Still Frame Chapter 83

Chapter 83 The Source of Every Tear

Zhang Liuxin was amused by the comment, his expression softening slightly as he held the water cup to warm his hands.

“I didn’t expect Young Master Wen to be so ruthless, and I also didn’t expect you to look for a divorce lawyer. I always thought your relationship was quite good.”

Zhang Liuxin raised an eyebrow: “Are you an outsider too?”

Levi smiled and spread his hands: “I genuinely thought so. At first, I thought you two were putting on an act, but I didn’t expect a journalism major and a scientist to be such convincing actors. Later, I realized you were simply showing genuine affection. It wasn’t hard to see that you liked Wen Jin, and Wen Jin cared about you a lot too.”

“Is it really that easy to tell?”

Zhang Liuxin didn’t understand why people around him always said this. Even when he first arrived in Yinzhou, more than one person had commented that they looked very affectionate and well-matched. He wondered if an invisible glass shield separated him from the real world, or perhaps everyone outside was shrouded in a delusion while he alone screamed the hopeless truth.

“Others might not see it, but I can,” Levi paused, creating suspense. “Do you know when I first met Wen Jin?”

“When Zhang Qiannan was discussing marriage with him?” Levi was Zhang Jiming’s capable right-hand man at the time, and Zhang Liuxin knew that the former had mediated many matters for Zhang Jiming. This was why he was confused about why Levi would give up a good manager position to become his assistant.

“Where did you get that idea? They were nowhere near discussing marriage. Did you really think the Wen family was an ordinary family? At the time, only a rumor leaked from the Wen side. In reality, neither Chairman Wen nor Madam Yue, nor even Young Master Wen himself, had met with Chairman Zhang or Young Master Zhang.”

Levi didn’t want to keep him hanging and continued proactively: “It was at the hospital, on the third night after your car accident. I saw Young Master Wen at the hospital.”

That night, Levi was exhausted. After seeing Zhang Liuxin asleep, he decided to go home and catch up on sleep, intending not to return. After all, he wasn’t that close to the young man. However, things had been chaotic lately, and his boss, Chairman Zhang, was furious and snapping at everyone. Seeing Zhang Liuxin alone, pitiful, and unattended, he came to look after him, hoping to avoid Zhang Jiming’s temper.

But as he reached downstairs, he remembered he had forgotten his laptop and had to turn back. Passing the nurses’ station, he was stopped. The night shift nurse asked him curiously, “Hey, a handsome guy carrying flowers just came and went into your brother’s room. Not many people visit late at night. Who was he?”

Levi frowned and asked if the person had registered. Seeing his serious expression, the nurse quickly found the registry and showed it to him.

At the bottom of the list, Levi saw a name signed with great flourish and beauty: “Yue Zhuo,” followed by a phone number. He glanced at it and immediately knew it was a fake number.

“What’s wrong, sir?”

“Nothing. I’ll go check.”

Levi put away his car keys and quietly approached the hospital room door. Looking inside, he saw a tall man in a black overcoat, his back to him, facing Zhang Liuxin on the bed. He was motionless, like a statue. Levi was puzzled. He searched his memory but came up empty, guessing the person might be Zhang Liuxin’s friend.

Unexpectedly, after a while, the person inside moved. He bent slightly and reached out a hand. Fearing the man might do something to Zhang Liuxin, Levi placed his hand on the doorknob, ready to turn it. Just then, the man straightened up again. Levi couldn’t clearly see his actions, but he inexplicably felt the man’s profound distress.

Seeing the person intending to leave, he quickly ducked into the adjacent corridor. The man came out and, thankfully, didn’t notice him, walking away quickly with his head slightly bowed.

Levi caught a glimpse of the man’s profile, and a spark ignited in his mind. He suddenly remembered someone: Yue Zhuo. Yue, as in Yue Yun, Madam Yue.

That person was Wen Jin.

