Still Frame Chapter 51
byChapter 51: The Pain in My Heart
Wen Jin seemed angry.
This was only a rough conclusion. Zhang Liuxin simply felt intuitively that Wen Jin’s attitude this time was different from the previous times he had avoided certain questions. Wen Jin was definitely showing annoyance, and perhaps other emotions that Zhang Liuxin couldn’t decipher.
Why was Wen Jin angry? Was it because he had defied Wen Jin’s wishes?
Zhang Liuxin sat in the living room, organizing basic documents for Tu Yier. After some thought, he realized that Wen Jin had already done more than enough regarding his leg injury treatment; it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to call it flawless.
Initially, the hospital recommended electrotherapy. Zhang Liuxin tried it, still holding great hope for his leg, but the electrotherapy was not very effective, and he suffered a lot.
The atmosphere at Wenfeitai was poor for a while because he had no appetite and low spirits after electrotherapy, his condition so bad it nearly affected his work.
Until one day, Zhong Sixun took him to a medical hall and told him he would be receiving acupuncture from then on. When he stepped into the hall, he saw Wen Jin talking to a white-haired elder.
The two seemed very familiar. The elder was scolding Wen Jin about something, and Wen Jin listened attentively. Seeing Zhang Liuxin approach, Wen Jin waved him over and introduced him to Elder Wu.
Elder Wu’s acupuncture skills were superb. After one or two treatments, at least Zhang Liuxin no longer suffered from insomnia due to his legs going numb at night.
He only learned Elder Wu’s true identity through Levi. In his youth, Elder Wu had always provided physical therapy for high-ranking officials and nobles, and had been the fixed physician for the previous Head Executive. Now, due to his age, he had been living in seclusion for a long time. Unless the Wen family personally invited him, he would never come out.
Furthermore, Wen Jin was almost never absent during his acupuncture treatments. Every time he left the TV station and opened the car door, he would see Wen Jin quietly reading a document, or sometimes dozing with his eyes closed.
He felt there was no need to trouble Wen Jin to accompany him every time, especially since Wen Jin’s time was far more valuable than his. He mentioned this to Wen Jin once, but Wen Jin merely glanced at him indifferently without a word, and continued to accompany him the next time.
However, Zhang Liuxin quickly understood the reason. Soon after, he saw the press release from the Zhang family, which included candid photos taken from various angles. Sometimes they were walking side-by-side, sometimes Wen Jin’s hand was resting lightly on his waist, offering support. Zhang Liuxin knew it was a trick of perspective, but he hadn’t expected the photos to convey the impression that their relationship was extremely affectionate.
Thinking of this, Zhang Liuxin felt Wen Jin had no reason to be angry. Why would he say that Zhang Liuxin didn’t trust him or the rehabilitation specialist? The person Zhang Liuxin trusted the least was himself.
He collapsed onto the sofa, clutching his head. When he closed his eyes, all he saw were Wen Jin’s cold eyes and that kiss that had sealed off the downpour.
At the thought of it, he raised a hand to touch his lips, as if Wen Jin’s fervent breath and scorching gaze still lingered there.
Why did Wen Jin kiss him?
Zhang Liuxin found this even stranger than Wen Jin talking about “trust.” They weren’t drunk, and there were no cameras around, yet Wen Jin had kissed him for a long time. By the end, he felt his lips were numb.
Was it because of the rain? Did Wen Jin transfer his fondness for rainy days onto him? Using a kiss to vent the emotion of being forcibly trapped here?
But if Wen Jin ran off to kiss someone else whenever he couldn’t get wet in the rain, that seemed too contradictory… He couldn’t convince himself.
He applied the ointment Wen Jin had given him to his knee. The room filled with the scent of herbs. Zhang Liuxin looked at his darkened knee, his gaze then sliding down to his calf.
His left leg was not pleasant to look at.
Compared to his straight and slender right leg, his left calf appeared pathologically thin, like cotton wool without support. Pressing it revealed a soft flaccidity, lacking tension. In short, one look was enough to tell that this was not the leg of a normal person.
Because of the fever yesterday, he only remembered stubbornly snatching the towel to dry himself. But the bathroom was narrow and the temperature too high, and he must have passed out afterward. Did Wen Jin dress him and carry him to bed?
Zhang Liuxin pinched the flesh of his calf until the skin turned red before stopping.
Wen Jin must have seen it too. Zhang Liuxin looked at his leg helplessly, then buried his head in his knees.
“Bang!”
A gunshot rang out from outside. Zhang Liuxin immediately lifted his head, stumbled to pull the door open, and looked out.
In a certain spot deep in the woods, flocks of hornbills fluttered up into the sky, the friction of branches and leaves creating a spine-chilling sound. Zhang Liuxin’s heart twisted into a knot. Who fired the gun?
“Boom—”
Another loud bang followed immediately. The roar of the hunting rifle was muffled. His thoughts were interrupted again by the gunshot. The taut string in Zhang Liuxin’s mind snapped instantly. His fingers trembled slightly. He knew Tu Yier had a hunting rifle. Could it be Tu Yier? Why did Tu Yier fire a gun?
Wen Jin…
Wen Jin’s face flashed through his mind almost immediately. The sound of his heartbeat echoed in his skull, making his vision darken. He instinctively gripped the back of the sofa.
He went back into the room to find the trekking pole, wanting to go into the woods to check.
