Still Frame Chapter 65
byChapter 65: Between the Dance Steps
The afternoon was reserved for the ball. The newly married couple, having changed into their formal attire, took the first dance. The groom, looking as if a great disaster was imminent, was severely scolded by the bride. However, it wasn’t long before the two spun a few times and passionately embraced and kissed again. Many people around them cheered, making the atmosphere even livelier.
Seeing that one person in every dancing pair had a colored ribbon tied around their wrist, Zhang Liuxin felt curious and walked over to see what it was.
Hagiyue’s brother-in-law explained to them, “This is also a tradition in Bernlin. At the ball, if someone wants to invite another person to dance, they give a flower and a ribbon. If the invited person agrees, they tie the ribbon to their wrist, and the two can dance.”
Zhang Liuxin nodded. Turning back, he saw Wen Jin had already taken a pale green ribbon and paired it with a white eustoma flower. Wen Jin lowered his head slightly, his eyes filled with a soft, fragmented smile.
“I—I’m not very good at dancing.”
Zhang Liuxin was extremely uncoordinated. After marrying Wen Jin, he had taken a few etiquette classes, but since his legs and feet weren’t very flexible, he only learned the basics. For any mandatory balls, he and Wen Jin almost never took to the floor.
“I’m not either,” Wen Jin said with a righteous air. Seeing that Zhang Liuxin hadn’t moved, the curve at the corner of his eye stiffened slightly. He asked in a flat tone, “Are you not accepting the flower?”
Zhang Liuxin detected a hint of disappointment in his voice and immediately softened. He quickly accepted the eustoma and repeatedly said, “Yes, yes, I’ll take it. Let’s dance.”
Wen Jin smiled, his expression instantly changing from cloudy to sunny. Although it was a subtle shift, Zhang Liuxin still noticed it and began to suspect Wen Jin was doing it on purpose. But was he deliberately feigning pity? Zhang Liuxin decided that was probably not the case.
Wen Jin slowly and methodically tied the ribbon. His fair, fluttering fingers were mesmerizing. Just then, a gust of wind blew the light green ribbon up, brushing against Wen Jin’s face. He instinctively closed his eyes, causing his eyelashes to tremble.
The gentle green, the deep-set eyes, the cool, delicate skin—Zhang Liuxin felt that if time could pause, that instant would surely be a masterpiece worthy of the central spot in an art museum.
“Done.”
Wen Jin’s bow was tied perfectly, as if pressed by a machine. The two trailing ribbons underneath were exactly the same length. Zhang Liuxin waved his hand, watching the two ribbons sway. He suddenly felt very childish and couldn’t help but curve his lips into a smile.
Just then, the music changed to a lyrical piece, classical and elegant with the cello. Wen Jin performed a perfect bow, extending a long, slender hand toward him, and said, “May I have this dance?”
They were the only same-sex couple, and many people around them looked over. Zhang Liuxin had felt a little awkward just moments ago, but seeing Wen Jin extending his hand to him, all the noise in his heart vanished. Only the man in front of him remained. So he placed his hand into Wen Jin’s, smiling as he said, “The pleasure is mine.”
Wen Jin saying he couldn’t dance was likely a lie. Zhang Liuxin knew that people from Wen Jin’s background had to learn many forms of etiquette from a young age, and ball etiquette was probably the most basic. However, Wen Jin didn’t dance seriously, either. He accommodated Zhang Liuxin, merely swaying slowly with him to the music.
“I’m teaching you ball etiquette,” Wen Jin said as a movement brought them suddenly close, their noses nearly touching.
Zhang Liuxin asked, “What?”
“When dancing, you can only look at me,” Wen Jin skipped the word “partner.” “You are not allowed to look at anything else.”
The hand resting on Zhang Liuxin’s waist tightened slightly. Zhang Liuxin sincerely apologized, “Sorry, I won’t do it again.”
Wen Jin released his grip with satisfaction, allowing Zhang Liuxin, who hadn’t maintained his balance, to fall into his arms. This was not a very gentlemanly action.
Everyone else finished the dance with beautiful poses. Only they remained, the pale green ribbon wrapping around their tightly clasped hands. They were also embracing. Zhang Liuxin felt a warmth in the crook of his neck, caused by Wen Jin’s breath, which made him realize again how intimate their posture was.
Fortunately, the next dance piece began, and everyone quickly immersed themselves, no longer paying attention to them.
“You’ve been a little…”
Zhang Liuxin wanted to say “clingy,” but seeing Wen Jin’s cold and beautiful face, he swallowed the last two words.
“A little what?”
Zhang Liuxin retrieved the eustoma flower, gently sniffing it. It had a faint, almost nonexistent scent. He replied, “A little too good to me.”
