Chapter 77
After New Year’s Day, life seemed to wind itself up like a clock and start racing ahead.
Wen Yan was fine; she still lived by her usual routine. But Jin Zijin was completely swept up in work.
With the new year just beginning, three major Hengxing Technology projects launched at once. As the woman at the helm, she was flying everywhere, north and south, one meeting after another; her schedule was packed so tightly there wasn’t a gap left in it.
Sometimes, late at night, Wen Yan would send her a message. What came back was often a shot of an airport lounge in the dead of night, or the unfamiliar city lights outside a hotel window.
Compared to her, Wen Yan’s life was practically leisurely.
In the blink of an eye, the days had rolled into the end of January.
That Wednesday, Wen Yan had stayed up all night assisting with a major surgery. By the time she came off the table, it was already dawn. She got home, collapsed into bed, and when she woke again, dusk had already fallen outside the window; the clock on the wall pointed to seven.
She sat up under the blanket, dazed for a moment before the sleep finally began to lift.
The bedroom was quiet. Only Mi Tang was curled at the foot of the bed; hearing movement, it lifted its head and gave a soft meow.
Wen Yan curved her lips, reached out to rub the little cat’s head, then got up and climbed out of bed.
As usual, she went through a set of punches. After washing up, she carried the meowing Mi Tang toward the island counter.
The ingredients Auntie had delivered from the refrigerator were stacked neatly. She took out a few and heated them in the microwave.
After marriage, Wen Yan rarely cooked for herself.
Auntie came by every two days with cooked food. If Wen Yan wanted to eat, she just had to take it out of the refrigerator and warm it up.
The microwave dinged. Wen Yan took out the heated beef, sliced it thinly, and arranged it on a white porcelain plate. Mi Tang crouched on the counter, head tilted up to watch her, its eyes round and bright.
Wen Yan pinched a slice of beef and held it to its mouth.
The kitten leaned in and nibbled it in tiny bites, whiskers trembling. Watching it like that, Wen Yan couldn’t help smiling.
Just then, the fingerprint lock at the front door gave a soft beep.
Something stirred in Wen Yan’s heart; she looked up on reflex.
The door opened.
Jin Zijin stood at the entrance, wearing a champagne-colored evening dress, a matching long coat draped over it. Her hair was pinned into an elegant bun, and she was still in slender high heels.
She looked exhausted, dust and weariness clinging to her brow and eyes; but the moment she saw the warm yellow light inside the house, that fatigue softened away.
Wen Yan’s eyes widened. “Zijin?”
She called out, already striding across the living room and moving quickly to the entryway. Mi Tang leaped from her arms onto the shoe cabinet, its tail brushing lightly over the surface, but she didn’t even have time to care. Her eyes were only for the person in front of her.
“Why are you back?” Wen Yan’s voice was full of surprise, and beneath it, impossible to hide delight.
Jin Zijin looked at her and gave a tired smile, opening her arms. “Aren’t you going to hug me?”
Wen Yan’s chest warmed. She bent down and lifted her up in one smooth motion. With her fingertips she slipped off those delicate high heels, then carried her steadily into the living room and set her on the sofa.
Jin Zijin immediately curled into her arms.
She buried her nose in Wen Yan’s freshly washed hair, inhaling deeply, then rubbed her warm cheek against Wen Yan’s face. Her voice was soft and syrupy. “You took a shower?”
Wen Yan answered in a low hum. “Mm. Just finished.”
Jin Zijin reached up and held her face, fingertips gently stroking behind her ear. She cupped Wen Yan’s face and leaned in, taking a deep breath; then her eyes curved. “Mm... you smell so good.”
She paused and sniffed again, the corners of her eyes lifting. “It’s that scent.”
Wen Yan couldn’t help laughing.
She tightened her arms, holding her close.
With so little time together this past month, moments like this, when they could cling to each other like this, felt as though they had been separated by a century.
Wen Yan buried her face in the crook of Jin Zijin’s neck, breathing in the faint scent of perfume mixed with the dusty trace of long-distance travel. Her heart was somehow completely, solidly full.
