Chapter 92
When the temple bell rang in the morning, the mountain mist had yet to disperse.
The deep, heavy toll echoed through the valley. It startled several birds perched in the pine trees; they fluttered into the fog and vanished in the blink of an eye.
After watching the sunrise, they returned to their guest room and slept for another two hours. Still groggy, they were roused by the crisp chirping of birds outside the window.
When they opened the door, the damp, cold mountain wind hit them in the face, carrying the clean scent of pine needles and incense.
In the distance, the sea of clouds was still churning; the morning sun had dyed the horizon a brilliant gold, slowly spilling over the mountain peaks.
The temple’s vegetarian hall had long since prepared breakfast: steamed buns and a few light side dishes, simple and plain.
Jin Zijin tore off a piece of bun and held it to Wen Yan’s lips. “Ah...”
Wen Yan opened her mouth and obediently took it.
Jin Zijin couldn’t help laughing and deliberately teased her. “Why did you suddenly do that just now, when you kissed me while watching the sunrise?”
Wen Yan wasn’t the kind of person who acted bold on the surface, so doing something like that had really surprised Jin Zijin.
Wen Yan lifted her eyes to look at her, her expression frank. “Because I like you.”
“I like you a lot, so I wanted to be close to you. Is there a problem?”
Jin Zijin curved her lips. “No problem.”
“Just a little surprised that you’re so bold.”
“I learned it from you.” Wen Yan smiled and picked up a chopstickful of stir-fried tea tree mushrooms for her bowl, then fed them to her.
The two of them ate breakfast at an unhurried pace, chatting here and there.
Every so often, birdsong drifted in from outside the window, mingling with the faint sound of pines swaying in the distance; it was so quiet that it didn’t seem like the mortal world at all.
When they were about seventy percent full, Jin Zijin asked if they were satisfied.
Wen Yan said she was.
Just as they set down their bowls and chopsticks, a little Daoist boy in a cyan robe walked over.
He pressed his palms together and bowed to the two of them, his voice bright and clear, with a trace of childlike innocence. “Two benefactors, my master said that if you have nothing else to do, you may join the temple disciples in morning practice.”
“First go to the martial arts grounds to perform a set of taichi, then go to the scripture library to copy sutras and calm your minds.”
Jin Zijin looked at Wen Yan, her eyes clear. “Do you want to go?”
Wen Yan thought for a moment. “Can we go?”
She took Jin Zijin’s hand and nodded at the little Daoist, her tone gentle. “Thank you, Master. We’ll go over right away.”
The martial arts grounds were behind the main hall, paved with flat blue stone and surrounded on all sides by ancient pines.
The temple disciples were already lined up. When they saw the two of them arrive, they all smiled and stepped aside to make room, their gazes openly curious and friendly.
The Daoist leading the practice stood at the front. His beard and hair were completely white, and though his figure was lean, he carried himself with a quiet dignity.
He nodded at Wen Yan and smiled. “Benefactor, just do as you like. There’s no need to force the movements to be standard; just calm your mind.”
The music began.
The Daoist’s movements unfolded slowly, smooth as clouds and flowing water, relaxed and natural. His sleeves swayed lightly with each motion, as if moved by the wind.
Wen Yan was, after all, the provincial martial arts champion; her foundation in taichi was extremely solid.
Following the music, she raised her arms, turned, moved through the cloud hands, and sank into her stances; her movements were broad and rounded, even more standard and fluid than those of the disciples who had practiced here for years.
The morning light fell on her sky-blue windbreaker, bathing her whole body in a soft glow. She was calm and focused, her brows and eyes carrying a kind of spirited sharpness; she was so beautiful it was hard to look away.
Jin Zijin stood beside her, full of admiration.
Ah, as expected of her wife. She really looked gorgeous when she practiced.
Out of the corner of her eye, Wen Yan noticed Jin Zijin looking at her with such obvious admiration that she couldn’t help curving her lips.
