Still Frame Chapter 41
byChapter 41: Real or Fake (2)
A flicker of pain crossed Zhang Liuxin’s eyes. He slowly straightened up and asked him, “Should I get you a new one?”
Feng Xi’s scrutinizing gaze landed on his leg, then after a moment, shifted to Wen Jin. Wen Jin’s face was expressionless, his cold, indifferent gaze sweeping over them.
“Then please get me a new one,” Feng Xi rubbed his chin, sounding genuinely puzzled. “But you walk without showing any sign at all. What is that, an exoskeleton?”
Zhang Liuxin tightened his grip on the tongs and nodded. “Yes.”
He placed the bread in front of Wen Jin and told him to slice it again. Wen Jin didn’t move. He suddenly reached out and covered Zhang Liuxin’s hand, his brow furrowing slightly. “What are you talking about? You look terrible.”
Zhang Liuxin gently pulled his hand away. “Just slice the bread first.”
“It seems our state doesn’t have such advanced exoskeletons yet. This must be very expensive,” Feng Xi said casually, not waiting for Zhang Liuxin’s response. “You’re just bakery staff. Can you really afford an exoskeleton like that?”
The end of his tone carried a distinct hint of suspicion.
“Xiao Xi,” Tu Huisha returned, surprisingly followed by Tu Yier. “Are you here to buy bread?”
“Yes, I’m here for pineapple buns,” Feng Xi smiled brightly at the Tu siblings. “Brother Tu, long time no see.”
Tu Yier nodded, also smiling. “The college student is back. Do you still have homework?”
“Of course not,” Feng Xi took the bread, waved at Zhang Liuxin and Wen Jin, and then, with his back to the Tu siblings, winked at Wen Jin. “I’ll be back tomorrow to deliver the newspaper.”
Zhang Liuxin finally understood why Feng Xi felt so familiar—it was because he wasn’t like others; he was like Zhang Qiannan.
Like Zhang Qiannan, arrogance was etched into his bones, and beneath his innocent, harmless facade lay cold contempt. However, compared to Zhang Qiannan, who grew up in the world of fame and fortune, Feng Xi, a student in his early twenties, was still considerably immature.
“Chen, are you feeling unwell? You look a little pale. Did you catch a chill?” Tu Huisha asked solicitously.
Zhang Liuxin shook his head. “No, Brother Tu. Why did you come down?”
Tu Yier said, “I came down this time to ask for your help. My house on the mountain has been leaking a bit lately. Unfortunately, I tripped and fell in the woods yesterday, and my back is killing me. I also have monitoring duties coming up soon, so I wanted to ask if you two could stay on the mountain with me for a couple of days to help me get through this busy period.”
“Of course. You and Sister Hui have helped us so much; this is the least we can do.”
Zhang Liuxin translated for Wen Jin, who also nodded and said it was no problem.
Tu Yier looked at Wen Jin in surprise. “Yue, have you learned more Bernlinian recently?”
“I taught him a little,” Zhang Liuxin said.
“Oh, Chen, it looks like it might rain the next two days. The mountain will be slippery, and walking won’t be easy. Will you be okay?”
Zhang Liuxin lowered his eyes, thinking of Feng Xi’s recent comment about him being a “disabled person.” The other party hadn’t been wrong.
“I can manage,” Zhang Liuxin said. “The more people, the more help.”
“Alright, then let’s head up the mountain after dinner. I’ve driven the car down, and I also brought the peaches Yue liked last time.” Tu Yier opened the cloth bag behind him, which was full of fresh wild fruit.
Zhang Liuxin noticed Wen Jin’s eyes light up when he saw the peaches. He peeled one, deliberately extended it forward, and just as Wen Jin’s fingers started to lift, he turned his wrist and offered it to Duofei instead.
“Thank you, Gege!” Duofei thanked him brightly.
Wen Jin’s raised fingers dropped back down. He looked up, his gaze deep and resentful.
“Zhang Liuxin,” his tone became somewhat serious. “You always do this.”
Wen Jin looked like a camellia cat that hadn’t received its canned food, but he was clearly not a feline creature trying to be cute. “You use the language barrier to feign ignorance with me, and you let the child go before me.”
Zhang Liuxin had heard plenty of self-centered remarks, but this level of willfulness was a first. Zhang Liuxin chuckled, handing him the peeled fruit. “The child calls you Uncle. We should respect the elderly and cherish the young, shouldn’t we?”
Wen Jin used his knife to cut the peach in half, offering him one half. “Fine, cherish the young.”
He had discovered Wen Jin’s fondness for peaches by chance. After they started living together, the refrigerator was always stocked with various premium fruits. Wen Jin was rarely home, and Zhang Liuxin didn’t like things too sweet, so a lot was often left over. Wen Jin didn’t mind, telling Aunt Lin to distribute it among the servants and bodyguards.
One day, Zhang Liuxin was helping to clear out the fruit and took out a bag of fresh honey peaches, putting them into a basket, when Aunt Lin stopped him.
“Mr. Zhang, wait. Not those. Those are for the Young Master.”
“He likes these?”
Wen Jin rarely showed strong preferences for food, likely due to his status.
“He likes them a little more than the other fruits.”
Zhang Liuxin tried to observe, and during one banquet, the fruit platter was filled with various fruits. Wen Jin sampled a bit of everything, but he ate two extra pieces of peach. This made Zhang Liuxin feel that Wen Jin had become a little more tangible. So, the next time a fruit platter was served, he tried turning the side with the peaches toward Wen Jin.