Jin Zijin’s slender, soft body was tucked into her arms, like a tired bird returning to its nest. Warmth surged through Wen Yan’s chest; she tightened her hold again, wishing she could make up for all the time they’d spent apart.
They just held each other quietly like that, neither of them speaking.
The living room was still, with only Mi Tang padding over from the entryway. It hopped lightly onto the sofa arm and tilted its head at them.
After a long while, Wen Yan lifted Jin Zijin’s face gently.
Her fingertips brushed the faint bluish shadow beneath Jin Zijin’s eyes; it was faint, but it still carried the mark of days spent on the road.
Wen Yan felt a small pinch in her heart. Her voice grew even softer. “Just off the plane? Hungry? I just heated up some dishes. Want to eat a little together?”
Jin Zijin rubbed against her again, showing a rare bit of spoiled behavior. “Okay.” She paused, then looked up at her. “Then feed me.”
Wen Yan’s eyes softened. “Alright.”
She was just about to get up when Jin Zijin lifted a finger and lightly hooked the button of her pajamas.
She kept it hooked, refusing to let go. Her eyes were wet and looking up at her, saying nothing, and yet saying everything.
Wen Yan’s heart melted.
With a helpless, indulgent smile, she bent down and lifted her again. She carried her back to the island counter, let Jin Zijin lean against her, and freed one hand to bring over the sliced beef and the warmed dishes.
Then she carried her back to the living room sofa. The two of them clung together, unwilling to separate even half a step.
It had been too long since they’d seen each other.
All the longing stored up in their hearts surged out at once, dense and tangled, making one’s chest go soft.
The days when they couldn’t meet carried even the ache of longing with a little grievance in it.
Now that the person was in her arms, leaning against her, pressed close to her, those empty days finally felt as though they had somewhere to settle.
Wen Yan picked up her chopsticks and fed a slice of beef to Jin Zijin’s lips.
Jin Zijin obediently opened her mouth and chewed in small bites, but her eyes never left Wen Yan. The light fell across her face, and those eyes shone bright, holding Wen Yan’s complete reflection.
Wen Yan’s heart went soft at the sight. She lifted another bite and fed it to her.
After she had fed her only about half a portion, Jin Zijin shook her head and refused to eat any more, choosing instead to stay draped over her. Wen Yan didn’t force it and quietly finished the rest of the food herself.
The moment she set down the bowl and chopsticks, Jin Zijin reached out to hook an arm around her shoulder and rested her chin in Wen Yan’s neck. Her voice was soft. “Shall we go take a bath?”
Wen Yan’s heart gave a jolt. She nodded at once. “Okay.”
She bent down and carried Jin Zijin up steadily, walking with careful steps toward the bathroom in the master bedroom on the second floor. She didn’t want to let go once along the way, as if releasing her even a little would make her fly away.
——————
The bathroom was bathed in warm yellow light.
Wen Yan adjusted the water temperature first, then carefully set Jin Zijin down. Gently, she helped her out of the evening dress and coat stained with the dust of travel.
Warm water began to fall.
Holding the showerhead, Wen Yan let it stream slowly over Jin Zijin’s shoulders. Water slid down her smooth skin, washing away the fatigue of the road.
Her fingertips lightly brushed the tense line of Jin Zijin’s neck and shoulders, the pressure gentle and exactly right.
After rinsing away the foam, she lifted her into the bathtub filled with warm water.
The water came up just enough to cover her waist and abdomen; warmth seeped into the skin inch by inch. Wen Yan crouched beside the tub, tested the temperature once more, then placed her palm on Jin Zijin’s nape.
Her fingertips kneaded gently.
Days of meetings, sitting too long, and long-haul flights; the stiff muscles gradually loosened under her touch.
From the nape down to the shoulders, then slowly along the slender spine. Wen Yan’s fingertips carried warmth, working methodically to ease out every knot of soreness.
Her movements were familiar and practiced. She knew exactly where Jin Zijin was most tired and where she needed relief the most.
Jin Zijin lay against the edge of the tub, cheek resting on the smooth ceramic, eyes half-closed. She let out a soft, comfortable sigh.