She deliberately slowed her movements by half a beat, then quietly reached out with her left hand. Using the cloud hands as cover, she lightly supported Jin Zijin’s waist.
The instant her palm touched her, she felt Jin Zijin stiffen slightly before relaxing again.
Wen Yan guided her posture, lowering her voice so only the two of them could hear. “Come on, follow my rhythm. Let your waist and hips move first, then bring your hands along.”
Jin Zijin’s ears immediately turned red.
She obediently followed Wen Yan’s lead, their noses almost touching. She could smell the familiar wax-apple scent on Wen Yan, mingled with the crisp mountain air of early morning.
She didn’t remember any of the forms; her body moved instinctively under the other woman’s guidance, loose and casual.
Jin Zijin felt it was a bit like dancing. By the time the taichi set was finished, she was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, and even her breathing had turned slightly rough.
When the form ended, she let out a long breath and leaned close to Wen Yan’s ear, muttering softly, “Sigh, I don’t know how to do anything. Luckily I have you teaching me, or I would’ve been embarrassed.”
“It’s not embarrassing.” Wen Yan smiled and squeezed her hand, her fingertips gently rubbing along the pad of her finger. “For your first time, that was already very good.”
“Taichi is about following your heart and letting your intention move you.”
Just like when Jin Zijin had taught her to dance back then; that had also been about moving with the heart.
The Daoist beside them also walked over with a smile and pressed his palms together in a bow.
He looked at Wen Yan, then at Jin Zijin, his eyes carrying a knowing smile. “Benefactor Wen’s taichi foundation is profound; truly rare, truly rare. Benefactor Jin also has sincerity in her heart. After following along just now, your breathing has already improved quite a bit.”
Jin Zijin was embarrassed by the praise and hurriedly waved it off, though inwardly she let out a secret sigh of relief.
——————
After finishing morning practice, the two of them went with everyone else to the scripture library to copy sutras.
The scripture library was at the highest point of the temple, facing a cliff. If you opened the window, you could see mountains of green pines and the surging sea of clouds.
A faint sandalwood scent burned in the room, curling upward in wisps. Mixed with the pine fragrance drifting in from outside, it made one unconsciously calm down.
On the long table lay gold-flecked xuan paper, with brush, ink, paper, and inkstone all ready. The prepared ink shone with a warm luster, as if it had been soaked in a thin layer of oil.
The little Daoist handed the two of them a model copy of the Qingjing Scripture and said with a smile, “Two benefactors, just copy it as you like. Sincerity will bring spiritual response; there’s no need to be bound by the style of the characters.”
Jin Zijin looked at the model on the xuan paper, her eyes lighting up.
She might not be good at taichi, but when it came to writing, she was confident.
She picked up a wolf-hair brush, lightly rolling the shaft between her fingers before dipping it in ink and bending over the paper.
Her wrist moved lightly; a line of neat and graceful regular script appeared on the paper, the strokes elegant and clean, the flow smooth and refined, even the pressure of each stroke just right.
She wrote with concentration, her brows lowered, with none of her usual flamboyance left; only stillness remained.
Wen Yan stood beside her, looking at the characters on the page, surprise rising in her eyes.
She had heard from Jin Zijin’s parents that Jin Zijin knew a little qin, chess, calligraphy, and painting, but she hadn’t expected her brushwork to be this good. It was even prettier than Wen Yan’s own years of practicing Shoujin-style calligraphy, carrying the elegance of a daughter from a distinguished family.
“I didn’t expect your handwriting to be this good.” Wen Yan bent down and spoke softly by her ear, admiration clear in her tone.
Jin Zijin’s brush tip paused; her ears turned slightly red.
She deliberately lifted her chin, smiling smugly, though she couldn’t quite suppress the joy at the corners of her mouth. “Of course. I’m the one who writes the Spring Festival couplets for our house every New Year. Haven’t you noticed my skill yet?”
As she spoke, she shifted aside and handed Wen Yan another brush, her eyes full of teasing amusement. “How about Dr. Wen showing off a little too? I’ve never seen you write with a brush.”
