Still Frame Chapter 94
by“Will Camellia still recognize me?”
As the car drove through the gates of Wenfei Terrace, the feeling of nervousness about returning home grew stronger in Zhang Liuxin. He wondered how to coax the cat he hadn’t seen in so long, and whether Camellia still liked goat milk sticks.
“Don’t be nervous. He loves you the most, he’ll definitely recognize you.”
The climate had warmed somewhat on the journey from Aoba to Yinzhou, but Wen Jin still draped a thick woolen coat over Zhang Liuxin.
Wenfei Terrace looked almost exactly as it had when he left, except for many new flowers and what seemed to be a few fruit trees. He asked Wen Jin, “What are those saplings?”
“Leticia lemons.”
The two walked to the door, but no servants came to greet them or open it. It wasn’t until the iris scanner automatically registered Zhang Liuxin with a soft beep that the heavy door slowly opened.
“Camellia?” The house had a constant temperature system, and Zhang Liuxin felt a wave of warm air wash over him—a long-missed sensation.
He called a few times before a fluffy figure appeared in his sight. Camellia was quite old and didn’t run as spryly, but he looked very healthy. Hearing his name, he lifted his head and looked over. After a moment of olive-eyed mutual gazing, Zhang Liuxin eagerly squatted down, wanting to pet him. Instead, Camellia walked up to Wen Jin’s feet and rubbed against them affectionately.
Feeling deeply disappointed, Zhang Liuxin watched the white cat hair cling to Wen Jin’s trousers and asked curiously, “Has your OCD finally been cured?”
Of course not. Wen Jin expressionlessly pulled his leg away. Camellia seemed long accustomed to his coldness. Zhang Liuxin crooked a finger, and whether the cat recognized him or simply liked him, it stuck to him without reservation, purring under Zhang Liuxin’s palm.
Zhang Liuxin held and played with the cat for a while. By the time Wen Jin finally finished removing the cat hair from himself, he turned around to find Zhang Liuxin’s coat completely covered.
“Camellia.”
Camellia was very obedient. It jumped out of Zhang Liuxin’s comfortable embrace, tail held high, and went to find its food bowl.
“You two have become good friends.”
Zhang Liuxin deliberately tried to hug him. Wen Jin frowned at the cat hair covering him but quickly extended his arms and pulled the person close. “Aren’t we father and daughter? You’ve raised his seniority.”
Just then, Zhang Liuxin caught sight of Aunt Lin looking moved, and he realized that he and Wen Jin had been openly embracing in the living room. His face flushed, and he quickly broke free from Wen Jin’s arms, calling out, “Aunt Lin, long time no see.”
“Liuxin, it’s good you’re back, it’s truly good,” Aunt Lin wiped the corner of her eye. “Let’s eat. Look at you and Young Master, you’ve both gotten so thin, it breaks my heart.”
“Okay, I’ve been missing Aunt Lin’s cooking for ages.”
“I learned some dishes from your hometown. I hope they suit your taste. Come, try them.”
Aunt Lin’s cooking had always suited Zhang Liuxin’s taste, and he praised it constantly at the dinner table, casually asking if Wen Jin hadn’t been eating properly these past two years.
Aunt Lin glanced at Wen Jin’s expression. The latter was calmly holding a fruit knife, skillfully peeling a peach.
“Young Master, he doesn’t come back to Wenfei Terrace to eat much.”
After dinner, when Wen Jin went to the garden to take a phone call, Aunt Lin told Zhang Liuxin, “Young Master has been busy with work these past two years. I saw in the news about a major project for the Provincial Committee. He’s always running between the group and the school. In the evenings, he just grabs a quick work meal. He only eats at home maybe once or twice a week at most.”
Through the floor-to-ceiling window, Zhang Liuxin saw Wen Jin’s tall, upright back. For some reason, despite being such a formidable man, he felt an unwarranted sense of loneliness emanating from him.
How many times over the past two years had Wen Jin returned alone to the vast, empty Wenfei Terrace?
