After Abandoning Her, She Discovered That Her Partner Was a Paranoid - Chapter 21

The sleep hadn’t been restful; fragmented, illogical nightmares felt almost tangible, leaving Jing Feizuo with a dull headache even in her dreams.

When she finally blinked awake, the familiar bedroom brought a flicker of reassurance.

The room was empty, the bedside lamp casting a soft, warm glow.

Jing Feizuo sat up, grabbed her phone from the nightstand, and squinted at the time: 0:45.

Just as she was about to get out of bed, a familiar figure entered the room, carrying a glass of water.

Wen Jin looked surprised to see Jing Feizuo about to get up.

“You’re awake already?” She hurried over and handed her the glass. “Drink some salt water to replenish your electrolytes.”

“Why aren’t you asleep yet?” Jing Feizuo rubbed her temples, recalling the vague instructions she’d heard Lin Xin give Wen Jin in the car. “Did Lin Xin tell you to do this?”

Wen Jin nodded.

“She told me you fainted today.” Her tone turned sharp. “What happened?”

Jing Feizuo tilted her head back to drink, her expression hidden behind the glass.

Her voice muffled, she said, “I’ve just been too tired lately.”

Wen Jin’s brow furrowed, clearly dissatisfied with the answer.

Jing Feizuo pressed her lips together, as if restraining herself, but when the words finally came, her inquiry turned into concern: “Does your head hurt?”

Jing Feizuo set the empty glass on the table and shook her head.

Wen Jin: “Then why don’t you sleep a little longer?”

Jing Feizuo wrinkled her nose. “No, I want to shower. I was lying on the floor today.”

She moved to get out of bed.

Wen Jin stopped her, glancing at the pajamas she had changed Jing Feizuo into. “I already gave you a sponge bath. I removed your makeup and brushed your teeth…”

Jing Feizuo interrupted, her face paling with alarm. “And I didn’t wake up at all?!”

Wen Jin chuckled. “I did check your breathing several times.”

“Fine,” Jing Feizuo conceded, withdrawing her attempt to get out of bed. “But I can’t sleep now anyway. Are you tired?”

Wen Jin moved to the other side of the bed. Jing Feizuo felt the mattress sink beside her as Wen Jin said, “Not at all.”

Jing Feizuo rolled over, propping herself up on her elbow with her chin resting in her hand, gazing at Wen Jin.

“I remember President Wen always going to bed at exactly ten o’clock when she didn’t have work. How come since I moved in, you haven’t gone to bed before midnight even once?”

Wen Jin turned her head, reaching out to gently brush aside Jing Feizuo’s fallen hair with her fingertips.

“Do you remember the first time you tried to go to bed at ten with me? You tossed and turned for two hours straight,” Wen Jin recalled, unable to suppress a laugh. “The mattress was shaking so much it gave me a headache.”

Jing Feizuo rolled her eyes. Of course she remembered. The psychological trauma from the “Health Contract” still lingered.

And now, the contract remained, though it was far from healthy.

“Blame me?” Jing Feizuo grabbed Wen Jin’s fingers, deliberately squeezing them. “Why didn’t you just sleep in the guest room back then?”

Wen Jin countered, gripping her wrist. “Afraid you’d sneak out to paint in the middle of the night again.”

Jing Feizuo didn’t argue.

During that period, she had indeed been plagued by insomnia and bursts of inspiration. She would often slip away from the sleeping Wen Jin, only to be caught halfway through a painting by Wen Jin rushing frantically from the bedroom, sighing in relief upon finding her.

She muttered, “You hold grudges.”

After a moment of silence, Wen Jin suddenly asked, “Were you like this when you were a child too?”

“Like what?”

“Restless when you couldn’t sleep, always finding ways to keep yourself busy.” Wen Jin paused, her tone taking on a deeper meaning. “Do you remember?”

“I just remember bits and pieces,” Jing Feizuo said with a smile, rolling onto her back to gaze at the ceiling. “But you guessed right. When I couldn’t sleep as a kid, I’d draw until I was exhausted. One time, I drew until dawn. My mom came in and found me asleep on the floor.”

Wen Jin’s fingers gently twirled a strand of Jing Feizuo’s hair. “What kind of drawings?”

“I don’t remember,” Jing Feizuo said, squinting. “Probably just some random scribbles.”

Wen Jin: “You’ve always been good at drawing.”

Jing Feizuo initially agreed: “I always got an ‘Excellent Award’ in the school art competitions in elementary school.”

Then she countered: “But later I found out the ‘Excellent Award’ was just a fancy name for a participation certificate—everyone got one.”

Wen Jin chuckled, her fingers sliding down to gently take Jing Feizuo’s hand.

Jing Feizuo stared at their clasped hands. “President Wen, are you trying to comfort me?”

“No,” Wen Jin said calmly. “I’m just preventing you from suddenly jumping up to dig out those old drawings.”

Jing Feizuo burst into laughter, flipping over to pin Wen Jin down, her long hair cascading across Wen Jin’s face. “Wen Jin, sometimes you’re really—”

“Really what?”

“Really annoying.”

Wen Jin’s lips curved slightly as she threaded her fingers through Jing Feizuo’s hair and gently pressed down.

Caught off guard, Jing Feizuo lowered her head, her kiss landing on the corner of Wen Jin’s lips.

“You can only bother me in bed,” Wen Jin murmured, maintaining the position as she lightly kissed Jing Feizuo’s eyelid before switching off the light. “Sleep now.”

The moon outside seemed to be hidden behind clouds. The moment the warm light extinguished, Jing Feizuo felt the darkness was oppressively thick.