Wen Yan smiled, took the brush, dipped it in ink, and lowered it to the paper.
Her characters were unlike Jin Zijin’s graceful script; they were lean, hard, and upright in Shoujin style, the brush tip sharp and the spirit within them extraordinary.
Each stroke carried her bone-deep resilience and decisiveness, completely different from her usual gentle, cool demeanor, yet fitting her all the more.
The two stood side by side at the long table.
Outside the window, the sea of clouds rolled in layers over the distant mountains. Sandalwood and ink mingled together, soothing the heart. The rustle of the brush on paper intertwined with the sound of wind through the pines, quiet and lingering.
Jin Zijin made a mistake in one stroke and was frowning, thinking of how to fix it, when Wen Yan reached out with her left hand and gently covered the back of her hand, helping her mend the stroke until it became round and natural.
The moment their fingers touched, a warm sensation spread from their fingertips.
They looked at each other and couldn’t help curving their lips.
The whole morning quietly slipped by among ink, brush, paper, and stone.
The two copied versions of the Qingjing Scripture were left drying on the table; one graceful, one sharp, placed side by side like the two of them.
They seemed completely different, yet somehow fit together perfectly.
After eating a vegetarian lunch in the dining hall, the two of them returned to their guest room for a short nap. By then, the weather had changed.
First came the wind.
The sound of the pines grew louder and louder, rolling in from the distant mountains like drums being beaten in the clouds.
Not long after, fine strands of rain began to fall, striking the pine needles outside the window with a rustling sound.
The rain was gentle and dense, like a tender lullaby.
Jin Zijin had already prepared the tea set. Seeing the rain fall, she asked the temple master for some mountain spring water and warmed a pot of aged white tea on the small tea table on the guest room balcony.
Charcoal in the little stove burned quietly. Every so often, a few sparks flew up with a sharp crackle.
The water in the kettle gurgled softly, white steam rising in wisps and mingling with the pine fragrance and tea aroma in the rainy mist, filling the air and warming the space beneath the eaves.
Wen Yan sat in the wicker chair, watching Jin Zijin rinse the tea leaves, pour the water, and decant the tea.
Her movements flowed like clouds and water, elegant as an old painting.
The person who was usually so bright and sharp became unexpectedly calm and gentle when doing these things, even the motion of her fingers carrying a certain refined grace.
Wen Yan watched until she was absorbed, her gaze fixed on Jin Zijin, unwilling to look away.
Jin Zijin looked up and immediately met Wen Yan’s devoted gaze. Her brows curved with a smile.
She got up and handed a cup of warmed tea to Wen Yan. “Try it. I specially brought this aged white tea; it’s old enough that it won’t irritate your stomach, and it’s good for your recovery.”
Wen Yan took the cup; its warmth spread from her fingertips into her heart.
She took a sip. The tea was mellow and smooth, carrying a faint jujube fragrance. Warmth slid down her throat into her stomach, and her whole body relaxed.
The rain fell harder and harder.
It struck the pine branches and stone steps, making a pattering sound, as if someone were plucking a qin in the clouds.
The mountain peaks in the distance were completely hidden by the rain mist, a vast white blur with nothing clearly visible. It felt as if the world had been reduced to this tiny sheltered space under the eaves, and the loved one beside her.
“Days like this are really nice.” Wen Yan leaned back in the wicker chair and looked at the green pines in the rain, speaking softly.
Her voice was lazy, carrying the weariness unique to an afternoon nap. “It feels like time has slowed down.”
“If you like it, we can come often in the future.” Jin Zijin sat beside her, reaching out to hold her uninjured left hand, her fingertips lightly stroking the pad of her finger.
She paused, then added, her voice full of childlike anticipation, “When you retire, we’ll buy a little courtyard here in the mountains. Grow some vegetables, raise some flowers, boil tea and listen to the rain every day, okay?”
