After Abandoning Her, She Discovered That Her Partner Was a Paranoid - Chapter 26

Two minutes before her alarm was set to go off, Jing Feizuo unexpectedly woke up.

The window was open, and she lay in bed, lazily listening to the distinctive sounds of early morning.

In the distance, shop shutters clattered open, and a street sweeper rumbled over the cobblestone road.

The faint sound of shower water drifted from the bathroom. Wen Jin, as always, had risen earlier than her.

Her phone screen lit up. She checked the notification: a message from Marl: “First public opening day today. Expecting a massive crowd.”

Jing Feizuo tossed her phone aside and swung her legs off the bed.

Pulling back the curtains, she leaned out to see visitors already lining up outside the exhibition hall.

Wen Jin, having finished washing up, entered the room with a white towel draped around her neck.

“Looks like our resident late sleeper has undergone a transformation today?” Wen Jin teased.

Jing Feizuo ignored her teasing, blinking innocently. “Want to join me as an exhibition visitor?”

The crowd on the public opening day was even larger than she had anticipated. By the time they arrived, each exhibition area was already packed with people.

Some leaned in to examine the details of the paintings, others were busy taking selfies, and a few art students sketched copies in their sketchbooks.

Jing Feizuo grabbed Wen Jin’s hand and weaved through the throng.

“This is it.”

Instead of heading to her own exhibition booth, she stopped in front of the central display area and released Wen Jin’s hand. “Guess which of these three paintings is my teacher’s work?”

Wen Jin peered through the crowd, trying to get a better look.

The Central Exhibition Hall of the Art Center boasted a soaring ceiling nearly ten meters high, making the bustling crowd below feel surprisingly uncrowded.

Three colossal paintings dominated an entire wall with their imposing presence. Each canvas stretched over four meters wide, their brushstrokes coalescing into a breathtaking visual impact from a distance.

Wen Jin tilted her head back, scrutinizing these behemoths with a slight headache.

“Guess the painting? I’d have better luck guessing which plot of land will make more money.”

Despite her words, she began observing intently. Her gaze finally settled on the central painting, and she pointed hesitantly. “This one?”

Jing Feizuo exclaimed, “Wow! Next time, you can help me judge which painting has higher commercial value.”

Wen Jin was surprised. “Really? This one?”

Jing Feizuo nodded.

“I don’t really understand Luna’s style,” Wen Jin chuckled. “I just thought this one was the most striking. Guess I got lucky.”

Jing Feizuo studied the painting. “It is indeed striking.”

Luna’s artwork was bathed in the cold, white light of a spotlight.

Standing at the edge of the crowd, Jing Feizuo could only glimpse a blinding crimson background, like a pool of congealed bl00d.

The painting depicted a woman reclining in a classical pose, her face replaced by a crude gorilla mask. The pitch-black eye sockets seemed bottomless, while the corners of her mouth curled upward in a sinister smirk, as if mocking something unseen.

The mask appeared to be made of rough industrial rubber, with several cracks along the edges revealing glimpses of the skin beneath, as if the face were a temporary disguise that could be torn off at any moment.

The title of the painting was an integral part of the artwork, a line of bold black text crudely rolled onto the canvas in oil paint, slashing across the nude figure’s waist and abdomen like a knife scar: “Must Women Be Naked to Enter the Art Museum?”

Even Wen Jin, who considered herself “artistically blind,” found herself captivated. “Your teacher is truly…” she marveled.

“A genius,” Jing Feizuo interjected dramatically, her voice brimming with barely concealed pride. “She rarely expresses herself so directly in her work. She said this painting took her over half a year to complete and warned me not to sneak a peek before the exhibition. So mysterious!”

Wen Jin was surprised. “I always thought Luna was quite serious and conventional.”

Jing Feizuo burst into laughter. “Completely wrong!”

Eventually, Jing Feizuo circled back to her own exhibition booth.

By afternoon, the crowds had reached their peak, packing the area in front of her booth so tightly that she had to retreat to a nearby lounge area. From there, she watched from a distance, the brim of her baseball cap pulled low to conceal most of her face, leaving only her eyes visible.

Like a thief in the night.

Wen Jin found it amusing and asked, “What are you looking at now?”

“I’m doing ‘market research’,” Jing Feizuo explained. “Seeing how the audience interprets my work.”

This was her favorite part of the process—watching her creations take on new life in the eyes of others, detached from their creator.

“And what’s the conclusion?”

Jing Feizuo smiled. “Most people are weaving their own stories. But with works that lack a fixed theme, interpretation truly lies in the eye of the beholder.”

It was nearly lunchtime. Wen Jin handed her a sandwich. “I honestly thought you were checking how much your paintings could sell for.”

Jing Feizuo nodded in agreement. “That’s a necessary part of the process too.”

She tore open the packaging, took a bite of the sandwich, and continued scanning the passing crowd.