“You’re still the best at massage...” Her voice was lazy and content, with a soft little lilt to it.
Wen Yan curved her lips, her hands never stopping. She leaned in close and pressed her lips lightly against Jin Zijin’s ear, warm breath spilling over that thin skin.
“How about this?” she asked in a low voice. Her fingertips moved slowly up from the spine, tracing circles along the curve of the shoulder blade. “Does that feel better?”
Jin Zijin shrank her shoulders with a laugh and turned to look at her. In the mist of steam, those eyes were bright, filled with teasing amusement.
“Why don’t you keep going a little higher?”
As she said that, she took Wen Yan’s hand and guided it inch by inch upward, until it finally rested over her own chest.
Under her palm, her heartbeat was pounding hard and fast.
Jin Zijin lowered her voice, the corners of her eyes lifting like a fox that had just gotten its way. “Like this?”
She was seducing her.
Wen Yan understood.
She lifted her eyes to Jin Zijin and said nothing; she just bent down and kissed her.
The instant their lips met, it felt as if the steam in the bathroom had solidified, frozen in place.
Wen Yan’s kiss carried a touch of ferocity, as if she wanted to press all the longing of the past month into it. Jin Zijin lifted her arms to loop around her neck, answering with equal heat and greed.
They kissed for a long time before Wen Yan finally pulled back a little.
Their breathing tangled together, wet and hot. Jin Zijin’s lips were glossy with water, and her eyes were too; she looked at Wen Yan in a dazed, hazy way.
Seeing her like that, Wen Yan’s throat tightened slightly. She took a deep breath and said with a tremor in her voice, “This isn’t really a good place.”
She paused, then brushed Jin Zijin’s flushed cheek with her fingertips. “You’ve been busy all week. I want you to feel comfortable.” Her voice was low, held in restraint. “Let’s go to the bed.”
Jin Zijin blinked, a trace of dissatisfaction flashing in her eyes.
But Wen Yan had already lifted her out of the bathtub, wrapped her in a towel, and carried her away in one smooth motion.
Jin Zijin looped her arms around Wen Yan’s neck and muttered something under her breath. Wen Yan couldn’t make it out, and she didn’t have time to care.
She carried Jin Zijin back to the bedroom, set her down by the bed, then turned to fetch the hairdryer.
Hot air roared softly.
Wen Yan stood behind Jin Zijin, threading her fingers through the wet strands of her long hair, drying them section by section. The hair gradually fluffed out between her fingers, glimmering with a soft sheen.
Just then, a hand reached over.
Without knowing when, Jin Zijin had turned around and lightly hooked a finger into the tie of Wen Yan’s bathrobe; with one pull, the robe parted, revealing the smooth skin beneath.
Wen Yan’s hand on the hairdryer paused.
Jin Zijin tilted her head up to look at her, mischief glinting in her eyes. Then she reached out, wrapped her arms around Wen Yan’s waist, and buried her whole face against Wen Yan’s warm abdomen.
Wen Yan looked down on reflex and saw Jin Zijin stick out the tip of her pink tongue, licking up like a cat.
Wen Yan’s whole body shuddered.
An electric, tingling sensation spread from that spot, climbing from her waist and abdomen to her chest, where it lingered and spun.
The current surged through her entire body, racing up along her spine. Wen Yan’s fingers around the hairdryer tightened at once, her breathing turning rougher in response. But Jin Zijin didn’t stop.
Her lips and teeth lingered on that patch of skin, nibbling gently, biting slowly, and from time to time brushing over it with her tongue. Wen Yan looked down at her, seeing only the fluffy crown of her hair and the triumphant curve at the corner of her mouth.
Grinding her teeth, Wen Yan forced herself to move away with the hairdryer still in hand.
Yet Jin Zijin seemed determined to make trouble. Wherever Wen Yan shifted, Jin Zijin followed, pressing her lips and teeth to her skin all the while, teasing her again and again.
The numbness grew denser and denser.
