the whole world and fly with you.”
“Are you willing to land here with me, and walk forward together?”
Fortunately… the swallow said yes.
TL Note:
sanda (散打) = a Chinese full-contact martial art, roughly akin to kickboxing.