Still Frame Chapter 85
byChapter 85 Goodnight, Goodbye
Zhang Liuxin subconsciously replied, “How is that possible?”
Zhang Liuxin remembered that the agreement was at least fifty pages long, mainly covering marital assets, the cooperation between the two families, and several confidentiality clauses. Wen family’s powerful legal team would never allow the Zhang family to exploit any loopholes in the prenuptial agreement.
“Then I will sever all financial ties with the Zhang family. As for my assets, I will draft a new will and have it notarized.”
The word “will” sounded so jarring that Zhang Liuxin blurted out without thinking, “Stop talking.”
Wen Jin fell silent, and a moment of quiet descended between them again.
“One portion for you, one portion donated to the university, and one portion donated to the stray animal rescue center,” Wen Jin said lightly, his few simple words effortlessly dividing his hundreds of billions in wealth.
“…”
After a while, Zhang Liuxin finally said, “Don’t talk about that.”
Wen Jin looked down at him, seeing his eyelashes flutter rapidly. Zhang Liuxin spoke in a very desolate tone, “I don’t need your… assets.”
He probably meant to say “inheritance,” but felt it was unlucky and swallowed the words before they fully left his mouth.
Wen Jin realized that Zhang Liuxin had only learned about his mother’s death this afternoon, and now he was talking about inheritance—it was truly inappropriate. The hand in his pocket tightened its grip on Zhang Liuxin’s hand. He then turned his head and pressed his thin lips against Zhang Liuxin’s brow.
“I won’t talk about it,” Wen Jin asked him, “Do you think Camellia misses us? We’ve never been away from Wenfei Terrace for this long, just the two of us.”
Zhang Liuxin shook his head. “Probably.”
On the third floor behind them, Levi stood by the window, biting an unlit cigarette, watching the closely intertwined couple downstairs. They stood for a while, but it was Wen Jin who moved first. He tilted his head, leaning his chin affectionately on Zhang Liuxin’s soft black hair. Even from the back, Levi could glimpse the man’s tenderness in that gesture.
He thought perhaps he had been mistaken. He had assumed that during their time in Bernlin, Zhang Liuxin was the one who relied more on Wen Jin. Now, it seemed this reliance was mutual. The silent man who had appeared by Zhang Liuxin’s sickbed seven years ago, shrouded in immense grief, overlapped with Wen Jin’s current silhouette, allowing him, even as an outsider, to clearly sense the man’s deep, quiet love.
The next day, the weather improved significantly, though it still wasn’t good enough for flying.
Zhang Liuxin hadn’t slept well the night before, waking up many times in a daze. Every time he struggled to open his eyes, his vision was filled with a warm yellow glow and the outline of Wen Jin’s chin.
Wen Jin held him the entire time. When he sensed Zhang Liuxin waking up, the hand resting on his back would gently pat him—he didn’t know how Wen Jin had self-taught himself the skill of coaxing someone to sleep, but perhaps it was something he had only learned since arriving in Bernlin.
“Let’s go say goodbye to them today. Brother Tu is also at the shop.”
Wen Jin picked out a thin fleece sweater and a shirt, neatly placing them by Zhang Liuxin’s hand. He didn’t leave, however, leaning against the door frame and watching him change.
Zhang Liuxin wasn’t in high spirits, but he wasn’t overly self-conscious either. He still had some marks that hadn’t completely faded—even after several days, Wen Jin had bitten too hard.
“I’m sorry.” Wen Jin saw the marks, shifted his gaze, and murmured the apology, genuinely blaming himself for his lack of control. No wonder Liuxin’s voice was always so hoarse when he called his name, as if suppressing something.
He might not have noticed the look of disappointment on his own profile as he faced Zhang Liuxin. Zhang Liuxin put on the sweater and jacket, then placed the conspicuous ring back on his left hand. He walked over to Wen Jin and tugged at his sleeve like a schoolchild. “Let’s go out.”
Wen Jin nodded, reaching out to hold his hand, or perhaps have Zhang Liuxin link arms with him as he did in Yinzhou. But Zhang Liuxin smiled and said it was too clingy, and the underlying sadness on his face dissipated slightly. Wen Jin relented.
Downstairs, they saw Duan Chengzhi frowning at his phone. His brow only relaxed when he saw them descend. The Colonel glanced at the couple’s matching colored jackets, their overly intimate proximity, and the ring on Zhang Liuxin’s left hand. He surmised that the young couple had likely reconciled, which at least saved him some worry. He casually instructed them to be careful on the road and return early.