Wen Yan’s legs went a little weak, and the hand holding the hairdryer started to shake. She took one deep breath, then another; only after a while did she finally dry the last strands.
The hairdryer hit the floor with a muffled thud.
In the next second, Wen Yan shoved Jin Zijin’s shoulder and pinned her into the soft bedding.
She kissed her.
Fiercely, greedily, with desire suppressed for far too long. Her lips and teeth ground over Jin Zijin’s, her tongue slipping inside to stir everything up and steal her breath.
Jin Zijin was kissed until she couldn’t catch her breath and reached up to pat Wen Yan’s shoulder.
Wen Yan eased back a little so she could breathe, but her hands didn’t stop. The bathrobe tie had come loose even further; her palm pressed against that warm skin, kneading, rubbing, with a hint of deliberate force.
“Weren’t you pretty good at teasing me just now?” Wen Yan’s voice was low and hoarse, brushing against her ear. “So what now?”
Jin Zijin panted, her cheeks flushed red, the corners of her eyes too. She wanted to say something, but Wen Yan sealed her lips again.
Wen Yan repeated everything Jin Zijin had just done, only more excessive.
The kiss spread from her lips to behind her ear, from behind her ear to the side of her neck, and then downward. Her fingertips lingered on that skin, kneading, pinching lightly, stirring wave after wave of shivers.
Jin Zijin’s breathing grew faster and faster, her body softer and softer. She lifted her hands to cling to Wen Yan’s shoulders, fingers sinking into the tight muscle there, as if clinging to the only driftwood in sight.
Watching her like that, a dark glint flashed in Wen Yan’s eyes.
She didn’t give Jin Zijin much time to prepare.
The instant Jin Zijin’s breathing faltered in a daze, Wen Yan’s fingertips slipped inside.
Jin Zijin trembled all over, a soft cry slipping from her throat. Wen Yan didn’t stop; her fingers curled slightly, and she began to move slowly.
Once, twice, three times.
Jin Zijin’s breathing became more and more disordered, her body starting to quiver uncontrollably.
She bit down on her lower lip, trying to force those sounds back, but Wen Yan simply wouldn’t let her have her way.
Her movements suddenly deepened, grinding over a certain spot.
“Hng...”
The cry burst out before Jin Zijin could stop it, and her face went red all at once.
Wen Yan bent down and kissed the corner of her lips, a low smile in her voice. “Wasn’t this what you wanted?”
Jin Zijin shot her a glare, but her eyes were misted over and carried no real threat at all. Looking at her, Wen Yan’s heart softened completely, though her movements didn’t stop; if anything, they sped up.
Jin Zijin’s body tensed.
She reached out and grabbed Wen Yan’s arm with all her strength, fingertips digging into flesh, broken whimpers escaping her throat. That string stretched tighter and tighter.
And just before it was about to snap, the phone on the bedside table suddenly rang.
Ring ring ring——
The shrill ringtone cut through the room’s heated atmosphere.
Wen Yan’s movements froze at once.
She was on her knees over Jin Zijin, unable to move forward or back, frozen there in embarrassing silence.
Her fingertips were still there, warm and wet, but she couldn’t tell whether to continue or pull away.
Jin Zijin opened her eyes and looked at her, still breathing hard.
They stared at each other for a second.
A teasing smile flashed through Jin Zijin’s eyes. She gave Wen Yan’s shoulder a light push, her voice still soft from her panting. “Answer it...”
Wen Yan took a deep breath.
She closed her eyes, then opened them again, slowly withdrawing her hand.
Her fingertips glistened wetly under the light. She didn’t have time to wipe them; instead, she hurriedly pulled the blanket over Jin Zijin, then reached over to grab the phone from the bedside table.
The screen flashed with a name: Department.
Wen Yan answered in a low voice, “Hello?”
The on-call doctor on the other end sounded anxious. “Dr. Wen, there’s a multiple-trauma case in the ER. Dean Wang Fu says you need to come...”
Wen Yan listened, but her gaze was on Jin Zijin.