The darkness enveloped them both, subtly altering the atmosphere in the room.

Instead of sleeping, Jing Feizuo suddenly asked, “Wen Jin, if I wanted to cause trouble for a few people, do you have any suggestions?”

The question carried a hidden meaning.

Wen Jin’s brow furrowed deeply in the darkness, her voice sharpening with alertness. “Is this about the gathering today…?”

“They threatened to leak my high school history to the press,” Jing Feizuo replied, her eyes gradually adjusting to the dark, allowing her to vaguely discern Wen Jin’s silhouette beside her. “I don’t like people knowing so much about my private life, and I certainly don’t like being investigated.”

Wen Jin paused for a few seconds.

“I understand. Tell me their names, and I’ll handle it.” She paused again, then added, “I won’t do anything you dislike.”

Jing Feizuo closed her eyes, offering no further response.

Her forehead rested against Wen Jin’s shoulder as the gentle night breeze drifted through the open window, rustling softly against the windowsill like invisible hands caressing the night.

As the morning light seeped through the curtains, Jing Feizuo woke first.

Wen Jin was still asleep beside her, her breathing soft and even. She lay perfectly still, her dark hair spread across the pillow, radiating an unguarded softness that seemed to have been washed clean of its usual sharpness by the morning mist.

Jing Feizuo gazed at her, mesmerized.

A voice in her mind whispered that if she took a photo now, it might replace the sunrise portrait of Wen Jin as the most special image in her collection.

But she made no move to reach for her camera or phone.

Instead, Jing Feizuo’s hand moved as if guided by some unseen force, her fingertip hovering just above Wen Jin’s lips, almost touching.

“If you’re awake, get up,” Wen Jin said, her eyes still closed.

Jing Feizuo startled slightly, her hand freezing mid-air. She chuckled. “Pretending to be asleep?”

“You’ve been staring at me for too long,” Wen Jin opened her eyes, their clarity piercing. “Like you’re studying some new subject.”

Jing Feizuo withdrew her hand, rolled onto her back, and stretched languidly. “Exactly. The new series is called Sleeping Beauty Observation Log.”

“I’m sorry to cut your observation time short,” Wen Jin’s voice still carried the morning’s husky rasp. “We have an early meeting today.”

Jing Feizuo blinked. “Then shouldn’t President Wen hurry up and get out of bed?”

Wen Jin didn’t move. Instead, she leaned closer, her unbound hair brushing against Jing Feizuo’s neck, tickling her so much she instinctively recoiled.

“Just now,” Wen Jin murmured, her lips almost brushing Jing Feizuo’s ear, “were you trying to sneak a kiss?”

Jing Feizuo chuckled, instinctively retorting, “Narcissist.”

But she quickly changed her tune, seizing Wen Jin’s finger and nipping it lightly with her teeth. Her voice muffled, she admitted, “Yes, I wanted to kiss you. So what?”

Wen Jin’s eyes darkened slightly. She suddenly gripped the back of Jing Feizuo’s neck, pulling her close and warning in a low voice, “Darling, if you don’t want to kiss me before I’ve brushed my teeth, don’t provoke me.”

Jing Feizuo wriggled free and shoved Wen Jin into the bathroom.

The sound of running water filled the air.

Morning light streamed through the window. Jing Feizuo closed her eyes, savoring the warmth on her eyelids, yet her senses were filled with Wen Jin’s lingering, delicate scent.

This tranquil moment lasted only a few seconds before the water stopped.

She heard the bathroom door creak open but didn’t open her eyes, lazily rolling over to face away from the bathroom. “President Wen, you’re going to be late for the morning meeting—”

Before she could finish, the mattress dipped as Wen Jin, still damp from the shower, pressed down beside her.

Her fingers, still cool from the water, slid beneath Jing Feizuo’s pajama hem, tracing the curve of her waist. Jing Feizuo shuddered, instinctively arching her back.

“You—” Jing Feizuo began to turn her head, but Wen Jin gripped her chin, turning her face and silencing her with a kiss that tasted of mint toothpaste.

Wen Jin’s lips were cool, but her tongue burned hot, as if deliberately compensating for the earlier restraint. The kiss was deep and intense, almost suffocating Jing Feizuo.

She struggled, trying to push against Wen Jin’s shoulders, but her fingertips only grasped the slightly curled ends of Wen Jin’s hair, still damp from the shower. A bead of water slid down her wrist and into her sleeve, sending a shiver through her.

“Wen Jin!” Jing Feizuo finally managed to twist her head away, her breathing ragged. “Don’t you have an early morning meeting?”

Wen Jin chuckled softly, her lips brushing against Jing Feizuo’s earlobe, her voice husky. “Cancelled.”

“Just like that?” Jing Feizuo raised an eyebrow, deliberately provocative. “I thought every meeting was crucial for President Wen.”

“No.” Wen Jin’s fingers had already unbuttoned Jing Feizuo’s nightgown, her palm pressing against her lower abdomen, slowly sliding upward. Suddenly, she bit down on Jing Feizuo’s collarbone, grinding her teeth against the tender skin. “Right now, you seem far more important than any meeting.”

Jing Feizuo gasped in pain, wanting to curse, but Wen Jin seized the opportunity to kiss her again.

Sunlight streamed across the bedsheets. Jing Feizuo squinted, noticing Wen Jin’s loose strands of hair gleaming gold in the light. She suddenly remembered the photo she had failed to capture earlier.

Never mind, she thought hazily as Wen Jin flipped her over. Who cares about a photo album at a time like this?