Zhang Liuxin was using the exoskeleton again. It had to be said that the power of technology was truly formidable; he could walk and run naturally once more.
Tu Huisha’s shop was quite crowded. Perhaps because of their large entourage, the neighbors realized that the two Yinzhou people helping out in her shop were not ordinary folk and came over to gossip.
Tu Huisha saw them first and gave them a look. Zhang Liuxin understood, pulled Wen Jin’s hand, and led him aside. They only reappeared after Tu Huisha had dispersed everyone.
Tu Yi’er was also in the shop. Seeing that the two were no longer the down-and-out figures wearing his old clothes, but were now dressed in simple yet obviously well-made garments, they seemed transformed, almost intimidating to look at directly.
Children’s thoughts were purer. Duofei only thought Liuxin and Uncle Yue were handsomer. She went over and touched Zhang Liuxin’s jacket, saying it was soft and comfortable.
Tu Yi’er glanced at Zhang Liuxin, then at Wen Jin, and finally tentatively addressed Wen Jin, “You… speak Bernlinian?”
Wen Jin nodded. “Yes, I apologize for keeping it from you.”
Tu Yi’er said, “I knew I hadn’t misheard that night. Although I was definitely drunk, I don’t forget everything.”
After he said this, Tu Huisha frowned and scolded him, “You have the nerve to say that. You lose your mind whenever you meet up with your buddies. You’re not young anymore, stop acting like you’re in your twenties and drinking so much every time.”
Tu Yi’er smiled apologetically. Seeing Zhang Liuxin playing with Duofei, he vaguely sensed the other man’s heavy heart. He then recalled that Wen Jin seemed to have kept secrets from Zhang Liuxin too, wondering if there was a rift between the couple due to the concealment.
“When are you leaving? Is it safe in this typhoon weather?” Tu Yi’er asked.
“Tomorrow. We checked the weather; there won’t be rain tomorrow, so the journey will be safer.”
Tu Yi’er nodded.
Tu Huisha asked, “You still have some things in the attic. Do you want to pack them now or wait until tomorrow? Will you have enough time?”
Unexpectedly, Duofei hugged Zhang Liuxin’s neck tightly and mumbled, “Liuxin, if you leave this time, will you never come back?”
Zhang Liuxin stiffened, then gently stroked Duofei’s hair, answering softly, “I am a Bernlinian too. This is my hometown. Why wouldn’t I come back?”
“Really?” Duofei looked at Zhang Liuxin with teary eyes, her small expression so pitiful that Zhang Liuxin felt almost helpless, unsure what to say to comfort the child.
“Really,” Wen Jin bent down to meet the little girl’s gaze. “After we go home and handle some other matters, how about we send someone to pick you up? You can spend a few days on the small island where Liuxin and I held our wedding.”
Tu Huisha was about to say that children speak innocently and they didn’t need to humor her so much, but seeing Wen Jin’s serious expression, he didn’t seem to be joking.
“Sister Hui, Brother Tu, this is a small token of our appreciation. If we hadn’t met you these past few days, Wen Jin and I would have faced a lot of trouble.”
Zhang Liuxin briefly explained his and Wen Jin’s intentions. When he mentioned renovating Tu Huisha’s shop and installing solar streetlights for the entire town, Tu Yi’er interrupted in disbelief, “Wait, Chen, I know you are well-off, otherwise you couldn’t have summoned the mayor, but this is too exaggerated. You’ve helped Xiao Hui a lot during your time here, and Feifei likes you very much. We didn’t feel troubled, and you really don’t need to spend so much.”
“It’s nothing,” Wen Jin said dismissively. “We can fix the roads too.”
“…”
Zhang Liuxin smiled. “Brother Tu, don’t worry. He is very rich, truly very rich. This is nothing. If you don’t let us do this, we won’t be able to return to Yinzhou with peace of mind.”
Tu Huisha and Tu Yi’er exchanged glances, finally agreeing with some hesitation.
Zhang Liuxin and Wen Jin went upstairs to pack their things. At the turn of the staircase, Zhang Liuxin was preoccupied with his thoughts and accidentally bumped into the wall with a dull thud. The next second, Wen Jin’s hand reached out to take his. “Be careful.”
The attic remained exactly as they had left it. Zhang Liuxin looked at the slightly messy large bed, inevitably recalling the frenzy of that night. His eyes drifted, and he eventually walked over to the round table beneath the skylight and picked up the book to look at it.