“Okay.” Wen Yan turned to look at the light in her eyes, curved her lips, and nodded.
The two of them nestled together like that, listening to the rain, drinking tea, chatting about everything under the sun.
But no matter how tranquil the mountain was, the peace of this place was eventually broken by the noise of the world.
A little after four in the afternoon, while the rain still hadn’t stopped, Jin Zijin’s phone suddenly vibrated. It was a call from her assistant, Li Yue.
She got up and went to the eaves to answer it. Her face, which had been smiling just moments ago, gradually darkened, and the crease between her brows deepened. Her fingertips on the phone turned slightly white.
“I know.” Jin Zijin’s voice was kept very low, giving away no emotion. “No need to worry about the video’s popularity for now.”
“Keep investigating. I want every financial transaction involving the Lu family, every record of contact with the Wang family, not a single detail missed. Send it to me within half an hour.”
After hanging up, she stood under the eaves staring at the green mountains in the rain for a long time without moving.
Rain drifted in and landed on her shoulder, but she didn’t notice.
Wen Yan sensed something was wrong. She set down her teacup, got up, and walked over, wrapping her arms gently around Jin Zijin’s waist from behind, resting her chin on the top of her head.
Her voice was soft, carrying the lingering warmth of the afternoon. “What’s wrong? Why do you look so bad?”
Jin Zijin turned around and hugged her, burying her face in the crook of her neck with a long sigh.
She didn’t hide anything from Wen Yan and told her everything in detail.
First was the online uproar.
Previously, Wen Yan and Jiang Linyue had recorded a set of protective calisthenics instructional videos for the provincial sports school, and Song Yao had been invited to demonstrate them.
The videos had actually been recorded last year, but because they happened to coincide with the start of school these past two days, someone posted them online.
In the video, Wen Yan wore athletic clothes, her movements crisp and precise, her explanations clear and professional; she was both sharp and beautiful.
The three of them—Wen Yan, Jiang Linyue, and Song Yao—were immediately pushed to the top of the trending lists by netizens.
Tags like #TheSharpAndBeautifulOrthopedicDoctorCalisthenicsLesson# and #Dr. Wen Yan, the All-Round ACE# exploded to the top of the hot searches one after another, fanning the earlier heat from her subduing the assailant.
Wen Yan’s popularity had reached an unprecedented level; she had truly gone viral beyond her usual circles.
And what was even trickier was the Lu family’s move.
Jin Zijin’s people found that the Lu family’s collateral relatives had recently been in frequent contact with Wang Jinyu, often attending banquets together.
What they were discussing was precisely that parcel of land in Chengdong.
The Lu family wanted to use the land in the Wang family’s hands to jointly develop a high-end rehabilitation and convalescent center.
It just so happened that a nearby 985 university was relocating in its entirety, and the surrounding area would draw a large number of professors, scholars, and high-net-worth individuals.
If the project succeeded, the profits would be immeasurable.
More importantly, once the project landed, the Lu family would be able to use the Wang family to directly insert themselves into the medical and convalescent sector the Jin family had spent years cultivating.
They could even use Wen Yan’s relationship with the Wang family to restrain Jin Zijin and Hengxing Group.
“The Lu family is coming for me.” Jin Zijin leaned against Wen Yan’s arms, her tone thick with exhaustion.
Her voice was muffled, coming from Wen Yan’s chest. “The Wang family is just the gun in their hands; they want to use your blood ties to the Wang family to bind your hands and feet, then use that to hold me back.”
She raised her head and looked into Wen Yan’s eyes, her tone especially serious.
“Yan Yan, I need you to cut ties with the Wang family completely.” She said, enunciating each word clearly. “The Lu family is pressing hard. I’m stretched too thin right now. We have to sacrifice every unfavorable factor they might be able to exploit; we can’t give them even the slightest opening.”
“Okay.” Wen Yan nodded almost without hesitation.
She raised a hand and gently smoothed the crease between Jin Zijin’s brows. “Just tell me what you need me to do.”