Suddenly, a teasing voice cut through the air: “Hiding here to slack off?”

Marl materialized from some corner, carrying a tray, and sat down opposite her. “The Art Review interview reporter has been looking for you for ages.”

Jing Feizuo scoffed. “And they’ll just keep asking me stupid questions like, ‘What are the advantages of being a female artist?'”

“Their questions are mostly nonsense anyway,” Marl said, unfazed by her attitude. She changed the subject. “Luna’s here today. She’s in the lounge upstairs. Did you know?”

Jing Feizuo seemed taken aback by Marl’s sudden mention of Luna. She paused, then nodded. “My teacher told me.”

Marl looked surprised. “Aren’t you going to see her? The Central Exhibition Hall’s setup was moved up this year, and your schedules just barely missed each other. You haven’t seen her yet, have you?”

Jing Feizuo glanced discreetly at Wen Jin beside her.

For reasons she couldn’t quite articulate, she was deliberately avoiding a meeting between Wen Jin and Luna.

She ventured tentatively, “I probably won’t go.”

Seeing Wen Jin show no particular reaction, her tone grew more confident. “I won’t go today. Maybe next time.”

As they left the art museum, the setting sun had already painted the canal in front of the entrance a warm orange. Rippling water reflected the strikingly modern architecture of the building.

Jing Feizuo stood at the main hall’s exit, hoping the gentle evening breeze would blow away the fatigue clouding her mind.

The exhibition was less hectic than the setup phase, but the constant clamor of the crowd still made her head buzz.

“Tired?”

Wen Jin’s voice came from behind, and a cup of honey water was placed beside her.

Jing Feizuo turned to see Wen Jin dressed casually, her plain glasses giving her the air of a leisurely scholar.

Taking the cup, Jing Feizuo’s fingertips brushed against the still-warm glass. She couldn’t help but hum softly, “President Wen seems to have plenty of free time.”

For days, Wen Jin had been acting like a tourist, following Jing Feizuo around as she rushed about, swamped with work. Every time Jing Feizuo saw her during moments of exhaustion, she found her presence incredibly “annoying.”

“My schedule only has one item,” Wen Jin smiled. “Spending time with you.”

Jing Feizuo rolled her eyes and tilted her head back to gulp down the honey water. The warm liquid slid down her throat, easing some of her fatigue.

She squinted at the distant canal, then suddenly smirked. “Since you’re so free, how about we play a game?”

“What kind of game?”

“Maze Challenge,” Jing Feizuo said, pulling a crumpled paper map from her bag and waving it in front of Wen Jin. “We’ll start from different exits, relying solely on this map. No phones for navigation, no asking for directions, and no contacting anyone. Whoever gets back to the hotel first wins.”

Wen Jin’s gaze fell on the map—a basic tourist version that lacked even the details of the narrow alleys.

“What’s the wager?”

Jing Feizuo grinned mischievously. “If I win, you can’t be my shadow for the next few days.”

“And if I win?”

Jing Feizuo replied matter-of-factly, “Then you can keep following me around.”

Wen Jin paused, silent for a moment.

“Darling, do you think I’m stupid?” she said with a helpless laugh. “How is the reward for winning worse than not playing at all?”

“Fine,” Jing Feizuo said, rubbing her face.

“Then if you win, tonight at the hotel…” Wen Jin deliberately drew out her words, her fingertip lightly tapping Jing Feizuo’s collar, “…you get to call the shots.”

Wen Jin’s eyes suddenly darkened.

The two stood at a fork in the road, each choosing opposite directions.

Jing Feizuo headed toward the north gate, while Wen Jin went south.

“We’ll start timing in ten minutes,” Jing Feizuo said, shaking her phone. “To make it fair, let’s both turn off our location services.”

Wen Jin obediently disabled her phone’s GPS. Before turning away, she quietly added, “You can call me if you get lost.”

Jing Feizuo waved without looking back. “As if I would.”

With that, she stepped into the maze of crisscrossing streets.

She was confident. Having lived in this city for years, she might not know every corner, but she had a solid sense of direction.

Following the main roads marked on the map, Jing Feizuo planned to bypass a square and head straight to the hotel district.

But the alleys here were like shifting traps.

After the third turn, Jing Feizuo found herself in a dead end, facing only a tightly shut green wooden door and a few wilted potted plants.

Frowning, she checked the map, only to realize the alley was so narrow it was thinner than a hair—completely outside the printed area of the tourist version.

“Damn it…”

Jing Feizuo had no choice but to backtrack.

As dusk fell, the streetlights along the canal began to flicker on one by one.

Standing on a small bridge, she gazed at the distant, blurred outline of the hotel. To the naked eye, it seemed close, but in reality, she still had to navigate several incredibly complex turns.

Jing Feizuo scowled, trying to convince herself that as long as Wen Jin didn’t discover her detour, she wouldn’t be violating their agreement. She flagged down a bus and gave the driver the address of a café near the hotel.