They didn’t have much here to begin with. Even the paper and pen he used to “teach” Wen Jin Bernlinian on the table were Duofei’s old supplies.
“Do you want to take this book?” Wen Jin saw him staring blankly at the red-covered book without speaking. “Ask them if we can buy it.”
“No need,” Zhang Liuxin shook his head, putting the book down. He looked troubled by the puzzle, though. “We need to take this back.”
Wen Jin knew he treasured the puzzle. He nodded. “Take it back and keep working on it. Once it’s finished, we’ll frame it in the study.”
Zhang Liuxin smiled. The study was full of Wen Jin’s books and trophies, and even the paintings were eight-figure collectibles. Framing a puzzle on the wall there would be somewhat incongruous.
After packing the puzzle, Zhang Liuxin tidied the bed. Looking at the small, dim attic, a wave of reluctance flooded his heart.
They had sat together under the skylight watching the stars. When they slept, Wen Jin always held him gently with one arm, as if worried that the dim light of the kerosene lamp might melt him away.
“Let’s go, Liuxin.” Wen Jin called him, extending a hand wearing a ring. That small band had encircled Wen Jin for seven years, yet Zhang Liuxin only now understood that his husband was willing and devoted.
He couldn’t say he was profoundly heartbroken, but Zhang Liuxin felt the trajectory of this marriage performance was utterly unexpected.
Downstairs, Tu Huisha asked Zhang Liuxin if he wanted to say goodbye to Da Ping before leaving. “I was worried they wouldn’t have food during the typhoon, so I went over yesterday evening. Uncle Da asked about you.”
“Good, I should go say goodbye to them and Teacher Da Ping.”
As soon as Zhang Liuxin finished speaking, Wen Jin’s phone rang. Zhong Sixun called to ask about the press conference after their return to Yinzhou. Wen Jin quickly said it was canceled. The person on the other end must have asked something else, as Wen Jin frowned, showing a look of displeasure.
“You should go back to the guesthouse and deal with your business first,” Zhang Liuxin tapped the puzzle box with his knuckles. “Help me take this back. I’ll be back shortly after speaking with Aunt Mo and Teacher Da Ping.”
Wen Jin looked like he wanted to say something, but Zhang Liuxin curved his lips at him. “I’ll be back very soon.”
Only then did Wen Jin relax.
But as they parted at the intersection, his heart began to pound violently without warning. The intense unease made him subconsciously call Zhang Liuxin’s name.
“Hmm?” Zhang Liuxin’s eyes were like crushed green water. Seeing the distress in Wen Jin’s expression, he stepped back, giving him a fleeting kiss on the cheek. He smiled and said, “Professor, are you already missing me over such a short distance?”
Wen Jin slowly raised his hand, pressing Zhang Liuxin’s back to pull him closer. He buried his face in Zhang Liuxin’s neck and took a deep breath before saying, “Be careful on the road.”
“I will.”
Back at the guesthouse, he spoke with his parents in Yinzhou. Yue Yun’s voice was choked with tears, complaining that he and Wen Huaichuan had kept such a huge matter a secret, nearly costing him his life.
Wen Jin was helpless and had to explain to his mother over and over again. Fortunately, he seemed to have gained more coaxing abilities now. Coupled with Chairman Wen’s dry interjection of “Xiao Zhuo is fine, isn’t he,” which earned him a scolding from Yue Yun.
Wen Jin’s expression softened, and he smiled. Yue Yun saw it and leaned closer to the phone, asking, “Where’s Chengzhi? Where’s Liuxin? Why are you alone?”
Wen Jin turned the camera to focus on Duan Chengzhi, who was chewing gum on the balcony. The Colonel’s back looked unexpectedly desolate. Hearing the noise, he turned around and greeted his aunt.
“Liuxin met a fated teacher here. We’re leaving tomorrow, and he’s gone to say goodbye to the teacher now.”
Yue Yun acknowledged this with an “Mhm,” then added, “You kept this from Liuxin too, Ah Zhuo. Did you apologize to him?”
Wen Jin’s expression stiffened, and he nodded.
Through the screen, Yue Yun couldn’t discern any micro-expressions on her son’s icy face, so she continued, “Liuxin’s leg isn’t convenient, and he’s different from you. He must have suffered a lot during this ordeal.”
“I think they’re both having too much fun to think about home. Stop nagging,” Chairman Wen interjected.