Seeing how decisively she agreed, Jin Zijin’s heart warmed, but an even deeper worry rose in its place.
She was silent for a few seconds before voicing the concern she had kept buried in her heart.
“There’s one more thing.” She paused, lowering her voice. “To truly sever the connection, we’ll have to put your relationship with the Wang family and the Wen family completely out in the open. Including... the fact that you married in Wen Chen’s place.”
“Once that gets out, people will definitely use it against you.”
“They’ll say you were the sacrifice of a political marriage, that our marriage isn’t legitimate, and they may even accuse you of clinging to the Jin family for gain.”
Jin Zijin’s voice grew lower and lower as she looked at Wen Yan, her eyes full of heartache. “This isn’t something honorable. I’m afraid people will gossip about you and make you suffer.”
Wen Yan couldn’t help laughing when she heard that.
She reached out to cradle Jin Zijin’s face and lowered her head to lightly peck her lips.
“What are you talking about? What’s dishonorable about it?”
Her tone was casual, as if she were talking about something entirely unrelated to herself.
“Is it honorable that my original family favored sons over daughters and treated me like a tool?”
“Is it something worth bragging about that my parents favored my brother and never cared about me growing up?”
She smiled as she asked back, not a trace of grievance in her eyes, only a clarity that saw through everything.
“These are all facts. What’s there that can’t be said?”
“But they’ll gossip about you.” Jin Zijin frowned, still unable to let it go.
“Let them gossip. Haven’t I been gossiped about enough?” Wen Yan pinched her cheek, her tone easy. “I’m not living in other people’s mouths.”
“Let them say whatever they want. Whether I’m living well or whether I’m happy, I know best in my own heart.”
She paused, then added lightly, yet with complete confidence, “I’ve already made it through so many hard days before. What is this little bit of gossip?”
Seeing the frankness and composure in her eyes, the burden in Jin Zijin’s heart finally settled.
She held Wen Yan tightly, her voice tinged with a little choking emotion. “Okay. Since you’re ready, I’ll have the team release the prepared statement tonight.”
“Send it.” Wen Yan patted her back, her tone still calm. “Send it however you want; I’ll listen to you.”
——————
That very night, the internet erupted completely.
A post titled “Let’s Dig Into the Recently Exploded Beauty Orthopedic Doctor Wen Yan; the Unknown Secret Behind Her Glamorous Facade” swept across all major social platforms in a single night.
Every line in the post was vicious, yet everything in it was fact—
Wen Yan came from the Wang family, a real estate dynasty. Her mother, Wang Manyu, was the Wang family’s eldest daughter; her father, Wen Xinjian, was a live-in son-in-law.
But since childhood, she had lived in the shadow of her older brother, Wen Chen. The family’s favoritism toward sons over daughters had reached an extreme.
At fourteen, she was admitted to the special class at a top medical school and went to Beijing alone to study. She wore ill-fitting old clothes, couldn’t even eat enough, and the family gave her not a single yuan for living expenses.
During her doctoral studies, the paper she had written was taken from her; she was stripped of first authorship and became someone else’s ghostwriter.
The family not only refused to help her, but also forced her to apologize to the person involved, simply because that person came from a family of academic powerhouses and was too influential for the Wen family to offend.
In order to reclaim her own experimental data, she was forced to delay graduation.
Only after she became the youngest deputy chief orthopedic surgeon at Peking University Hospital, and one of the country’s top spinal surgery experts, did her family finally remember they had a daughter.
They gave her a house her brother didn’t want, then turned around and forced her to marry Jin Zijin, the CEO of Hengxing Group, in place of her brother Wen Chen, who had run away from the wedding.
They used her marriage in exchange for the Jin family injecting capital into the Wang family, bringing the Wang family’s project back from the dead.
At the end, the post turned mocking: stop hyping some independent-woman female lead nonsense. To put it plainly, Wen Yan was just the family’s blood bank; when her brother fled the wedding, she took his place, and the whole family had been bleeding her dry. She was a slave to her original family; only by hitching herself to a political marriage did she get her current glory.