Wrapped in the blanket, Jin Zijin only showed a pair of eyes, looking at her with a sparkling brightness. There was no dissatisfaction in those eyes, no annoyance; only teasing amusement, and a little bit of... schadenfreude?
Wen Yan let out a helpless sigh. “Got it. I’ll be there right away.”
She hung up, then looked down at Jin Zijin.
Jin Zijin blinked and said in a muffled, smiling voice, “Go on, Dr. Wen.”
Wen Yan bent down and kissed her hard on the lips. “Wait for me to come back.”
Jin Zijin curved her eyes. “Mm.”
Wen Yan stood up and quickly got dressed.
Right before leaving, she turned back to look once more. Jin Zijin was still wrapped in the blanket, only her face showing, and she waved at her.
Wen Yan laughed, then turned and left.
The bedroom fell quiet again.
Jin Zijin lay there for a while, then suddenly burst out laughing. She rolled over, buried her face in Wen Yan’s pillow, and inhaled the familiar scent there, the smile at the corner of her mouth impossible to suppress.
This person.
She closed her eyes and waited for her to come back.
——————
Wen Yan gripped her car key and strode downstairs. The midnight cold wind, mixed with the morning mist, hit her face; it scattered the lingering traces of warmth and desire, forcing her instantly awake.
The engine’s roar cut through the neighborhood’s quiet as the car sped toward the orthopedics hospital affiliated with Peking University. The dashboard clock had already ticked to ten at night; the darkness still pressed heavily over the city, with only the streetlights stretching out long pale shadows.
In less than twenty minutes, the car stopped at the entrance to the emergency building.
Wen Yan got out and hurried inside. The sharp smell of disinfectant hit her full in the face, strong and cold, clearing her mind at once.
The lights in the emergency resuscitation room were stark and blinding.
A woman lay on the stretcher, soaked in blood; her originally bright clothes were stained through with it, and a rigid cervical collar locked tightly around her neck. Her face was white as paper, and even her breathing was so weak it was almost impossible to see.
The on-duty doctor, Zhang Sheng, was standing by her side. The cuff of his white coat was stained with blood. When he saw Wen Yan enter, he only nodded briefly before looking past her toward the end of the corridor with obvious anxiety.
“Why isn’t Master here yet?” he muttered under his breath, then lowered his head to glance at the numbers on the monitor, his brow furrowing tightly.
Wen Yan walked to the bedside, quickly scanned the patient’s vital signs, then looked at the imaging films on the wall.
The cervical spine CT and pelvic X-ray had just been hung up and were still swaying slightly.
She drew in a sharp breath.
Burst fractures of C5 and C6, with bone fragments intruding into the spinal canal and spinal cord compression exceeding 50 percent. Tile C pelvic fracture; the anterior and posterior rings were both completely broken, unstable both rotationally and vertically.
“Car accident?” she asked.
“Yeah, lateral impact caused the vehicle to roll over.” Zhang Sheng’s answer was brief, his tone carrying tightly suppressed irritation. “It’s been almost an hour since she was brought in. The family’s making a scene outside and won’t let us operate. I...”
Before he could finish, hurried footsteps sounded from the far end of the corridor.
Dean Wang Fu came rushing in with a coat over her shoulders. The older woman had red-rimmed eyes from staying up all night. She glanced at the bed, and her expression sank at once.
She didn’t waste a second; turning, she headed toward the family waiting at the door. In just a moment, shouts erupted in the corridor.
“Nonsense! You’re all talking nonsense!” the man roared, his voice sharp with fury. “My daughter Lin Weiwei is one of the top figure skaters in the country. How could she possibly be paralyzed?”
“If you can’t treat her, that means you’re incompetent quacks! Transfer her! Transfer her now! If anything happens to my daughter, I’ll tear this hospital apart!”
Wen Yan stood at the entrance of the resuscitation room; the warmth left over on her fingertips from Jin Zijin had already been swallowed by the emergency room’s chill, turning cold.
She lowered her eyes to look at Lin Weiwei on the bed, her fate uncertain, then at the family throwing a hysterical fit. A faint, detached irritation rose in her heart, and her brows furrowed almost imperceptibly.