As if sensing his gaze, Wen Jin turned his head. Amidst the vibrant clusters of flowers—a stark contrast to the bleak autumn and winter—he smiled at Zhang Liuxin, then quickly hung up the phone and walked inside.
The two watched television in the living room. In Zhang Liuxin’s memory, the number of times this TV had been turned on could be counted on one hand, and opportunities to lounge lazily on the sofa like this were rare.
“What made you decide to make cat food?” Zhang Liuxin loved Wen Jin’s hands, always finding them distinctly jointed, like cold glaze, like a piece of art.
He was wearing a cashmere sweater now, with a thick blanket draped over his legs. Wen Jin’s gaze occasionally fell upon him, his eyelashes fluttering. Zhang Liuxin belatedly realized that Wen Jin might be tired.
“Finding something to do, cultivating a relationship with the cat.”
After so many years of marriage, Wen Jin, who usually felt uncomfortable with the slightest bit of cat hair, had actually sought to build a relationship with the cat over the past two years.
Just then, the news was broadcasting on TV. First, it reported that a charity foundation in Huan City had falsified its accounts, and the person in charge had rotten eggs thrown at their doorstep. Zhang Liuxin was reminded of the charity foundation Wen Jin had mentioned in a meeting, the one under their name.
It was their way of maintaining their public image, Zhang Liuxin knew. Reports wouldn’t even be handled by Chief Secretary Zhong Sixun; they had to pass through three levels before reaching Wen Jin.
“Are you in charge of the foundation now?”
“Yes, I’m managing it personally,” Wen Jin squeezed his ring finger. “Without supervision, some parasites actually emerged. They were bold.”
Wen Jin hadn’t told him that he took time every month to visit the charity organizations. He saw the wide eyes of the children, who occasionally asked him where Uncle Zhang was. It made him exercise more patience, explaining to every child that Zhang Liuxin would be back soon.
The news switched, reporting that Caliber’s capital chain was experiencing problems. Zhang Jiming looked terrible during the interview; Zhang Liuxin almost didn’t recognize him. Two years had passed, and Zhang Jiming had aged rapidly, visibly haggard.
The Zhang family felt very distant to him. He wasn’t particularly interested. Zhang Jiming, Zhang Qiannan—those names were like dragonflies skimming the water, passing lightly without leaving any ripples.
Wen Jin’s expression looked more annoyed. He reached for the remote and changed the channel, only to land on the entertainment channel, where the face of Zhang Liuxin’s university classmate, the host named Li something, appeared.
He decisively turned off the TV and called the cat over to distract Zhang Liuxin. But seeing the white cat clinging to Zhang Liuxin annoyed him again. Fortunately, the annoyance didn’t last long; the family doctor arrived. It was Elder Wu’s grandson, whom Wen Jin had called to help Zhang Liuxin regulate his health.
Wen Jin’s face was terrifyingly dark during the diagnosis, startling the young Chinese medicine practitioner, who kept throwing pleading glances at the kind-faced Zhang Liuxin, only to be met with a cold glare from Mr. Wen.
“He takes painkillers. Is there any way to alleviate that?”
Wen Jin listed several drug names, all of which Zhang Liuxin had taken before. Zhang Liuxin immediately realized that Levi must have betrayed him.
“Mr. Zhang’s body needs slow recuperation. He should drink Chinese herbal medicine, undergo acupuncture two to three times a week, and have one medicated bath.”
After seeing the doctor out, Wen Jin’s expression remained grim, reverting to the aloof Young Master Wen of the past. Zhang Liuxin said softly, “A-Zhuo, don’t worry too much. The doctor didn’t say there was anything seriously wrong, just my leg. It’s much better now.”
Hearing him mention his leg, Wen Jin shifted and asked, “Liuxin, a new generation of the exoskeleton has come out. It’s much lighter than before. Do you still need it?”
Zhang Liuxin paused. In fact, over the past two years, he had made peace with himself. Even at the war zone hospital, he would use his leg to comfort injured children, encouraging them that they could still play soccer and run once they recovered.
“If there are very formal occasions where I need to appear, I suppose I still need it.”