The instant the post went up, it detonated across the entire internet.
Within just a few hours, the repost count broke one hundred thousand. The comment section was in total uproar, split cleanly into several camps.
The sympathy camp made up the majority.
The comments were full of pity for Wen Yan: “Oh my god, what kind of beautiful, strong, and tragic script is this? Going to university at fourteen, not having enough to eat or wear, relying entirely on herself to get where she is now. Her original family is way too suffocating.”
“Patriarchy deserves to die! Their daughter is this outstanding, and they still treat her like a tool. Disgusting!”
“The part about her delaying graduation really broke me. Her own achievements were stolen, and her family still forced her to apologize. Who could stand that?”
The critical camp was furious, scolding her for being muddle-headed.
“Pitiful people often have hateful sides too. She’s been drained by her family this much and still hasn’t cut ties? Still marrying in place of her brother? If that’s not a brother-coddler, what is it?”
“To put it plainly, she just couldn’t bear to give up the benefits of a rich-family marriage. Otherwise she would’ve cut off her original family long ago. What’s the point of selling misery now?”
Those who knew the truth kept refuting the rumors and posting all kinds of details.
“Stop talking nonsense. President Jin is really good to Dr. Wen! Before, when Dr. Wen was being cyberbullied, President Jin directly halted all cooperation with the Wang family, personally investigated the people behind it, and delivered meals to Dr. Wen at the hospital every day, rain or shine!”
There were also people taking the opposite side.
“What good is there? The watch Wen Yan wears was a fake from President Jin, worth only a few hundred thousand. What kind of rich family gives that as a gift?”
“I don’t think the Jin family values Wen Yan that much either!”
After all the arguing, the whole internet eventually reached a consensus: Wen Yan had never enjoyed even a shred of benefit from the Wang family or the Wen family.
Everything she had today was carved out with her own hands, one cut at a time. The Wang family and the Wen family, from beginning to end, had been draining her dry and treating her like a disposable tool.
That was exactly the effect Jin Zijin wanted.
What she wanted was to completely pull Wen Yan out of the Wang family’s mud pit.
She wanted everyone to know that Wen Yan was not on the Wang family’s side. The Wang family had not only given her nothing good, but had also been hurting her all along.
If the Lu family wanted to use the Wang family to bind Wen Yan, then first they would have to cut off their foundation in public opinion.
Let them not even have an excuse to use Wen Yan.
The internet heated up for a full two days.
The two of them stayed in the temple, quietly copying sutras, brewing tea, and listening to the rain, not the least bit affected by the clamor below the mountain.
Their phones were muted and tossed into the guest room drawer; neither of them looked at them.
Only on the third day, after the rain cleared and the sky turned bright again, did they pack their luggage and prepare to go down the mountain.
Just after the car left the temple and began winding down the mountain road, Wen Yan’s phone rang.
The screen showed three words: Wang Manyu.
Jin Zijin sat in the passenger seat and glanced at the screen, a cold sneer curling at the corner of her mouth.
She said nothing, only reached over and gently took Wen Yan’s left hand.
Wen Yan looked at the screen for two seconds. Then she pressed answer and turned on speaker.
As soon as the call connected, Wang Manyu’s sharp, furious voice came through, full of undisguised reproach. “Wen Yan! Right now, immediately, you need to post a statement and clarify the rumors online!”
“Look at what the internet has been calling our family these past two days! The company’s stock has fallen for two straight days; we’ve lost several billion! And you’re just going to watch it happen?”
Leaning back in her seat, Wen Yan’s tone remained calm and even, giving away not the slightest emotion.
“What good would my explanation do?”
She asked back, her voice light, as if she were asking about the weather.
“I went to university at fourteen wearing ill-fitting clothes; people have photographic evidence.”
“I delayed graduation during my doctorate; the university has records of that. My marriage to Jin Zijin was a stand-in for Wen Chen, and the original wedding invitation is still around. The groom’s name on it is Wen Chen.”