Lives were at stake. Every minute of delay added more danger. Did they really not care about the child’s life at all, just to make a scene like this?
The farce dragged on for more than ten minutes before hurried footsteps sounded again from the end of the corridor.
Lin Weiwei’s head coach arrived in a rush, still in sportswear, his face full of urgency.
He grabbed hold of the out-of-control father and said in a deep, forceful voice, “Let the child have the surgery first. This is the top orthopedic hospital in the country. Director Wang is one of the best doctors in the field. If you don’t let her be treated here, are you planning to wait for Weiwei to die?”
One sentence hit the mark.
The man’s shouting stopped abruptly. His face went green, then white, and in the end he still let the coach hold him down and signed the consent form with trembling hands.
The surgery preparations moved quickly.
Experts from cardiothoracic surgery and orthopedics all arrived, surrounding the case file to analyze the condition and draft the plan at high speed. The CT images spread layer by layer on the light box; every film was scrutinized again and again.
“The cervical spine needs urgent decompression and fixation; the pelvis must be reconstructed for both the anterior and posterior rings at the same time,” Dean Wang Fu said after reviewing the images. Her voice was grave. “Two teams will operate simultaneously. Wen Yan has steady hands, so she’ll handle the cervical spine. I’ll take the pelvis. Cardio-thoracic stays on standby, ready for thoracotomy at any time.”
Wen Yan nodded and was already putting on her surgical gown. She pulled on sterile gloves, flexed her fingers lightly, and found that familiar feeling.
Zhang Sheng stood nearby, gripping a scalpel, his eyes full of eagerness.
Lin Weiwei was a nationally beloved figure skater; to be the one to operate on her was an excellent opportunity to wedge into the top-level athlete medical circle, and even more, a shortcut to fame.
He stepped forward, just about to speak, when Wang Fu had already turned to Wen Yan, her tone decisive. “Wen Yan, the cervical spine is your responsibility entirely.”
Zhang Sheng’s movement froze halfway.
He stood there, as if someone had poured a bucket of ice water over his head. His knuckles clenched white, nearly crushing the instrument in his hand.
Why?
Again Wen Yan!
Master was always biased toward Wen Yan. Every good chance, every moment in the spotlight, it was always Wen Yan!
He watched Wen Yan put on her surgical gown and sterile gloves. Her movements were neat and steady, each step precise beyond reproach.
Jealousy gnawed at his chest like a venomous snake. He hated it so much he almost went mad, but he could only stand to one side as an assistant, watching Wen Yan walk toward the lead surgeon’s position.
The operating lights stayed on all night.
Wen Yan threw herself fully into the operating table, carrying out extremely delicate work.
Laminectomy and decompression; the bone fragments were carefully removed, the dura exposed intact, and the spinal cord pulsation was good. Then came insertion of the interbody fusion cage, followed by anterior plate fixation.
Every step was as fine as a hair; not a single mistake could be allowed.
The monitor beside them beeped steadily, vital signs stable. The anesthesiologist reported values from time to time, the circulating nurse handed over instruments, and the whole team worked like a precision machine.
When Wen Yan finished the final detail, she lifted her eyes to the clock on the wall.
Eight in the morning. Daylight was already flooding in.
She straightened up, and a small crack sounded in her neck. Her scrubs were soaked through with sweat, and her eyes were lined with red veins; she was so tired she could barely stand.
The two teams finished at the same time. Dean Wang Fu put down her instrument and exhaled a long breath before looking over at Wen Yan. “How is yours?”
Wen Yan’s voice was hoarse. “Done.”
Wang Fu nodded, and the two of them walked out of the operating room together.
The family waiting at the door surged forward. The woman’s eyes were swollen red from crying, her lips trembling so badly she couldn’t speak. The man’s face was black with tension, staring fixedly at Wang Fu.
Wang Fu took off her mask, her voice steady. “The surgery has stabilized her condition for now; her life is not in danger. However, the spinal cord injury in the cervical spine is severe, and we still need to observe how she recovers. The risk of high-level paraplegia...” She paused. “Still exists.”