“Huaichuan, I’m talking to our son,” Yue Yun frowned. “Ah Zhuo, Liuxin shouldn’t have been dragged into this kind of thing.”
“I know.”
Wen Jin replied in a low voice. The truth his mother had realized so quickly, he only had the chance to confess to Zhang Liuxin right before they left. Yesterday in the tea room, before Zhang Liuxin arrived, he had been thinking that he would tell Liuxin everything once they returned to Yinzhou. He would have a long vacation then, plenty of time to make amends to Liuxin.
He just hadn’t expected Liuxin’s reaction to be so strong. Now, hearing his mother say it, he understood the gravity of his mistake even more. He had clearly wanted to get closer to Zhang Liuxin, but the intimacy built on concealment was instead likely to push Liuxin further away.
Not long after hanging up the phone, Zhang Liuxin returned. Wen Jin noticed his expression was lighter, suggesting his conversation with Da Ping had been pleasant.
So, on this night before leaving Bernlin, he embraced Zhang Liuxin and whispered “I’m sorry” several times into his ear, mixing various languages. Zhang Liuxin pushed him away slightly, pressing against his chest, saying his ear tickled.
“We’ll bring Uncle Da and the others to Yinzhou later. Yinzhou has changed so much now; he’ll definitely want to see it.”
After saying this, Wen Jin felt the person in his arms stiffen. After a long moment, Zhang Liuxin turned to face him, his soft lips pressing against Wen Jin’s. He said in a gentle voice, “Alright, looks like Professor Wen is turning into the Yinzhou Receptionist.”
Wen Jin exchanged a goodnight kiss with him. Perhaps because he hadn’t slept much last night, now that he was holding his lover, his eyelids began to droop, and he felt drowsy.
“Liuxin, goodnight.”
—”Goodnight, Ah Zhuo.”
Wen Jin slept soundly, finally waking up to a knock on the door. He subconsciously tightened his arm, but feeling no weight, he abruptly opened his eyes. A shallow furrow formed between his brows, and he called out “Liuxin” in a slightly hoarse voice.
He received no reply. The knocking on the door intensified. Wen Jin changed his clothes and went to open the door, finding Duan Chengzhi standing there, still in the knocking posture. Seeing Wen Jin looking like he had just woken up, the Colonel said irritably, “What time is it that you two are just getting up? Did you stay up until dawn doing things last night?”
He pointed at his watch face. “Young Master, it’s nine o’clock now. We leave for Selin City at nine-thirty.”
Since the couple hadn’t shown up, Duan Chengzhi had taken on the role of a concerned older brother and personally packed breakfast. He knocked for a long time only to have Wen Jin open the door, looking bleary-eyed.
“Where’s Liuxin?” Duan Chengzhi asked, placing the breakfast on the table.
This question made Wen Jin freeze instantly. A loud boom sounded deep in his brain. As something finally clicked in his mind, a part of his heart collapsed heavily.
He rushed into the bedroom, flipping open the suitcase, displaying a panic he had never shown before. He tossed the clothes he pulled out onto the floor. Finally, he confirmed that two sets of Zhang Liuxin’s clothes were missing, along with his dark jacket.
He barely managed to stand up, unable to hide his distress. Turning around, he saw a piece of paper pressed against the headboard. His fingers trembling, he opened it. It was the draft paper Zhang Liuxin had used when “teaching” him Bernlinian. Wen Jin’s own written words were intertwined with the elegant handwriting, the strokes connected, just like their intimate ten-plus days.
A ring was quietly tucked inside. The expensive, rare green diamond seemed to have lost its luster, lying in Wen Jin’s palm like a withered, lifeless willow branch.
Wen Jin slowly raised his left hand. His ring finger was bare. Where was his ring? He remembered wearing it before going to sleep last night—this ring Zhang Liuxin had given him, he never took it off unless absolutely necessary.
Duan Chengzhi followed the sound into the room and immediately saw the distraught Wen Jin. His usually cold and arrogant younger brother stood in the middle of the bedroom like a dead tree, or perhaps a cold sculpture that had never possessed life. He was enveloped in an invisible, intangible sorrow, making Duan Chengzhi hesitant to speak suddenly.
After an unknown amount of time, Wen Jin finally moved. His long eyelashes fluttered rapidly a few times, and his back bent slightly. He tightened his grip, enclosing the abandoned ring tightly in his palm. The knuckles holding the paper turned white. He looked at Duan Chengzhi and said in a very low, hoarse voice, “He left.”