He was referring to the banquets and events he used to attend with Wen Jin, although he wasn’t sure if his current status was still appropriate.
“I know you don’t like it. There won’t be any more boring things like that in the future.”
Wen Jin hugged him again, using great force. Zhang Liuxin realized his husband might feel that if he didn’t hold him, he would fly away.
“It’s not that I dislike it completely,” Zhang Liuxin rubbed against his neck, smelling a fresh scent of aftershave. “I really like standing next to you.”
Wen Jin chuckled softly. “I like it too.”
The current Wen Jin was perhaps overly gentle and sweet toward Zhang Liuxin. Although he wasn’t quite used to it, the longing from their two-year separation served as a good buffer. People in love can never be close enough, even though they had been married for nine years and were both approaching their thirties.
After dinner, Wen Jin went to the study for an unavoidable video conference. Zhang Liuxin curled up on the sofa with the cat and contacted friends. He first called Jiang You. Jiang You thought she was seeing a ghost and insisted on a video call. The moment she saw his face, she started crying. Zhang Liuxin was never comfortable facing the tears of those close to him and was so flustered he dropped his phone onto Camellia. The cat let out a disgruntled meow, flipped over, and went back to sleep.
“Youyou, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Please stop crying. I’ll come see you as soon as I can.”
Zhang Liuxin apologized to Jiang You while soothing Camellia, giving her a rough summary of what had happened over the past two years. Of course, he skipped all the dangerous parts, only saying that he had seen a lot and finally fulfilled his dream.
“That’s good. Liuxin, I’m so happy to see you happy,” Jiang You said. “I’m also very happy to see you and Professor Wen together again—no, to see you meet again.”
He hadn’t expected Jiang You to mention Wen Jin. Jiang You hadn’t originally liked Wen Jin because she could tell that post-marriage, Zhang Liuxin was like a withered tree, not nourished by love. She felt Wen Jin wasn’t a dutiful husband, but there was nothing she could do; her devoted, romance-minded best friend had always secretly loved him.
“About a month after you left, Professor Wen asked me about some things from college. He never showed much emotion when listening, and I didn’t dare look at his expression. Until one time, I was scrolling through the Inter-Provincial University forum and saw that he had been wandering around the school frequently during that period—the library, the tennis court, and the coffee shop near the school gate that we used to frequent,” Jiang You said. “It was only when I saw the candid photos that I realized he wasn’t expressionless. He was very sad.”
Jiang You didn’t dare say it, but even though Wen Jin’s eyes hadn’t reddened once, she just felt he was crying.
“I think, despite all those unscrupulous media outlets claiming you divorced and spreading those nasty rumors over the past two years, anyone with a heart could see it, right? Professor Wen really missed you.” Jiang You wanted to say love, but felt that word should come from them.
“Mm, I know,” Zhang Liuxin replied, staring at the sleeping cat. “I know, Youyou.”
After hanging up, he contacted Levi. Levi’s voice also sounded like he was about to cry. Zhang Liuxin quickly reassured him, saying he was fine and back at Wenfei Terrace.
Levi: “It’s good you’re back, it’s good. It seems the talisman I got for you at Bao’an Temple really worked. I’ll go fulfill my vow tomorrow.”
“I thought you didn’t believe in that stuff?”
“Your husband donated six hundred thousand to Bao’an Temple. You should ask him if he believes in it,” Levi asked if he was leaving again. After receiving an answer, he paused before saying, “In any case, take care of your health. While you’re in Yinzhou, spend some quality time with Young Master Wen. He’s had a tough two years too.”
So many people told him about Wen Jin, Zhang Liuxin thought, yet in front of him, Wen Jin only looked up and asked him to stay by his side.
He had understood two years ago: Wen Jin didn’t say he liked him, but he arranged everything perfectly. Wen Jin’s I love you was the willow tree, the kitten, the night lights left on for him, and many hugs. Wen Jin saying please stay with me more was his hope that he wouldn’t leave again.
As long as Jin and Liu were happy, nothing else mattered.