Still Frame Chapter 73

Chapter 73 Sweet Talk Trap

Wen Jin gathered his memories, the hand holding the wine glass slightly stiff from the evening breeze. He looked at the pitch-black night lake, then turned around, meeting Zhang Liuxin’s gaze.

Wen Jin walked over. The surprise in Zhang Liuxin’s eyes hadn’t fully faded, and he instinctively took a step back. His hand, suspended in the air, dropped. “It’s cold here. Let’s go back.”

Tu Yier finally reacted. Seeing the atmosphere between the couple turn subtle again, he had initially wanted to tell them not to argue, but seeing how refined and gentle they looked, they didn’t seem like the type to actually fight. He decided to leave them be, nodded to Zhang Liuxin, and wandered back with his wine glass.

A cold gust of wind swept past. Zhang Liuxin quickly blinked, staring at Wen Jin’s slightly pale, thin lips for a moment before realizing the other man was dressed too lightly. He said, “Okay.”

They walked back side-by-side, each step bringing them closer to the light and the bonfire. Zhang Liuxin’s mind was a mess. He didn’t know how to ask Wen Jin about it, nor did he understand why Wen Jin had suddenly uttered a phrase in Bernlinian, and clearly not one he had taught him, but one that showed he genuinely understood what Tu Yier had said.

Also, why did Wen Jin think their wedding was perfect? Was it really? Zhang Liuxin only remembered that marriage as a meticulously arranged window display, where everyone diligently played a role.

They returned to the bonfire, their bodies warming up slightly. Zhang Liuxin stared at the burning logs and quietly asked, “Wen Jin, you understood it.”

The moment the words left his mouth, he felt his heart pounding nervously. He was afraid of what Wen Jin might say, afraid of some truth hidden behind the secrecy that might shatter their current relationship and atmosphere. The mood had been so good today, and they had even shared several kisses.

“Yes,” Wen Jin didn’t deny it.

Zhang Liuxin hesitantly asked, “Have you been here before? Did you learn it for work?” Just like the other languages Wen Jin had mastered.

“I haven’t been here. No,” Wen Jin casually set his wine glass aside.

Then why? Zhang Liuxin wanted to ask, but seeing that Wen Jin didn’t intend to explain, he changed the question. “How much do you know? Why… why did you pretend not to understand?”

He didn’t want to use the word “pretend,” because the Wen Jin in his eyes—whether the aloof senior student from school or the distant husband during their marriage—had no reason to lie to him.

“Basic communication is fine. I can generally understand when you talk to them.”

Wen Jin paused, turning his head. Zhang Liuxin felt the other man’s gaze settle on his face and blinked self-consciously.

“After being a teacher for so many years, I wanted to try being a student.”

Was it because of the bonfire in front of them? Why did Wen Jin’s words carry such warmth? Zhang Liuxin finally turned to look at him, seeing the firelight reflected in Wen Jin’s eyes and a gentle smile.

“Liuxin, ‘I love you.’”

Upon hearing this, Zhang Liuxin instinctively wanted to correct him. Because of his momentary slip-up, Wen Jin had said it to him several times, though he hadn’t expected Wen Jin to be so brazen about getting it wrong after arriving in Bernlin State.

But then he remembered that Wen Jin knew Bernlinian. So he had known what it meant all along, and he knew Zhang Liuxin was deliberately misleading him.

But it was too cunning. Why would Wen Jin say “I love you” now? Saying “I’m sorry” would have been much better. Because of this evocative “I love you,” Zhang Liuxin spinelessly chose to forgive Wen Jin for keeping this secret.

“Fine,” Zhang Liuxin evaded the topic. “Then I won’t translate for you anymore. Talk to others yourself.”

He recalled the things he had said in front of others these past few days, taking advantage of Wen Jin’s supposed lack of understanding, intentionally saying “my husband” more than once. Although it was a legal fact, given the state of their relationship, it made his face feel hot.

“It would be strange to suddenly start speaking Bernlinian to everyone now,” Wen Jin moved closer to him. “We’re leaving the day after tomorrow anyway.”

Zhang Liuxin was startled. That was right, they were leaving the day after tomorrow.

Thinking of this, he abruptly looked elsewhere. Da Ping was sitting in his wheelchair, animatedly telling stories to a few children. He was very familiar with that nostalgic and proud expression, guessing he was probably recounting his career as a journalist again.

He nearly made eye contact with Da Ping. For some reason, Zhang Liuxin quickly withdrew his gaze. The tension between him and Wen Jin had eased considerably. He stopped dwelling on why Wen Jin had pretended not to understand Bernlinian; what he had said earlier about being tired of being a teacher and wanting to be a student sounded like a joke anyway.

Instead, he was concerned about Wen Jin’s back when he stood by the lake earlier. Tu Yier had been confused and hadn’t reacted. After Wen Jin answered in Bernlinian that the wedding was perfect, he hadn’t spoken again, silently looking into the distance. Zhang Liuxin couldn’t see his expression from that distance, nor could he gauge Wen Jin’s inscrutable emotions.

So he tentatively asked, “Then why did you say the wedding was perfect?”

A look of astonishment actually appeared on Wen Jin’s face, as if he understood the question even less than the person who asked it. Zhang Liuxin rarely saw such a vivid expression on the other man’s face.

There was a moment of silence between them before Wen Jin regained his usual calm demeanor, speaking in a somewhat cold, hard tone. “Do you think there was something wrong with it?”