Ten minutes later, Jing Feizuo stepped off the bus at the café entrance.

She straightened her collar, making sure she looked composed, and strolled leisurely toward the hotel.

She was already imagining Wen Jin’s expression when she realized Jing Feizuo had won, and she chuckled to herself as she walked.

But as she rounded the final street corner, her laughter abruptly died.

Wen Jin stood calmly at the hotel entrance, watching her with an air of serene amusement.

“How did you get here?” Jing Feizuo exclaimed.

“After you fell asleep last night, I got bored and studied the map for three hours.”

Jing Feizuo stared in disbelief.

She hadn’t anticipated such a coincidence. Taking a few deep breaths, she accused, “You cheated!”

“No,” Wen Jin denied the accusation. She leaned closer, whispering in Jing Feizuo’s ear, “I just took this more seriously than you did.”

Jing Feizuo’s breath caught in her throat.

Wen Jin’s lips brushed against her earlobe, her voice laced with seduction. “According to our bet, I’m in charge tonight.”

The moment Jing Feizuo’s back pressed against the hotel room door, Wen Jin’s lips descended upon hers.

The kiss was sweet as honey, yet possessed an irresistible force. Just as Jing Feizuo’s head was about to slam against the door, Wen Jin’s hand cushioned the impact, producing a muffled thud.

Instinctively, Jing Feizuo tried to push her away, but Wen Jin’s hand clamped around her wrist, lifting it above her head and pinning it against the carved doorframe.

“Wait…”

Jing Feizuo finally managed to gasp for air, pleading for a pause. But Wen Jin’s lips had already invaded her mouth with renewed ferocity.

Before she could protest further, Wen Jin let out a muffled groan, and a metallic tang of bl00d spread across Jing Feizuo’s tongue.

Her teeth had accidentally grazed Wen Jin’s lower lip.

Wen Jin pressed her forehead against Jing Feizuo’s, chuckling softly. Her fingers brushed against the corner of Jing Feizuo’s damp lips, accusingly. “You bit me.”

Panting, Jing Feizuo retorted, “If you don’t like it, you can stop.”

Wen Jin’s eyes darkened like storm clouds gathering before a tempest.

She stripped off Jing Feizuo’s coat and tossed it carelessly into a corner of the room.

Her calloused hand glided across the skin of the woman in her arms, tightening its grip when she heard a soft, involuntary moan escape Jing Feizuo’s lips.

Jing Feizuo’s breathing quickened.

She suddenly realized how precarious their position was.

“Big Sister…” she pleaded, her rare display of vulnerability only earning her a more ferocious kiss.

“Darling,” Wen Jin chuckled breathlessly, “you made your bet, now you have to pay up.”

Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the canal reflected the swaying lights.

On the suite’s carpet lay scattered everything that had been on the desk moments before.

Jing Feizuo was lifted and placed on the wide desk, the cold, solid wood seeping through her thin pants and into her skin, intensifying her trembling in Wen Jin’s arms.

“Wait—” Jing Feizuo grabbed Wen Jin’s hand as she unbuttoned her shirt. “I haven’t showered yet.”

Wen Jin paused, her gaze slowly sweeping over Jing Feizuo’s flushed earlobes, the damp line of her neck, and finally settling on her trembling fingertips.

“We’ll have plenty of time for that later,” she murmured, pressing her lips to Jing Feizuo’s earlobe. “But if you say ‘wait’ or ‘stop’ again tonight, I’ll add an extra hour to your punishment.”

Jing Feizuo didn’t respond. She couldn’t respond.

Fireworks seemed to explode in her mind, blindingly bright before fading into a blank void.

Wen Jin continued whispering in her ear, “Darling, this hotel has a unique feature: every mirror is a 17th-century antique. Perfect for artists to admire their own expressions.”

Later, Jing Feizuo would recall that night countless times, but the clearest memory remained the full-length mirror.

In the mirror, Wen Jin cradled her lower back as if handling something fragile, yet her lips moved fiercely across every inch of Jing Feizuo’s skin.

The most terrifying thing was her own gaze.

That unfamiliar, uncontrollable desire, as if she were prey bound by a gambler’s wager.

The mirror reflected their intertwined figures. Through her blurred vision, Jing Feizuo saw her own fingers gripping Wen Jin’s hair with desperate force, like a climber clinging to a tree root at the edge of a cliff.

As dawn broke, Jing Feizuo awoke in the bathtub.

Wen Jin was wiping her calves with a damp towel. Throughout the night, her legs had cycled between wet and dry.

In the steamy mist, she caught the familiar scent of jasmine.

“Awake?” Wen Jin brushed aside the damp strands of hair clinging to her forehead. “Go back to bed and rest a while longer. Breakfast won’t be here until ten.”

Jing Feizuo closed her eyes, pretending not to notice the fresh scratch marks on Wen Jin’s neck.