Levi’s sleepiness vanished instantly. He walked into the room and, by the moonlight, saw a large, newly appeared bouquet of flowers on the bedside table, exquisitely arranged. His gaze shifted from the petals to Zhang Liuxin’s peaceful sleeping face. He suddenly realized that the young man before him was perhaps not as lonely or pitiful as he had thought.

The next day, his suspicion was confirmed because news came from the Wen family that Wen Jin would marry Zhang Liuxin. The engagement banquet would be small; they said the two families would simply gather once Zhang Liuxin was discharged.

He admitted he had selfish motives and was grateful for his own perceptiveness in noticing Wen Jin’s feelings for Zhang Liuxin. He found an excuse to volunteer to Zhang Jiming, saying he would be responsible for looking after Zhang Liuxin’s daily life. The key point was to report Zhang Liuxin’s status to Zhang Jiming in real-time. Zhang Jiming also needed a trustworthy person to ensure Zhang Liuxin properly fulfilled his marital duties, so he agreed without much thought.

After listening, Zhang Liuxin remained silent for a long time. Then he took a large gulp of water and slowly turned to Levi: “Why are you telling me this? To show that you actually came to be my assistant because of Wen Jin?”

Levi hadn’t expected him to focus on that. His expression momentarily panicked, and he vehemently denied it: “No. Well, yes, at least at first. But after all these years, I truly regard you as my own child. As for Chairman Zhang, I’ve rarely been in contact with him since the third year of your marriage. Seeing you and Wen Jin perform well at events, he stopped asking too many questions.”

“You’re only a few years older than me, calling me your child. Isn’t that annoying?”

Zhang Liuxin curved his lips into a slight smile, but it quickly returned to a straight line. He recalled that chaotic and painful night seven years ago. He hadn’t slept well every night, sometimes dreaming of his mother whose face he could never clearly see, sometimes dreaming of the fierce Zhang Jiming. Had he dreamed of Wen Jin? He couldn’t quite remember. He hadn’t realized Wen Jin had actually visited that night.

“So that’s why you said that bouquet was sent by the Wen family. I thought they were visiting Zhang Qiannan.” Zhang Liuxin was confused. Could it be that even then, Wen Jin already felt…

“Yes, Zhang Qiannan did receive many flowers, but none from the Wen family. Also, Liuxin, I think I was mistaken. I feel you rely heavily on Young Master Wen, but it’s more than that. Young Master Wen also relies heavily on you.”

“…” Zhang Liuxin was quiet for a moment.

“Levi,” after a while, he looked up at Levi, having thought of something. “If I don’t return to Yinzhou, what will happen?”

Levi’s face changed: “What do you mean?”

The first time he saw Zhang Liuxin here, he noticed something was off—a sense of vitality and liveliness emanating from Zhang Liuxin. He didn’t know what had happened during his time in Bernlin State, but he could tell that Zhang Liuxin had figured some things out.

“It means nothing.” Zhang Liuxin lowered his eyes, appearing as if it were a casual question he hadn’t taken to heart, but Levi knew otherwise.

Just then, the doorbell rang. Zhang Liuxin’s breathing hitched. Levi noticed he was nervous, patted his shoulder, and got up to open the door.

“Colonel Duan?” The person outside surprised him.

“Hello, is Zhang Liuxin here?” Duan Chengzhi asked politely.

Zhang Liuxin stood up and walked to the door. Seeing him, Duan Chengzhi’s expression softened slightly: “Liuxin, can we talk?”

Levi subtly stood in front of him. Zhang Liuxin nodded: “Okay.”

He gave Levi a relaxed smile and followed Duan Chengzhi out the door.

“Colonel Duan, Wen Jin and I are just having a disagreement. It’s not serious enough to trouble you to act as a mediator.” The two returned to the tea room. The glass shards on the floor had been cleaned up. They sat facing each other by the window. Zhang Liuxin held his forehead. His emotions had experienced several major fluctuations today, and facing Duan Chengzhi now, he couldn’t manage any polite words.

