Still Frame Chapter 13
byChapter 13 Dark Lantern (1)
“What are you thinking about?”
Wen Jin looked over, his gaze falling on the newspaper Zhang Liuxin was holding. “That photo is very blurry.”
Zhang Liuxin snapped back to attention. Because the wedding was kept secret, the only photo that circulated was an aerial view of the manor. It was indeed very blurry, and the clearest part happened to be the back garden with a large patch of flowers.
“I was thinking about Camellia.”
Zhang Liuxin tidied the newspaper and handed it back to Uncle Feng.
“So concerned about it,” Wen Jin crossed his arms, looking at him with an air of composure. “Sheds too much fur.”
Zhang Liuxin defended the kitten, “It’s not doing it on purpose.”
Wen Jin narrowed his eyes, his voice laced with amusement. “Spoiled.”
“You don’t like it anyway.”
The two walked out of the bookstore. Outside, the moonlight was soft and bright, the high moon casting a silvery glow like gauze.
“I don’t like animals that shed,” Wen Jin’s voice stood out clearly in the night. “But I still let you bring it over.”
Zhang Liuxin’s eyes flickered.
After the wedding, he was arranged by the Wen family to move into Wen Jin’s house in Wenfei Terrace. Not long after, Zhong Sixun sent the kitten over.
He was both delighted and worried that Wen Jin would dislike it. Fortunately, Wen Jin only glanced at it, telling him to be careful not to get cat hair everywhere, and said nothing more.
He named the kitten Camellia, and they had kept it for seven years. Although Camellia was nearly eight now, he still didn’t understand why Wen Jin, who disliked cats, allowed him to keep one.
“Don’t worry, someone will take good care of it.”
It was rare to hear such words from Wen Jin. Zhang Liuxin nodded, assuming it was out of consideration for the seven years of cohabitation with Camellia.
There was a considerable distance from Uncle Feng’s bookstore to the bakery. Zhang Liuxin and Wen Jin walked side by side, and many passersby cast glances at them, but they were all gentle and friendly.
They even ran into the young girl who had visited the bakery that afternoon. When she saw them, her eyes lit up, and she happily ran over, saying, “What a coincidence! Are you two out for a walk too?”
“Yes, it’s cool outside, so we decided to take a stroll.”
“Me too. Oh, I haven’t told you my name yet. I’m Qiuyue, what about you?”
Zhang Liuxin said, “My name is Chen Liu, and this is Yue Zhuo.”
Qiuyue repeated the names, then familiarly leaned closer to Zhang Liuxin and whispered, “Your friend looks so aloof.”
The aloof “friend” spoke coldly from nearby, “Liuxin, what are you talking about?”
Zhang Liuxin felt that Wen Jin now resembled a high-maintenance child, made slightly more talkative due to his language barrier.
“We were introducing ourselves,” Zhang Liuxin smiled helplessly at Qiuyue. “He doesn’t speak Bernlinian and is generally quiet.”
He left out the other half of his thought: he found Wen Jin even more handsome when he didn’t speak.
“Is your friend married? He looks very young.”
Qiuyue feigned sadness. “Handsome men like him are truly scarce resources. They get snatched up the moment they enter the market.”
Zhang Liuxin couldn’t keep up with the young woman’s jumping logic, but he found the analogy quite apt. A man like Wen Jin—good family background, handsome, and capable—was indeed a scarce resource.
He looked at Wen Jin’s left hand. The ring was still on his ring finger. When did he put it on? Zhang Liuxin hadn’t noticed.
“Yes.”
Qiuyue continued to ask, “What about you? Do you have a girlfriend?”
The girl was enthusiastic and outgoing, and Zhang Liuxin found it hard to handle, not understanding why someone so boring as himself would be so interesting to others.
“Where is your ring?” Wen Jin suddenly spoke up from the side. The warm light from the streetlamp enveloped the contours of his handsome face, but did not add any warmth to him. “Why aren’t you wearing it?”
You’re the one who dislikes wearing rings. In Yinzhou, Wen Jin only wore it when they were photographed together.
“I forgot.”
Zhang Liuxin replied to Qiuyue, “No.”
Qiuyue’s face brightened. “Then…”
“I’m married,” Zhang Liuxin smiled apologetically. “Seven years now.”
Qiuyue’s lifted smile immediately dropped, her disappointment obvious. “Sure enough, quality men don’t stay on the market… Wait, you said you’ve been married for seven years? Then you are?”
“I’m thirty this year,” Zhang Liuxin sighed, half-jokingly. “Are Bernlinians poor at judging age or just overly polite?”
“I can’t tell. You look like you just graduated from university, very young, and very gentle. Your partner must be a gentle person too.”
Zhang Liuxin accepted the compliment with a smile. “Thank you.”
They soon arrived at the bakery. Qiuyue waved to them. “I’ll come buy bread again tomorrow. See you then.”
“Okay, be careful on your way back.”
As Qiuyue’s silhouette disappeared around the corner, the “very gentle” partner stood on the steps and said condescendingly, “Too much talking.”
Zhang Liuxin wondered what was wrong with this young master. Before he could reply, Wen Jin turned his back, preparing to go upstairs.
He locked the shop door. When he turned around, Wen Jin was paused at the stairwell, asking him, “Can you see?”
Before Zhang Liuxin could answer, Wen Jin extended a hand.
Zhang Liuxin took his hand, looking down at the path, carefully walking up.
The air in the attic was stale, so Zhang Liuxin opened the skylight. Through the narrow gap, he saw the brightest star, which must be the North Star.
After washing up, Wen Jin sat in the wicker chair. The book was on the table in front of him, and he gestured for Zhang Liuxin to come and sit.
“Where is the ring?”