As soon as he said this, his heartbeat became exceptionally clear, each thump revealing his nervousness. This was the truth. He had felt more than once that Wen Jin had changed significantly. Back in Yinzhou, Wen Jin wouldn’t treat him like this, wouldn’t kiss him, wouldn’t smile at him so often. He had gone from feeling apprehensive to now accepting it openly, closing his eyes to accept Wen Jin’s embrace, and he wanted to know why.
Wen Jin raised an eyebrow and actually asked, “Did I do a terrible job in Yinzhou?”
Zhang Liuxin instinctively wanted to say “no.” In fact, Wen Jin was a good husband. Although busy with official duties, he could be considered family-oriented, maintained a clean reputation, and was very concerned about Zhang Liuxin’s health.
But he couldn’t say it, because Wen Jin had only fulfilled the “responsibilities” of a husband; he hadn’t shown that he loved him.
Zhang Liuxin didn’t necessarily need a flawless husband, but he had inherited his mother’s belief in love. Perhaps it was naive, perhaps it was foolish, but he definitely needed genuine, unreserved love.
He desperately didn’t want to recall the past at this moment of perfect atmosphere, but he couldn’t ignore the fact that throughout their seven years of marriage, Wen Jin hadn’t loved him, or at least, he hadn’t felt it.
So he couldn’t utter that “no.” He felt Wen Jin might not understand that there could be someone as greedy as him, someone who, having given affection, wanted love in return, so greedy that he ignored their seven years of window dressing marriage and still chose to question it now.
“It seems I did a terrible job.”
Zhang Liuxin tried to discern whether Wen Jin’s expression was truly flat, cold, or perhaps impatient, but it was pointless, because Wen Jin then said, “Liuxin, don’t try to guess my expression. You are my partner. If you want to know something, you can ask me directly.”
Wen Jin had seen through him. His tone was gentle. Zhang Liuxin heard it. Wen Jin pulled over a high stool for him to sit and rest, resting his hands on the armrests. The distance between them was only about twenty centimeters.
Zhang Liuxin processed this for a moment, first thinking of the phrase “don’t try to guess,” and then recalling the word “partner.”
Seeing that he remained silent, Wen Jin asked, “Then let me ask. Have I been doing well recently?”
Wen Jin was clearly a respected professor at a prestigious university, yet he was asking him, like a top student requesting a grade from a teacher. Of course, in Zhang Liuxin’s eyes, he was always number one, so Zhang Liuxin nodded.
“Then I will continue to be this way in the future.” Wen Jin seemed unwilling to push him too hard. He went to fetch a slice of lemon crepe cake, asking if Zhang Liuxin liked to eat it.
Zhang Liuxin suddenly grabbed his sleeve, holding on tightly, his eyes sparkling. After a long pause, he said, “Wen Jin, I feel like I don’t know you well enough.”
He realized that Wen Jin knew many things about him intimately, such as the disassembly and maintenance of his exoskeleton, and his taste in food, even if Wen Jin didn’t personally understand them.
But he, Zhang Liuxin, had been so immersed in Wen Jin’s coldness toward him that, apart from a few habits mentioned by Aunt Lin, he didn’t know Wen Jin that well, not even his upbringing.
Wen Jin was stunned for a moment, then paused and said, “I told you, if there’s anything you want to know, just ask me.”
Zhang Liuxin poked the lemon slice on top of the cake. He remembered his stepmother’s birthday banquet many years ago, where he was eating this very dessert in a corner, listening to others discuss the marriage between Wen Jin and Zhang Qiannan. At the time, his mood was even more sour than the lemon. But now, after all that had passed, his mindset had changed considerably. He fed a small piece of the crepe cake to Wen Jin’s mouth.
Wen Jin ate it, furrowing his brow. “It’s a little sour.”
Zhang Liuxin, however, laughed, a genuinely hearty laugh. He picked up the top lemon slice with a fork and ate it, saying, “I think it’s fine, Senior.”
As night fell, the hosts generously brought out several barrels of aged wine, telling everyone to drink their fill.
Tuhui Sha took a cup, her cheeks slightly flushed from the drink. She nearly dropped Duofei and told Zhang Liuxin and Wen Jin, “You two should try some. They’re all fruit wines—peach wine and flower wine. They smell wonderful, and don’t worry, the alcohol content isn’t high.”
A noisy outburst suddenly erupted on the other side. Tu Yier and several men, faces red and necks thick, huddled together, arms around each other’s shoulders, rambling about old times with great warmth. Several empty wine glasses were already stacked on the table. Zhang Liuxin thought that this certainly didn’t look like low-alcohol content.
Neither he nor Wen Jin drank much, but in this setting, with colored lights strung everywhere and a bonfire burning, it felt like something was missing without a drink. So they each took a cup. Wen Jin drank the peach wine, taking a sip and saying, “This wine is quite good.”
Zhang Liuxin held his cup without moving. Hearing Wen Jin, he wanted to try it. He reached out to take the cup, but Wen Jin didn’t let go, instead holding the rim of the cup against Zhang Liuxin’s lower lip.