The question, thrown back at him with similar phrasing, genuinely stumped Zhang Liuxin. In reality, their wedding was seven years ago, and he couldn’t recall many details. He only remembered that the weather wasn’t great that day, the many distinguished guests, the glances they cast at his leg, and Wen Jin’s wedding vows. Although he knew those vows must have been prepared for him to memorize, his intuition told him that Wen Jin might be displeased if he mentioned that.

So he chose a neutral topic—the cat they had kept for seven years. He said, “It was… it was good. Camellia was found that day.”

“You only remember the cat?” Wen Jin frowned, his expression stern, and his voice unconsciously grew louder.

“Of course not.”

Zhang Liuxin immediately denied it. His mind was filled with images of the kitten under the white camellia tree. Time really flew; Camellia was an old cat now… Wait, he secretly glanced at Wen Jin’s face.

Wen Jin’s expression seemed to be giving him a chance to provide an answer that would satisfy Professor Wen. But if Zhang Liuxin remembered correctly, the other man was the one who hid the truth first.

“Wait, Wen Jin, I was the one asking you the questions.” Bolstered by the alcohol, Zhang Liuxin asserted.

Wen Jin said, “Is there any other reason? I personally oversaw everything for the wedding. I thought it was absolutely perfect.”

That wasn’t exactly wrong. But the fact that Wen Jin had been fully in charge of the wedding—Zhang Liuxin hadn’t said it out loud, but he really liked the church, and he loved the blooming white camellias. And, of course, he loved Wen Jin that day the most.

Once the party started, it seemed endless. The children needed to sleep, so Tu Huisha took Duofei, intending to go home. Zhang Liuxin asked, “What about Brother Tu? He looks drunk. Should we help him back?”

Tu Huisha waved her hand. Wen Jin had already picked up Duofei. She casually thanked him, then told Zhang Liuxin, “They might play cards later and stay up late. They’ll probably just sleep here. Don’t worry about him, let’s go back.”

After seeing Tu Huisha and her daughter home, before going upstairs, Tu Huisha noticed Zhang Liuxin still clutching three flowers—two roses and one white lisianthus, which were slightly wilted. Seeing the two men’s shoulders pressed tightly together, she smiled warmly at them and said, “Good night. You two should rest early too.”

Because the Qiu family was celebrating, the streets were empty of other people. The two walked back under the moonlight again. Zhang Liuxin realized with a start that he and Wen Jin had walked this path many times now.

Zhang Liuxin said, “And here I actually thought you could learn Bernlinian so quickly, and I even told Brother Tu you were a genius.”

He pouted. The brain that had been seduced by Wen Jin’s “I love you” finally cooled down, and he was still quite displeased that Wen Jin had kept this secret for so long.

“I don’t talk much anyway,” Wen Jin’s voice was as cool as ever, but his words made Zhang Liuxin’s heart skip a beat. “This way, I could only talk to you.”

Zhang Liuxin thought about the past few days, where Wen Jin had only spoken Yin State dialect to him. This made him feel like the two of them were enveloped by a secret, bringing them much closer.

And he couldn’t deny that he really enjoyed the feeling of being needed by Wen Jin.

Still, his mouth wouldn’t let up, driven by his slightly tipsy mind. He said, “You understood everything. You even understood that the little boy likes you.”

The tone was neutral, but Zhang Liuxin had been drinking, so his articulation wasn’t perfectly clear, and the end of his sentence sounded sticky, which in Wen Jin’s ears sounded like whining. Apparently, a little alcohol could turn Zhang Liuxin into a cat like Camellia, even though Camellia had never whined to him.

Wen Jin tilted his head slightly, a low chuckle escaping his throat. He watched Zhang Liuxin’s subtle movements in the moonlight. The small brown moles beneath his eyes looked lively and endearing.

“Who likes me?” he deliberately asked.

Zhang Liuxin didn’t want to say Feng Xi’s name, as it would remind him of Zhang Qiannan. It took him a moment to realize Wen Jin seemed to be teasing him. He turned his face away, refusing to answer.

“Liuxin.” The professor persisted, genuinely looking like an eager student seeking knowledge.

Zhang Liuxin stubbornly interrupted him. “Don’t ask. I’m not telling you anything else.”

Wen Jin seemed to smile again.

Back in the attic room, Zhang Liuxin rubbed his arms, which were cold from the wind. Wen Jin told him to shower first. He nodded, but just as he stepped into the bathroom, he heard Wen Jin sneeze behind him. After standing by the lake for so long today, he hoped he wasn’t catching a cold.

Zhang Liuxin hesitated for only a brief moment before a sudden impulse made him speak. “Are you cold? Should we shower together?”

He merely thought the bathroom here was larger than the one in Tu Yier’s cabin, and there was definitely enough space for two. He hadn’t expected to see Wen Jin’s eyes darken.

“Are you sure?”

Zhang Liuxin suddenly wasn’t so sure. He took half a step back, intending to close the door, deeply regretting the thoughtless invitation. He had only been worried that Wen Jin might catch a cold.

Wen Jin already treated his invitation as accepted. He took off his jacket, rolled up his sleeves, and approached him, easily holding the bathroom door open with one hand. He looked at Zhang Liuxin’s startled eyes. “Why are you standing there? Didn’t you want to shower?”

One second he was angry, the next second he heard Wen Jin sneeze and was instantly mollified, even actively inviting him to shower together. —Zhang Liuxin