The woman covered her mouth and burst into tears.
The man staggered back a step, then collapsed onto the floor, clutching his hair and howling, “My Weiwei... my Weiwei... she can’t skate anymore, her whole figure skating career is ruined...”
Wen Yan removed her mask and rubbed her brow wearily.
Looking at the family breaking down on the floor, a vague unease spread through her heart.
It felt as though something was sprouting in the dark, invisible threads winding around her wrists, making her chest feel heavy. She had a bad feeling that some trouble had already quietly set its sights on her.
Seeing the exhaustion on her face, Wang Fu patted her shoulder. “You’ve been up all night. Go back and rest. I’m giving you a day off. I’ll handle things here.”
Wen Yan nodded and didn’t refuse.
After changing clothes, she left the hospital. The morning sunlight was so bright it made her narrow her eyes.
When she started the car, she glanced at the passenger seat. It was empty, yet it made her think of the person on the bed before she left at dawn, curled in the blanket and waving at her.
Her heart suddenly softened a little.
The moment she pushed open the front door, a rich breakfast scent rushed out to meet her.
The softness of congee mixed with the savory aroma of fried eggs; it swept away the fatigue from her whole body.
Jin Zijin was wearing an off-white apron, standing at the island counter and setting out bowls and chopsticks. Morning light poured in through the floor-to-ceiling windows, making her look gentle beyond belief.
Mi Tang heard the movement and came trotting over on tiny steps, rubbing against Wen Yan’s ankle and meowing.
All the fatigue in Wen Yan’s body fell away at once.
Her eyes curved into crescent moons. She leaned over and hugged Jin Zijin from behind, resting her chin in the hollow of her shoulder. Her voice was hoarse from staying up all night, soft and clingy, full of spoiled affection. “Wow, coming home to breakfast made by my wife? I’m way too happy.”
Jin Zijin was bumped forward by her and laughed as she turned her head. But when her gaze landed on Wen Yan’s face, the smile paused.
The dark circles under Wen Yan’s eyes were so obvious, and there were still traces of red veins left in them.
She lifted a hand and lightly touched that faint bluish shadow, her expression both heartbroken and helpless. “Go wash your hands. Eat first.” She paused. “You rushed out in the middle of the night yesterday. What exactly happened?”
Wen Yan rubbed against her shoulder once more before letting go and obediently going to wash her hands.
When she came back and sat at the dining table, she scooped up a bowl of congee and drank in small mouthfuls, slowly explaining the surgery for Lin Weiwei. “A figure skater was brought in after a car accident in the early morning. Her name is Lin Weiwei. C5 and C6 burst fractures in the cervical spine; the spinal cord was severely compressed; Tile C pelvic fracture, and both the anterior and posterior rings were broken.”
She paused, then added, “The surgery lasted all night, with two teams operating simultaneously. I was in charge of the cervical spine. Her life is saved for now, but the risk of paralysis is very high. Her sports career is basically ruined.”
Jin Zijin’s hand paused as she set down the chopsticks, her brows drawing together slightly. “Lin Weiwei?”
Wen Yan bit into a fried egg and looked up curiously. “You know her?” She blinked. “Is there a problem?”
“She herself is fine enough; it’s her family that’s troublesome.”
Jin Zijin sat across from her, took a sip of water, and spoke in a flat tone. “Her father is a nobody businessman. He’s treated her like a commodity since she was young, desperately wanting to marry her into a wealthy family and reap some benefits.”
She paused and looked up at Wen Yan.
There was a faint smile in Jin Zijin’s eyes, as if she had remembered something amusing. “I met her a few times when my family arranged blind dates. We even went skiing together once, and the reporters caught photos of it.”
The spoon in Wen Yan’s hand stopped.
She leaned forward, looking at Jin Zijin with complete seriousness. “So she’s my love rival?”
Jin Zijin was amused by her expression.
She reached over and pinched Wen Yan’s cheek, the corners of her eyes curving. “Not really. I don’t have the slightest interest in her.” Her smile faded a little. “But since you’ve said that, we really should prepare early.”