Zhang Liuxin had no choice but to drink from Wen Jin’s hand. The peach wine was spicier than he expected. A rush of alcohol came up, making him cough violently twice. Wen Jin’s expression changed, and he put down the cup to pat Zhang Liuxin’s back.
“I-I’m fine. I just haven’t had alcohol in a long time, so I’m not used to it.”
After the initial spice came a rich peach aroma, with a lingering sweetness. The flavor was unique, different from the wines brewed in Yinzhou.
“This wine is good. The flower wine isn’t as spicy, you should try it.” Zhang Liuxin placed his cup next to Wen Jin’s hand. Wen Jin nodded.
“The people who live here are truly happy.”
Watching the people in front of him talking and laughing, everyone seemed so genuine, making Zhang Liuxin feel a little envious.
Wen Jin took another sip of wine and asked him, “You don’t want to go back?”
Zhang Liuxin paused for a moment before answering, “It’s definitely impossible to stay here forever.”
Wen Jin stared at his profile for a few seconds, seemingly deep in thought, before saying, “We can come back often when we have time in the future.”
Zhang Liuxin felt a little warm all over from the alcohol, and his reactions slowed down. He nodded slowly after hearing Wen Jin’s words.
Seeing Aunt Mo and Da Ping, Zhang Liuxin told Wen Jin he wanted to go over and say hello.
“I’m going to the lakeside to get some air,” Wen Jin instructed him. “Watch your step. It’s hard to see at night.”
“Got it. You too. Don’t jump in and swim.”
He must have been drunk, as Zhang Liuxin was speaking without thinking. Wen Jin actually answered him seriously, a thin layer of wine coating his lips, making them look translucent and glistening. Zhang Liuxin stared for a moment, feeling an urge to bite them, but rationality ultimately won. He shook his head and walked toward Da Ping and the others.
“Teacher Da Ping.” Zhang Liuxin sat down beside him and clinked cups.
Da Ping nodded, taking a large gulp of wine. He called out, “Liuxin, we’re only just getting a chance to talk now.”
Zhang Liuxin had been completely engrossed by Wen Jin all day, and only now did he have the presence of mind to chat with others. He was too embarrassed to explain the reason.
“Where’s Wen Jin?”
“He went for a walk.”
Da Ping nodded. “Are you two leaving soon? I saw in the newspapers recently that there seem to be more changes in Yinzhou.”
Zhang Liuxin hummed in agreement. “The day after tomorrow, I think. My family will come to pick us up the day after tomorrow.”
At this point, both fell silent simultaneously. Da Ping’s sharp, dark green eyes looked over, and Zhang Liuxin felt as if his thoughts had been seen through.
They clinked cups again. This time, Zhang Liuxin drank the wine in one go, saying half-jokingly, “I feel like I don’t want to leave.”
His eyes were a little hazy. Da Ping smiled. “Do you not want to leave this place, or do you not want to leave him?”
Zhang Liuxin felt his face flush again, unable to tell if it was the alcohol. He looked up to find the North Star, but the stars appeared as multiple overlapping images. He squinted to see clearly, but didn’t answer.
A gust of wind blew past. Zhang Liuxin rubbed his arms, feeling a little cold. Remembering Wen Jin was still by the lake, he decided to go find him. When he stood up, he wasn’t steady and nearly fell again. Da Ping beside him said, “Liuxin, you’re not drunk, are you? Should I find someone to go with you?”
Zhang Liuxin steadied himself on the table and ate a piece of nearby cheese. “No, don’t worry about me.”
He walked slowly toward the lakeside. The light grew dimmer as he walked, with only the sound of the wind rustling the grass in his ears.
He saw a figure standing by the lake, tall with long legs—clearly his husband.
A slightly stouter figure walked up beside him, holding a wine cup. As soon as he spoke, Zhang Liuxin recognized him as Tu Yier.
“Yue, why are you here alone? Where’s Chen?”
Wen Jin understood this much, and pointed behind him.
Tu Yier clinked cups with him. The two looked out at the lake, which appeared dangerous yet serene in the darkness. Tu Yier was also quite drunk and didn’t realize Wen Jin couldn’t understand him. He spoke thickly, “The wedding here is very special, isn’t it? It must be very different from your hometown.”
“I’m a little curious, what was your and Chen’s wedding like? To be honest, I haven’t seen many same-sex couples.”
Zhang Liuxin shook his head helplessly, thinking that Brother Tu must be truly drunk, rambling so much in Bernlinian to Wen Jin, who couldn’t understand it.
He was about to walk over. Just as he took a step, he heard a familiar, deep voice say, “Our wedding was perfect.”
Zhang Liuxin felt he must be drunk, otherwise, how could he hear Wen Jin answering the question in Bernlinian…
Next chapter will be from Wen Jin’s perspective