Still Frame Chapter 62

Chapter 62 The Beloved Must Love

The moment my eyes met Wen Jin’s, an unknown chill crept up my spine. Zhang Liuxin shook his head slightly, pushing those absurd conjectures out of his mind. Seeing his silence, Levi asked what was wrong.

“N-nothing. Will you be coming over with him then?”

“I don’t know. You know Colonel Duan is not that easy to reach.”

At that moment, Wen Jin leaned in, his lips just an inch or two from Zhang Liuxin’s cheek, and spoke into the receiver: “If there’s nothing else, just come with Duan Chengzi. You can contact Zhong Sixun.”

Both Levi and Zhang Liuxin paused for two seconds, but Levi was the first to respond: “Understood, Young Master Wen.”

Before hanging up, Levi added: “Also, Zhang Liuxin, I know you’ve been looking for a lawyer.”

“We can discuss that after you arrive.”

Levi hummed: “In short, don’t overthink things. We’ll talk about all this when you get back.”

After hanging up, Zhang Liuxin turned his head, and Wen Jin’s kiss landed naturally and softly on his cheek.

“Wen Jin…” Zhang Liuxin’s mind was a mess because of Levi’s last sentence. Everything went blank after Wen Jin kissed him.

“What did your assistant say?”

That kiss was too confusing. Zhang Liuxin was thirty years old, yet he was still so easily captivated by the man beside him. Perhaps the past few days of interaction had given him confidence, or perhaps it was the things Da Ping had said. He hesitated, then replied: “He said there were no issues with the TV station, but the Zhang family is in chaos right now, because, because Zhang Qiannan woke up.”

This was the first time the name “Zhang Qiannan” had formally appeared in his conversation with Wen Jin in his memory. He held his breath, barely daring to look at Wen Jin’s expression, feeling like a condemned man waiting for the executioner’s blade to fall, waiting for his husband to deliver the final verdict.

“Oh.”

The blade did not fall, nor did Wen Jin grant him a full pardon, but what did that “oh” mean?

Zhang Liuxin looked over in confusion, finding Wen Jin’s face devoid of expression, as if he didn’t know who Zhang Qiannan was.

The pent-up emotions desperately needed release. Zhang Qiannan was always a thorn in his heart, and Wen Jin’s reaction left him baffled, so he asked again: “What do you… think?”

“What do I think? What should I think,” Wen Jin continued, “What does it have to do with me?”

Zhang Liuxin wanted to say, wasn’t that your former fiancé, but the words caught in his throat. Indeed, Wen Jin and Zhang Qiannan had no relationship now.

“Alright then.” Zhang Liuxin turned his head, wishing he hadn’t asked.

Wen Jin pinched his chin and turned him back, asking: “What did I tell you the day before yesterday? You’re speaking in riddles again, making me guess. The last person who left me with so many questions was my doctoral advisor.”

Wen Jin’s sudden, inexplicable, and accidental dry humor.

“What kind of reaction do you want from me?” Wen Jin asked.

“It’s just,” Zhang Liuxin gave up, “I thought you would ask more about Zhang Qiannan. Didn’t you two, uh, know each other since childhood?”

He still couldn’t say the word “fiancé,” because Zhang Liuxin had a faint premonition that Wen Jin might get angry if he did.

“The people I’ve known since childhood are Duan Chengzi, He Qing, and Lü Zixia. As for Zhang Qiannan, he and you are the ones who grew up together. I’m not familiar with him,” Wen Jin frowned. “Zhang Liuxin, do you have some misconceptions about me?”

Zhang Qiannan is his younger brother, of course they knew each other since childhood… Zhang Liuxin snapped back to reality, already sensing a subtle annoyance in Wen Jin’s tone. This question was truly embarrassing. He felt his face flushing, and he averted his gaze, saying: “I don’t think so.”