Perhaps moving too quickly, his brain hadn’t yet registered the fact that he no longer had the exoskeleton. Zhang Liuxin stumbled after taking just one step, falling awkwardly in front of the door.
This fall was heavier than the previous ones. Sharp stones scraped the skin of his palm, causing a burning pain. The sudden, intense pain made his vision go black, and cold sweat instantly soaked his back.
Having lost strength, he could only curl up on the ground, his teeth grinding audibly. His body trembled involuntarily, and the slightest movement brought piercing pain.
So useless…
Zhang Liuxin reached for the trekking pole, feeling like a fish on a cutting board, pressed down by an invisible hand, mocked by fate.
“Wen Jin…” His name slipped from his lips. Zhang Liuxin gritted his teeth and scrambled up. The air was filled with the dense repetition of Wen Jin’s name, as if only this could give him enough strength.
Leaning on the trekking pole, he walked very slowly. If he rushed even slightly, he would trip. Sweat dripped down his forehead. Zhang Liuxin thought he had walked for a long time, but when he looked back, he realized it was only a few hundred steps.
“Wen Jin!” He simply shouted at the top of his lungs, “Wen Jin, where are you? Brother Tu?”
Just as his throat began to ache from dryness, the grass ahead rustled. The next second, a corner of black clothing appeared, and Tu Yier’s dark face came into view.
The moment Tu Yier saw him, he froze: “Chen? Why are you out here?”
Before he finished speaking, he saw Zhang Liuxin running toward them, step by step, leaning on the trekking pole. It was indeed a run, though he swayed precariously. Tu Yier thought he would fall the next second, but he quickly recovered, supported by the pole.
Wen Jin, standing beside Tu Yier, broke free from his support and quickly rushed forward, gripping Zhang Liuxin’s arm. Before Wen Jin could speak, Zhang Liuxin raised his arms and hugged him.
It was a very brief embrace. Tu Yier only saw the back of Zhang Liuxin, his chin slightly raised, his hands wrapped around Wen Jin’s back from below. He closed his eyes, and a single glistening tear flashed past.
Then he saw Zhang Liuxin’s gaze rapidly sweep over Wen Jin’s body, finally stopping at his right arm. His expression froze, his olive-colored eyes unmoving. Tu Yier only realized as he got closer that Zhang Liuxin’s lips had lost all color, his dry mouth trembling.
“Chen, we ran into a poacher in the woods just now. He shot at us. Yue blocked it for me. The bullet grazed his arm, but don’t worry, it’s just a superficial wound.”
Zhang Liuxin’s fingertips lightly approached the fabric darkened by blood. His expression was somewhat distracted. Tu Yier had never seen him look like this during their days together.
“Liuxin,” Wen Jin spoke, his voice deeper than usual. He touched Zhang Liuxin’s face with his left hand, wiping away the tear, then pinched his earlobe. “I’m fine, just a graze.”
Hearing the familiar Yinzhou dialect, Zhang Liuxin finally seemed to return to himself, nodding slowly.
“Don’t worry. Did you fall just now? Let’s go back and bandage up.”
Tu Yier couldn’t understand what Wen Jin was saying, but he could detect the strong affection in his tone. Following Wen Jin’s gaze to Zhang Liuxin, he realized Zhang Liuxin was far more disheveled than either of them. His clothes and trousers were covered in dust and mud, and blood was still seeping from his palm.
“Yes.” Zhang Liuxin stared at Wen Jin’s face for a while. Finally, seeming to understand that Wen Jin’s injury was not serious, he allowed the other man to take his forearm and lead him back.
Once inside, Tu Yier went to find the medical kit. Wen Jin used a tissue to wipe the sweat from Zhang Liuxin’s forehead. He showed no sign of pain, his face expressionless, but when Tu Yier returned, he saw Wen Jin resting his forehead against Zhang Liuxin’s, saying in a very intimate posture and tone, “Liuxin, I’m right here.”
Tu Yier was startled by the scene before him. He brought the medical kit over: “Let’s bandage it.”
It was Wen Jin who nodded. He took out the alcohol and iodine from the kit and patted Zhang Liuxin’s arm: “Liuxin, go rinse off.”
Zhang Liuxin shook his head, taking the alcohol from Wen Jin’s hand: “Let me treat you first.”
His attitude was firm. Wen Jin had no choice but to take off his shirt and turn sideways toward him.
Tu Yier only then saw that the wound was not as shallow as Wen Jin had made it seem. The skin and flesh on his upper arm were rolled back, oozing dark red blood beads. It looked painful. Zhang Liuxin’s fingertips trembled violently. He found the saline solution in the medical kit and said to Wen Jin, “It will hurt a lot.”
Wen Jin replied with the same words he had used earlier: “Don’t be afraid.”
When the saline solution washed the wound, cold sweat beaded on Wen Jin’s forehead, but his expression remained unchanged, even gentle. Zhang Liuxin, conversely, bit down hard on his lower lip. When he used the tweezers to pick up a cotton pad, his hand shook so badly that he dropped it.
Tu Yier felt a pang of pity and offered, “Chen, let me do it. I’ve learned these basic medical first aid techniques.”
Zhang Liuxin stubbornly shook his head, repeatedly disinfecting Wen Jin’s wound. Finally, he took the gauze to wrap it, his movements very gentle when applying the tape.
A patch of blood stained the clean white gauze. Zhang Liuxin subconsciously reached out to wipe it, only realizing just before touching the gauze that the stain was from his own hand rubbing against it. He whispered an apology, a phrase Tu Yier understood.