Still Frame Chapter 91
byChapter 91 Reunion of Lovers
The deep, dark phoenix eyes, the perpetually straight thin lips, the long, beautiful neck, the perfectly placed small mole—these were the features he had thought of during his times of confusion and pain, the complete image of the person he always restrained himself from thinking about, who now stood before him, deep in his memory.
Wen Jin also looked over. He lifted his eyes lightly, his fluttering eyelashes seeming to stir up a storm that swirled between him and Zhang Liuxin.
In that instant, all surrounding sounds vanished, colors faded, and in Wen Jin’s eyes, there were only those olive-colored eyes that haunted his dreams. This rain, meant only for him, had finally fallen upon his shoulders.
Noticing that the person beside her had frozen, Bev nudged Zhang Liuxin with her elbow, puzzled. “Chen, what’s wrong?”
The next second, she saw Mr. Wen, who had been the center of attention, walking towards them, finally stopping just a meter away.
The investor was surprisingly young and handsome, though his eyes held an expression she couldn’t decipher—a mix of stubbornness and madness, yet calmly suppressed in the deepest part of his phoenix eyes. On his face, only a measured coolness and refinement remained.
Everyone around them looked over. Bev, driven by professional instinct, subconsciously offered her business card. She said to Wen Jin, “Hello, I’m Bev, a reporter from the United Press Conference.”
Her Silver State dialect was quite good. Wen Jin nodded, his gaze meeting hers for a moment. He extended his hand and shook hers, his tone surprisingly gentle. “Hello, I am Wen Jin, from Wenlan Group in Silver State.”
He handed his business card to his secretary. Only then did Bev notice that the secretary was staring at Zhang Liuxin beside her with a somewhat lost expression, as if seeing a familiar person he dared not recognize.
Bev finally understood the source of the strange feeling—Wen Jin had been staring at Zhang Liuxin since the moment he saw them.
And Zhang Liuxin, contrary to his usual self, remained unresponsive, looking somewhat distraught.
“Chen.” Bev nudged Zhang Liuxin’s arm again, signaling him to say something.
Wen Jin and his entourage stood right in front of them. Zhang Liuxin didn’t speak immediately, and the atmosphere grew awkward. Just as the mayor’s secretary was about to interject to smooth things over, Zhang Liuxin moved. He took a business card from his inner pocket. It was slightly crumpled and looked a bit simple when he handed it out.
“Hello, I am Chen Liu from the United Press Conference.”
Zhang Liuxin lowered his eyes, seeing Wen Jin’s expensive calfskin shoes directly opposite his own pair of ordinary, hastily bought leather shoes. He felt self-conscious, but suddenly, a warm hand covered the back of his. Wen Jin took the business card with one hand and held his with the other. The calloused pad of his thumb gently brushed Zhang Liuxin’s palm, fitting snugly against him and drawing them slightly closer.
Zhang Liuxin looked up in surprise, meeting Wen Jin’s smiling eyes.
Wen Jin smiled, not the deliberate, polite kind, but like a long-frozen river cracking open to welcome the warm spring. A faint light spread from his eyes to the corners of his mouth, softening the hard lines of his face. His voice was lower than usual, concealing emotions others couldn’t fathom. “Hello, Reporter Chen.”
This moment felt extraordinarily long to Zhang Liuxin, but to others, it was just a standard business greeting. Wen Jin then greeted the other reporters and was invited by the mayor’s secretary to take a seat at the front, leaving Zhang Liuxin standing there, curling his fingers, gently pressing his fingertips together as if trying to retain the warmth.
Seeing his lost and wistful expression, Bev followed his gaze to Mr. Wen’s tall, straight back.
In the two years she had known Zhang Liuxin, she had never seen him look like this. This look clearly suggested he knew Mr. Wen, and recalling Mr. Wen’s expression, it seemed he knew Zhang Liuxin too.
“Chen? Snap out of it. What’s wrong? Do you know Mr. Wen? I just saw his secretary staring at you the whole time.”
Zhang Liuxin withdrew his gaze and subconsciously pressed his chest. There was nothing there—unless he was going to the front lines, he usually didn’t wear the ring or his name tag.
“I know him.” Zhang Liuxin pulled himself together to reply, but in his mind, Wen Jin’s image began to roll uncontrollably again. Unlike before, this time Wen Jin’s appearance was clearer, closer.
“Then what is your relationship? Friends?”
What their relationship was, Zhang Liuxin also wanted to know.
Husbands? They hadn’t seen each other in two years.
Ex-husbands? But legally, Wen Jin was still his husband.
Friends? He and Wen Jin had never been friends.
“He is…” Zhang Liuxin stared blankly at the back that was half-obscured, his voice barely audible. “The person I love.”
Bev thought she misheard. She turned to look and saw a hint of moisture in Zhang Liuxin’s eyes. He then coughed softly, so she forcibly suppressed her question. She simply raised her hand and patted his back. As she withdrew her hand, she felt an intensely strong gaze, but she couldn’t locate its source.
The press conference officially began. The fragile, pained look on Zhang Liuxin’s face had completely vanished. He sat with Bev in the audience, a notebook and a voice recorder in front of him.
First, the host delivered an opening speech. Then, the head of the R&D team demonstrated the newly developed bionic prosthetic limb and invited someone to try it. Bev was selected. Everyone’s attention suddenly focused on her. Zhang Liuxin smiled and nodded at Bev, saying softly, “Go ahead and try it.”
The R&D team leader introduced the legendary reporter, the great woman, and warm applause erupted from the audience.
After fitting the new prosthetic, Bev tried using her new right hand to lift a table, carry things, unscrew a bottle cap, and finally, hold a pen. She wrote four characters crookedly on a white piece of paper.