So Wen Jin wasn’t familiar with Zhang Qiannan? Zhang Liuxin knew he shouldn’t still be dwelling on this. After all, he and Wen Jin had been married for seven years, and Zhang Qiannan had been lying in a hospital bed for seven years after the car accident. But, but he didn’t want to deceive himself—he couldn’t forget or let go.

“You just can’t let go of this younger brother of yours?”

Zhang Liuxin’s eyes widened in horror: “Huh?”

God, what was Wen Jin saying?

“Stop talking about him,” Wen Jin said, displeased. “Why were you gone for so long today?”

Zhang Liuxin hadn’t recovered from the sudden jump in topic. He paused before saying: “I happened to chat with Teacher Da Ping. By the way, he knows who we are.”

Wen Jin didn’t care: “If he knows, he knows.”

The other man’s gaze fell back onto his face, and Zhang Liuxin detected a hint of desire in it. For some reason—perhaps pleased by the earlier phrase “I’m not familiar with him”—he was suddenly prompted to lean in and lightly touch Wen Jin’s lips.

“Also, I ran into Qi Yue on the way. She said her brother is getting married the day after tomorrow. The wedding is near their house, and she invited us to attend.”

Because of that kiss, which was bold for him, Zhang Liuxin looked away, embarrassed to meet Wen Jin’s eyes. He deliberately pushed Wen Jin’s hand away: “Let’s go. We should go out and help Sister Hui.”

Wen Jin raised an eyebrow. One hand landed on Zhang Liuxin’s waist, naturally pulling them closer together. Then he lowered his eyes and kissed his forehead.

Wen Jin seemed to have a special fondness for kissing the forehead. The dampness on his brow was fleeting: “Okay, I’ll make up for it later.”

Zhang Liuxin only understood the meaning of “make up for it later” that evening. He came out of the bathroom, steaming after a shower, and saw Wen Jin sitting at the table working on the jigsaw puzzle. His heart softened, and he slowly walked over. Before he could speak, Wen Jin precisely grabbed his wrist and pulled him close.

Zhang Liuxin was already weak. With a gentle tug, he inexplicably found himself sitting on Wen Jin’s lap: “Wen Jin!”

Wen Jin: “Hmm?”

He felt a pair of strong, firm thighs beneath him, and the other hand wrapped around his waist. This position was too intimate and ambiguous for them. Zhang Liuxin shifted uncomfortably: “Put me down.”

“Don’t move.”

Wen Jin used a little force to press down on his waist, leaned in, and kissed him, gently pecking and licking. Zhang Liuxin couldn’t resist, closing his eyes and enduring it, his back straight, curved like a beautiful violin.

“Why are you nervous?” Wen Jin pulled back slightly, asking with a hint of laughter in his voice.

Zhang Liuxin opened his eyes again. The attic was too quiet, unlike the damp, uncontrolled atmosphere of the cave that rainy day. Now, both he and Wen Jin were completely sober, which made the kiss feel even more blush-inducing.

“I’m not nervous,” Zhang Liuxin said, embarrassed, trying to get off his lap, but Wen Jin held him tightly, making him unable to move. “Wen Jin, let me down.”

Wen Jin chuckled twice, his face thawing like ice and snow melting. His beautiful phoenix eyes seemed to hold only Zhang Liuxin. Zhang Liuxin met his gaze for a moment and found himself lost in thought again.

“You do it yourself.”

Wen Jin tilted his head towards him. This was truly a move that broke the rules. Such a handsome, peerless face leaned in like this, eyes closed. Zhang Liuxin could clearly see the slight trembling of Wen Jin’s eyelashes. Was this a request for a kiss?

Zhang Liuxin was startled by the thought, but seeing Wen Jin still motionless, looking completely at his mercy, the itch in his heart grew stronger.