Wen Yan tilted her head, confused. “How so?”
“I’m afraid her family will try to extort you.”
Wen Yan was startled. “That won’t happen, right?”
Jin Zijin set down her glass, her expression turning slightly serious. “Don’t take it lightly. Do you think you’re just the operating surgeon and this has nothing to do with you?”
Wen Yan laughed and lowered her head to scoop another spoonful of congee. “The surgery was organized and coordinated by Master. I’m just the one holding the scalpel. If the family wants to make trouble, they’d make it at the hospital. How could they possibly extort me?”
“It’s not that simple.”
Jin Zijin tapped the table lightly with her fingertips, choosing her words carefully. “This may not seem related, but I still need to tell you one thing.”
Seeing the seriousness in her expression, Wen Yan unconsciously straightened her back and said earnestly, “Mm, go on.”
Jin Zijin considered it before speaking. “Your senior sister’s medical project involves Peking University Hospital and your master’s old friend. Recently, the higher-ups have already fallen out over this project.”
“Hengxing has also been dragged into the upper-level struggle because of an investment issue.”
“Your matter looks small, but it’s the best opening for someone who wants to make a case. A top athlete’s surgery goes wrong; you just happen to be the operating surgeon, and you’re also my wife...”
“If someone stirs things up, the company’s stock price and your senior sister’s lab location may both be affected.”
Wen Yan’s spoon stopped.
She remembered the hysterical shouting from that man in the corridor at dawn, and the sight of him collapsing on the floor, clutching his hair and howling. The inexplicable unease in her heart intensified.
She hesitated. “Could this... really get that serious?”
At that, Jin Zijin sighed. “I didn’t expect your senior sister’s project results to be that good either. Once Lao Ye submitted it, the higher-ups approved it...”
“Your senior sister... is truly a genius among geniuses.”
“Now the higher-ups are fighting over it to the death; everyone wants their hands on this force that could reform the medical field.”
Wen Yan listened and said thoughtfully, “When gods fight, mortals suffer.”
Then she considered her words and said, “How about I stay out of Lin Weiwei’s matter from now on?”
Jin Zijin smiled at that and instead comforted her. “There’s no need. If they want to target you, they’ll have other ways.”
“Besides, we’re not without countermeasures. We just need to prepare in advance.”
As she said that, Jin Zijin picked up her phone and quickly dialed a number.
When the call connected, she went straight to the point, her tone crisp and decisive like a business leader’s. “Lao Ye, I need a favor.”
There was a slight surprise on the other end. “Zijin? This early in the morning, what do you need from me?”
“Help me get every surveillance recording from the orthopedics hospital affiliated with Peking University, from six p.m. last night until now, and everything after that.” Jin Zijin’s voice carried no hesitation at all; each word was clear and forceful. “Not a backup copy. I want the footage directly in my hands.”
“Make it fast. As fast as possible.”
“Alright, I’ll arrange it immediately.” Hearing it was about a hospital, Ye Jianlan immediately sharpened her focus and agreed.
After hanging up, Jin Zijin set down her phone and looked at Wen Yan, who was staring blankly at her.
It took Wen Yan a moment to come back to herself. She genuinely admired her, her tone carrying both amazement and respect. “Zijin, your risk awareness is way too strong. I didn’t even think about this angle.”
Jin Zijin reached out and held the hand Wen Yan had resting on the table.
Her fingertips gently brushed Wen Yan’s palm, warm and soft.
Jin Zijin looked at her, her voice gentle. “When you’ve been set up too many times, you naturally learn how to avoid risk.”
She paused, then smiled softly. “Since I think there may be a trap in there, then I’ll block every possible loophole for you.”
Looking at the certainty and cherishment in her eyes, Wen Yan’s heart warmed.
All the exhaustion, all the unease, dissolved instantly in that warmth.
She tightened her grip on Jin Zijin’s hand and lowered her head to kiss her fingertips lightly.
My wife really is too good.
TL Note:
When gods fight, mortals suffer (神仙打架，凡人遭殃) = ordinary people get caught in the crossfire when powerful people clash.