At first, he was a little nervous, afraid Wen Jin would think he was meddling, but thankfully, he didn’t. After that, it became a habit.
“What did Uncle Feng’s son say to you?”
Wen Jin seemed particularly concerned, asking again after finishing the peach.
Zhang Liuxin didn’t know how to bring it up. Should he say that Feng Xi asked if he was disabled? His own acceptance of the fact didn’t mean he could state it so frankly.
“In exchange for me peeling your peach, can you please not ask?” Zhang Liuxin tentatively suggested.
Wen Jin didn’t ask again, but he didn’t speak much to Zhang Liuxin until they set off.
“Are you two sitting in the back again?”
Seeing Brother Tu’s old pickup truck again, it felt like the vehicle had aged considerably. Zhang Liuxin nodded.
Wen Jin got into the car quickly. Zhang Liuxin struggled slightly, unable to exert force with his left leg.
“Zhang Liuxin,” Wen Jin called his full name again. Zhang Liuxin detected a rare hint of emotion in his voice. “Hand.”
The Professor still had a cold expression, but he extended a hand toward him. After Zhang Liuxin used the leverage to get into the car, he felt Wen Jin’s other hand steady his waist with a slightly heavy force. He briefly wondered if Wen Jin was retaliating for the peach incident.
“Are you settled?” Brother Tu poked his head out of the driver’s window, asking loudly.
“We’re settled.”
Duofei waved at them, shouting, “Goodbye! Come back soon!”
Zhang Liuxin looked at the little girl’s adorable smile, a warm current flowing through his heart. He genuinely felt like he had family waiting for him at home.
“Okay.” Zhang Liuxin waved back at her.
The car started abruptly. He was thrown by the inertia, sliding into Wen Jin’s chest. The next second, Wen Jin raised his hand and waved at Duofei, then retracted his arm, placing it on Zhang Liuxin’s shoulder. With an undeniable firmness, he pulled him close. A slight tremor ran through Zhang Liuxin’s shoulder blade, followed by Wen Jin’s cool voice telling him, “Sit still.”
Their posture was too intimate. Zhang Liuxin felt uncomfortable but couldn’t move, so he sat quietly, shifting his attention to the outside of the car.
The sky was darkening, and the forest seemed much more dangerous. Zhang Liuxin suddenly remembered Wen Jin’s military background and asked, “Wen Jin, did you have to go to the military base every holiday before?”
When he and Wen Jin were alone before, he rarely asked about Wen Jin’s past. Recently, perhaps because their time together had lengthened, or because the darkening night lowered their defenses, he finally asked.
Wen Jin seemed surprised that he had spoken up suddenly. He paused before answering, “Almost every student holiday, except for the year I went to Wuling.”
Wuling was where they had gone for the research trip, which was actually just an excuse for children from several prominent families to network and build relationships.
“Did you go with Colonel Duan?”
Zhang Liuxin was genuinely curious about Wen Jin’s life. He had been since university. Not curious about Wen Jin’s busy and demanding work after marriage, but interested in his student days. He always wanted to know what the senior, who always appeared so brilliant in his eyes, did besides research.
“Sometimes,” Wen Jin paused. “Why do you still call him Colonel Duan? Does the rank sound more impressive?”
Zhang Liuxin, unable to predict Wen Jin’s thought process: “…”
“What should I call him then?”
Wen Jin mentioned his poor memory, then added, “When Duan Chengzi came to our house after we got married, didn’t he tell you to call him Ge?”
Duan Chengzi’s exact words at the time were, “Since you’re married to A-Zhuo, just call me Ge or Brother Duan, like him.” But Zhang Liuxin noticed Wen Jin rarely called Duan Chengzi Ge, which seemed consistent with the eldest young master’s personality. In short, Wen Jin usually just called him by name.
But Wen Jin’s use of “our house” made him feel much warmer inside, and his courage grew. “You don’t call him that either.”
“He was just born two years earlier,” Wen Jin continued the previous topic. “When I was younger, Madam Yue would have him look after me, worried I’d get beaten up for talking back. Later, it wasn’t necessary, and Duan Chengzi wasn’t happy about it either.”
Zhang Liuxin couldn’t help but laugh out loud. So, Wen Jin’s mother knew about her son’s terrible temper.
“Then why wasn’t Brother Duan happy about it?”
Wen Jin pursed his lips and turned his head, looking away. Zhang Liuxin suspected he was avoiding the question and deliberately asked, “Wen Jin, didn’t you hear me?”
The mountain road was steep, but Wen Jin held him very steadily, which felt reassuring.
Occasionally, small nocturnal animals startled by the sound of the car made noises, breaking the silence of the evening and perhaps giving them something to talk about.
“Because Duan Chengzi said I was too much trouble,” Wen Jin said in a dissatisfied tone. “Clearly, he’s just too messy.”
It was rare for Wen Jin to speak of his cousin in such a tone. Zhang Liuxin couldn’t help but curve his lips, feeling this might be even rarer than the emerald kudzu vine on Mount Luopu in his memory.
“I don’t think so. You just like cleanliness too much,” Zhang Liuxin coaxed, adding silently: plus mild mysophobia, severe obsessive-compulsive disorder, and the spoiled young master syndrome he’d had since childhood.
Wen Jin nodded in agreement.