So he leaned in and kissed Wen Jin’s lips. Mimicking the other man, he extended the tip of his tongue and licked the seam of his lips. Wen Jin gently parted his lips almost instantly, and Zhang Liuxin’s tongue entered the warm, soft cavity. This was Zhang Liuxin’s limit. All his senses were magnified infinitely. He felt his face was about to boil, so he retreated slightly.

Unexpectedly, before his tongue could fully retract, it was hooked by the other party. Wen Jin took back the initiative, pulling him into a harder kiss. Zhang Liuxin felt breathless. He thought of Wen Jin’s favorite sport, diving. He had accompanied him once or twice, and now he felt like Wen Jin was diving, using him as an oxygen tank.

Wen Jin gave him the illusion that he couldn’t live without him. Zhang Liuxin was dizzy with passion from the kiss. When it ended, he was still dazed, clutching Wen Jin’s collar, until Wen Jin’s thumb brushed his lip corner, wiping away a trace of saliva. Only then did he fully regain his senses.

Certain physiological reactions were obvious, especially in this position. When Zhang Liuxin noticed it, he found Wen Jin was also looking at him.

His waist was gently patted. Wen Jin told him to sit beside him. Zhang Liuxin’s eyes couldn’t stop darting around. After a while, he spoke with difficulty: “Do you want to go take care of that?”

Wen Jin genuinely couldn’t hold back a laugh, adjusting his clothes: “It’s fine. Play with your puzzle.”

“Does that look like it’s fine…”

Wen Jin looked at him composedly. Judging only by his expression, he remained cold and indifferent, which gave him a strong, fractured sense of sexiness.

“Do you want to help me?”

Zhang Liuxin completely withdrew his gaze, certain images lingering in his mind: “Um… I could.”

“Forget it. Not today.”

“O-okay.”

Zhang Liuxin forced himself to focus on the puzzle, but his husband, having recovered from that moment, started causing trouble again. After helping Zhang Liuxin place a few pieces, he asked: “Haven’t you worn your ring in a long time?”

Zhang Liuxin froze, subconsciously looking at his empty left hand. There was no ring on his ring finger, nor a tan line. He suddenly remembered that ever since he took off the ring to help Tu Huisha look after the bakery, he hadn’t worn it for a long time.

Wen Jin, conversely, wore his often, outside of work.

“Yes, it’s not very convenient. That ring is too valuable.”

Unlike the rings they exchanged at their wedding ceremony, the ring he wore now was modified from a brooch Wen Jin used to wear. The diamonds on it were priceless, but Wen Jin had given it to him as casually as if he were giving a bouquet of flowers, telling him to wear it if he liked it.

Zhang Liuxin certainly liked it and had worn it once in public. But after that one time, he felt compelled to wear it every subsequent time, or nosy reporters would start speculating about their marriage collapsing. So the ring had become a special burden. Now that he didn’t have to wear it constantly, he felt much more relaxed.

“It’s not that valuable. If you don’t like it, just leave it. We can get a different one when we return to Yinzhou,” Wen Jin said flatly.

“No, I like it,” Zhang Liuxin quickly countered. “Can I wear it the day after tomorrow?”

Wen Jin curved his eyes: “Good. I like it too.”

Zhang Liuxin looked at his left hand. A simple ring was worn on his ring finger. Compared to someone of Wen Jin’s status, this ring was extremely plain. Because Zhang Liuxin wasn’t wealthy enough to afford expensive diamonds like him, he had commissioned an interview guest to design this ring. The raw material was unique; it only showed a blue light like ocean waves under illumination. He thought it suited Wen Jin perfectly, so he nervously gave it as a return gift. Wen Jin didn’t say anything, he just replaced his wedding band with this one, and never took it off for non-formal important occasions.

These kisses, this ring, and everything that had happened these past few days were all reminding Zhang Liuxin of a fact he had overlooked, yet which was now screamingly obvious.

Wen Jin… might like him. Not the kind of liking he displayed in front of the cameras, not the so-called role-playing of lovers, but genuinely, liking him.

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