“World Peace,” Bev smiled slightly, hugged the R&D leader, and said into the microphone, “Thank you. You have allowed me to write with my right hand again.”
After the experience, it was Wen Jin’s turn to speak. This item was not in the schedule Zhang Liuxin had received beforehand. Seeing Wen Jin step onto the stage, and his reporter colleagues raising their cameras and lenses, poised and ready, he gradually came back to his senses and typed the two characters “Wen Jin” onto his keyboard.
Wen Jin was as handsome as ever, refined and aloof. His gaze swept across the room, and Zhang Liuxin received a fleeting 0.01 second of attention.
“Hello, everyone. I am Wen Jin.”
Wen Jin paused, then remarked in a rather relaxed tone, “Oba is really cold.”
The serious atmosphere relaxed because of his comment.
“The product introduction for today’s press conference has been very clear, so I won’t elaborate further. I am here today as the representative of Wenlan Group, and on behalf of Wenlan, I have an announcement to make.”
“In the future, Wenlan will continue to provide financial support to the United Medical Technology Organization. Personnel from the charitable foundation under my and my lover’s names will also arrive in Oba and Segrant in three days to provide aid for the post-war reconstruction efforts.”
As soon as he said this, the venue erupted in an uproar. Looking across the major states, Wenlan was probably the only corporation daring enough to so openly admit to providing financial support to the United Medical Technology Organization.
Bev gasped, “My God, is Mr. Wen a god?”
Zhang Liuxin typed the word “lover,” his fingertip trembling slightly above the keyboard.
A reporter asked, “May I ask the reason for this decision? Did the decision not face opposition within the group?”
“What I say today is the attitude the group wishes to convey to everyone. As for the reason,” Wen Jin paused very briefly, his expression becoming even softer, carrying a hint of sorrowful nostalgia. “It’s simple. Reporter Bev just mentioned it: World Peace. This is my wish, it is my lover’s wish, and I believe it is the wish of everyone present.”
“All we can do is ensure that spring is no longer distant.”
Wen Jin’s speech concluded amidst thunderous applause. Bev couldn’t help but sigh, “People like Mr. Wen are truly rare…”
She looked at Zhang Liuxin’s expression and, recalling Wen Jin’s two mentions of his “lover,” tentatively asked, “Could that ring be Mr. Wen’s?”
Zhang Liuxin didn’t answer. He saved the document, uploaded it to the cloud drive, and tucked the voice recorder into Bev’s bag. He said, “I need to use the restroom.”
He walked quickly, his steps unsteady. By the time he reached the restroom, a thin layer of cold sweat had broken out on his forehead. His heart hammered, forcing him to gasp for breath. He splashed some water on his face, and after a while, he completely calmed down.
Looking at the dampness on his collar, the fully conscious Zhang Liuxin realized he had been far too distraught. Wiping it with two tissues did little good. It wasn’t appropriate to return to the press conference looking like this, so he took out his phone to tell Bev he would leave first and asked her to handle the wrap-up.
Wen Jin on the stage just now felt like a stranger to him—that gentle, soft demeanor, the faint smile on his lips, unlike his usual self. But soon, Zhang Liuxin began to reflect: what exactly did “usual” Wen Jin refer to? After all, during their time in Bernlin, Wen Jin had also been very tender.
Lost in thought, he didn’t notice the door beside him suddenly opening. A hand accurately grabbed his arm and, with lightning speed, pulled him into the room.
“Who!” Zhang Liuxin tensed up completely and instinctively shouted, “Help…”
His voice trailed off, becoming faint. A scent of cold pine lingered in his nostrils, both strange and familiar. Then, he moved slightly, his back hitting the light switch. With a soft click, the overhead light illuminated the room. Zhang Liuxin stared wide-eyed at Wen Jin, who was pressed tightly against him.
Wen Jin covered his mouth with one hand, staring intently at him. After a moment, he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss on his brow.
Only a hair’s breadth separated them. The person he had longed for was so close. The sounds of gunfire and cannons echoed in Zhang Liuxin’s ears again—in the past, he had always used the memory of Wen Jin’s face to distract himself from sorrow.
“Liuxin,” Wen Jin’s voice finally cut through all the illusions and reached his ears clearly. “It seems our fate is not yet over.”
He moved his hand away, looking affectionate yet sad, and earnestly pressed his fingertips against Zhang Liuxin’s cheek. “Why didn’t you say hello to me?”
Zhang Liuxin seemed to remember how to breathe. He said blankly, “Wen Jin.”
Wen Jin frowned, pulled back slightly, and sighed helplessly as he looked at him. Then, he lowered his head and rested his forehead against Zhang Liuxin’s shoulder—a gesture rarely seen from Wen Jin, revealing a fragile dependence that didn’t belong to him.
Zhang Liuxin had a sudden realization. He slowly raised his hand and placed it on Wen Jin’s back, embracing him. He said, “A-Zhuo, Senior, long time no see.”
When he raised his head again, Zhang Liuxin unexpectedly saw a flash of moisture in Wen Jin’s eyes, but it quickly vanished as if it had never existed. Zhang Liuxin’s heart skipped a beat—were those tears?
Wen Jin took his hand and led him to sit on the sofa, examining him from head to toe. Zhang Liuxin’s hair was cut shorter, revealing his delicate, handsome features. His green eyes, which used to be soft and deeply affectionate, were now tempered by time, becoming more resilient and brilliant. He had lost a lot of weight, his lips pale as if recovering from a serious illness, and his gaze towards Wen Jin was always slightly evasive.
Wen Jin quietly met his eyes for a moment, then suddenly opened his palm and asked, “Where is my ring?”