Duan Chengzhi wasn’t annoyed. He shrugged: “I know, but he’s my only younger brother. I can’t help but side with him.”

“You were clearly keeping things from me,” Zhang Liuxin said helplessly.

“Yes, we were definitely wrong about that. I also owe you an apology. A slip-up occurred that put you and Wen Jin in danger.”

Zhang Liuxin had heard apologies many times today. His expression was weary, and he didn’t respond.

“I grew up with Wen Jin. He doesn’t talk much, and his personality is cold. I always liked to tease him,” Duan Chengzhi said. This was the first time he had talked about Wen Jin with Zhang Liuxin in all the years they had been married. “He could handle the teasing and never got angry with me. However, I remember the most recent time he complained about me was a few years ago when I asked him to pick someone up for me.”

Zhang Liuxin remembered. That period was when their marriage came closest to a “marital crisis.” It started when the media photographed Wen Jin leaving a hotel with a popular, sought-after singer and then taking the same car back to a villa owned by Wen Jin.

Their marriage had never shown any cracks, so the news quickly sparked public discussion. Many people at the TV station were gloating—many resented him for using his Wen and Zhang family connections to parachute into the station and get his own program.

Zhang Liuxin didn’t care much. At that time, he was almost numb to the words of others, just feeling tired. He wondered why Wen Jin hadn’t been more discreet. Causing such a scandal would only make their already non-substantive marriage more embarrassing.

He hadn’t asked Wen Jin about it. In fact, on the day the scandal broke, Wen Jin left for a business trip in another city, and they didn’t even see each other.

Until one day, when he was on leave at home, Duan Chengzhi suddenly showed up. Wen Jin wasn’t home. He and his elder brother-in-law, with whom he rarely spoke, sat awkwardly on the sofa. Perhaps because of the intimidating aura of Duan Chengzhi, a long-time military man, Camellia was terrified and had long since fled upstairs.

“Colonel Duan, is there something you need? Wen Jin isn’t home.” Zhang Liuxin asked tentatively, unable to figure out the purpose of the visit in Wen Jin’s absence.

“I know he’s not home. He’s been flying around lately, inspecting a subsidiary for my aunt’s husband.”

Zhang Liuxin nodded awkwardly, unsure why the man was telling him this.

“Brother-in-law.”

Duan Chengzhi cleared his throat. The address startled Zhang Liuxin, who instinctively responded, “What is it?”

“I’m here to apologize to you this time. Wen Jin’s scandal was purely baseless. That singer named Xia is my boyfriend. At the time, I was tied up with military matters, and my boyfriend was targeted by malicious people. I truly couldn’t get away and didn’t trust anyone else, so I asked Wen Jin, who was nearby, to pick him up. They weren’t in the same car. Wen Jin has never even stayed in that suburban villa of his; it was just used as a cover to switch cars there. He eventually delivered my boyfriend to my apartment.”

At the time, Zhang Liuxin didn’t understand why the busy Duan Chengzhi felt the need to personally visit and explain this. In fact, even if he had misunderstood, it wouldn’t have affected anything. His relationship with Wen Jin was a contract worth hundreds of millions. To put it bluntly, even if Wen Jin kept a harem at Wenfei Terrace, Zhang Liuxin shouldn’t have any opinion.

“Wen Jin was very angry about this. He was also busy and couldn’t come back to explain personally, so he insisted that I come to Wenfei Terrace to clarify the truth.”

“I didn’t care much,” Zhang Liuxin said, looking away after hearing the explanation.

Duan Chengzhi, however, seemed to see right through him: “But Wen Jin cared a lot. He cared even back in college. There was a friend you were close to then, and he always disliked him, mentioning it to Zi Xia several times.”

Zhang Liuxin suddenly froze, staring blankly at him, asking slowly as if finding it hard to comprehend: “College? He already…”

The word “liked” was difficult to utter, like it had thorns. Duan Chengzhi, however, accepted it openly, spilling all the secrets of his inarticulate cousin: “Of course. He wanted to marry you a long time ago.”