She paused, her tone airy, yet every word landed like a blade. “Even if I explain, what use would it be?”
“How could it be useless?” Wang Manyu’s voice grew even more anxious. “You’re the Wang family’s eldest daughter. If you come out and say the family treated you very well, then people online won’t talk nonsense anymore!”
Wen Yan couldn’t help laughing at that. “The Wang family’s eldest daughter is Wang Yuchen, not me.”
Wang Manyu choked for a moment, then raised her voice. “Even if you’re not the eldest daughter, the family treated you so well, gave you life, supported you through school—how can you say such ungrateful things? How can you just let people curse your grandfather and curse our family?”
The smile on Wen Yan’s face faded. Her tone turned cold.
“Mom, do you really think the family treated me well?”
“When I went to university at fourteen, did you give me even a single yuan? When my research achievements were stolen and I was forced to apologize, did you ever say one word for me? When Wen Chen caused trouble and you forced me to marry in his place, did you ever think of me as your daughter?”
“Whether you were biased or not, don’t you know it in your own heart?”
When she said this, her tone was especially calm, as if she were talking about someone else’s business, not her own.
Wang Manyu on the other end of the line was instantly speechless.
After a few seconds of silence, Wen Yan spoke again, her tone still flat. “What a person does is watched by Heaven. The fruit the Wang family is tasting now comes from seeds you yourselves planted. Let Grandpa bear with it.”
“My hand is injured, and I’m recuperating recently, so I don’t have the energy to deal with these things.”
She paused, her tone carrying a hint of casual indifference, as if dismissing an unimportant stranger. “If you have anything to say, go talk to Jin Zijin.”
“I’m married to her now. I listen to her; whatever she says goes. When you’ve discussed it with her, let her tell me what to do.”
With that, she hung up directly.
The car fell into instant silence.
Just after Wen Yan put down her phone, she turned her head and met Jin Zijin’s bright, shining eyes.
Wen Yan’s face turned red under that gaze. She reached out and pinched Jin Zijin’s cheek, a little embarrassed. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Not bad, our Yan Yan can even talk back now.” Jin Zijin leaned over and hugged her, laughing with obvious pride. “Bold. I’m so happy!”
Wen Yan shrank into her embrace a little, her ears red.
She buried her face in the crook of Jin Zijin’s neck, her voice muffled and carrying a bit of childish coyness. “Isn’t that because you’re backing me up?”
After a pause, she added softly, her voice carrying a trace of uncertain testing, “And besides, saying it out loud makes me feel much better.”
“Sometimes when I think about how badly she treated me, I get this lump of anger in my chest. I was afraid that if I kept bottling it up, I’d turn into a shrew.”
“You don’t like shrews anyway, so I’d rather sort out my emotions and just curse them out.”
Hearing this, Jin Zijin’s heart nearly melted.
She lowered her head and kissed Wen Yan fiercely on her reddened lips.
Jin Zijin’s eyes curved with a smile as she reached out to ruffle Wen Yan’s hair, her touch as gentle as if she were stroking a spoiled cat.
“Are you silly? I like you no matter what you’re like. Even if you were a shrew, you’d still be my favorite shrew.”
She paused, then added, her tone unable to hide her delight, “But our Yan Yan has grown up and can stand up for herself now. So cute.”
Wen Yan looked at her smug expression and couldn’t help smiling as well.
A small smile lingering on her lips, she said softly, “As long as you don’t think it’s unacceptable for me to have negative emotions, that’s enough.”
I don’t want you to dislike me.
Not one bit.
I want you to love me; to always like me, to love me, and never leave me.
TL Note:
Qingjing Scripture (《清静经》) = a Daoist text about cultivating inner stillness and purity
Shoujin-style calligraphy (瘦金体) = a thin, sharp calligraphy style created by Emperor Huizong
985 university (985高校) = one of China’s elite universities under the “Project 985” system