Zhang Liuxin pointed to the bedside table. “It’s there. It’s inconvenient when showering.”
In truth, that ring was inconvenient for everything. Every time Zhang Liuxin wore it, he worried about scratching the rare and expensive green diamond, making him timid and cautious.
Besides, there was no need to wear the ring here. Its original purpose was to publicly display their “affection.”
“What is it?”
“Teach me Bernlinian.” Wen Jin opened the first page of the book and prepared paper and pen.
“We’ll be staying here for a while, and the language barrier is inconvenient.”
Although Wen Jin was usually a man of few words, it was impossible for a favored son of heaven like him to remain mute for long in an environment where he couldn’t communicate.
Zhang Liuxin never thought he would be the one teaching Wen Jin. Wen Jin was already a professor at the Yinzhou Academy of Sciences when he was twenty-six.
“What do you want to learn?”
Teaching Professor Wen always came with some pressure. Zhang Liuxin wrote down the few words he recognized from the book on the paper.
“Sky, sea, peach, lemon, goldfish.”
Wen Jin followed him, read them once, declared he had memorized them, and asked for something else.
Academics are truly annoying.
“Then let’s learn some conversational phrases, things you can use daily.”
“Mm.”
Zhang Liuxin thought for a moment and said, “Let’s start with ‘I’m sorry.'”
“I’m sorry.” When the phrase flowed smoothly from Wen Jin’s mouth, Zhang Liuxin’s eyes widened slightly.
“Young Master Wen, is this your first time saying ‘I’m sorry’?”
Wen Jin looked at him as if he were looking at Camellia peeing outside the litter box—like an idiot. “Do you watch too many TV dramas?”
“I just feel like I’ve never heard you say it. Then, ‘Could you please help me?’ and ‘Please wait a moment’…”
Some phrases Zhang Liuxin could speak but had forgotten how to write. He tried to spell them out roughly on the paper, but after several attempts, something still felt off. Frustrated, he crossed out the uncertain parts, sat up straight, and accidentally bumped Wen Jin with a slight movement of his arm.
He realized he was sitting too close to Wen Jin, close enough to feel Wen Jin’s breathing, practically leaning half his body against him.
“Apologies.” Having said it so often, Zhang Liuxin subconsciously used Bernlinian, pulling his chair away.
“It’s nothing,” Wen Jin also put his learning to use, replying in Bernlinian. He casually rested one hand on the back of Zhang Liuxin’s chair, pressing it to prevent movement. “I don’t mind.”
“Continue,” Wen Jin seemed unsatisfied with just these simple phrases. He asked, “How do I say, ‘I am married’?”
That was indeed a very practical phrase for Wen Jin.
Zhang Liuxin taught him. The word for “marriage” was a bit tricky, and it took Wen Jin several repetitions to master it. Listening to him repeat it so many times, Zhang Liuxin couldn’t help but smile.
This scene was peculiar. In Yinzhou, this was a fact that didn’t need emphasis, but here, in an attic in a foreign land, Wen Jin was repeating the phrase over and over like a beginner.
“So you told that girl you were married.”
Zhang Liuxin hadn’t expected Wen Jin to catch on so quickly. He hummed in affirmation. “I did.”
“Then how do you say, ‘We have been married for seven years’?”
Zhang Liuxin looked at him suspiciously. “I told Qiuyue that phrase too.”
“Teach me,” Professor Wen lifted his chin. “Also, the phrase, ‘We have a very good relationship.'”
Was Wen Jin getting too into the role of the model husband?
Zhang Liuxin often said that phrase too. He had told the lie so many times he almost forgot that there was no affection between them to begin with, let alone a good or bad relationship.
“You don’t know how?”
“I do.” Zhang Liuxin still taught him, word by word.
“Next time someone approaches you, repeat what you just taught me.”
It dawned on Zhang Liuxin that Wen Jin seemed to be bothered by the Qiuyue incident.
“She looks like a university student. I’m almost a full cycle older than her. How could that happen?” Zhang Liuxin found the idea absurd. “Besides, this isn’t Yinzhou.”
Was Wen Jin worried about rumors of “marital discord” spreading in a place where they didn’t speak the language and no one knew them, potentially harming both families?
“It’s precisely because this isn’t Yinzhou.” Wen Jin closed the book and stood up.
Zhang Liuxin didn’t understand what he meant. Before he could figure it out, he saw Wen Jin leaning against the headboard, staring fixedly at him.
Last night, the lingering tension of the escape and the emotional exhaustion after the shock had made him fall asleep quickly on the floor of the warehouse in Tuyier. When he woke up, Wen Jin wasn’t there, so he hadn’t felt anything.
But now, like this…
The bed in the attic was too small for two adult men. Just as Zhang Liuxin entertained the idea of checking the wardrobe for an extra mattress or blanket, he heard the student who had just been saying “Teach me” say, “How long are you going to dawdle?”
Zhang Liuxin resignedly walked back, removed his exoskeleton, and lay down on Wen Jin’s other side.
With a soft click, the attic plunged into darkness. Wen Jin’s calm voice drifted over. “Haven’t we slept together before?”
Zhang Liuxin’s breathing hitched. He didn’t know how Wen Jin managed to be so startling while sounding so composed.
In Wenfei Terrace, they cohabited, but in separate rooms. Yet, they had indeed slept together before.
Certain images resurfaced in the darkness. Zhang Liuxin felt his ears burning. He turned onto his side, facing away from Wen Jin, and closed his eyes.
Too much had happened in the past two days, and Wen Jin had become very strange. Zhang Liuxin had never been able to understand him, and it seemed he wasn’t allowed to.
He drifted in and out of consciousness, thinking about the messy past, until Wen Jin’s voice came from behind him again, “Zhang Liuxin, why didn’t you say you couldn’t sleep?”