After Abandoning Her, She Discovered That Her Partner Was a Paranoid - Chapter 4

By the time they arrived in G City, the afternoon sun was already beginning to slant westward. Wen Jin instructed her staff to have their luggage sent directly to the hotel, then took Jing Feizuo’s hand and led her through the crowd, heading straight for the station exit.

“I’ve forgotten your itinerary,” Jing Feizuo said. “Where are we going today?”

Wen Jin glanced at her, a hint of indulgent amusement in her eyes.

“The flea market. Today’s the last day it’s open. It’s a bit far from the hotel, and I was worried we’d miss closing time, so we’re going straight there.” She reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind Jing Feizuo’s ear, her voice soft and gentle. “It’s fine if you forgot. I won’t run off with you.”

Jing Feizuo chuckled, her laughter crisp and clear like ice cubes clinking in a glass.

Wen Jin’s arrangements were indeed impeccable. For instance, a pre-arranged car was already waiting outside the station.

No unnecessary waiting, no pointless fatigue. The city scenery blurred past the car window as they sped along. Jing Feizuo simply leaned back lazily in her seat, watching the orderly urban architecture gradually give way to the charmingly chaotic old streets.

The driver, a local with sun-darkened skin and a thick accent, was surprisingly chatty.

Wen Jin had arranged for her to double as a tour guide, and she was now smiling as she explained, “You two came at the perfect time! It’s the market’s last day, so many vendors will be clearing out their stock with deep discounts. You might find some real treasures.”

Jing Feizuo’s interest was piqued. “Any particular recommendations?”

The driver glanced in the rearview mirror, smoothly changed lanes, and continued without missing a beat, “Too many to count! It all depends on what you’re looking for. Antiques, handicrafts, and some truly bizarre collectibles—anyone who knows their stuff could spend hours there.”

Wen Jin murmured, “Interested?”

“Of course,” Jing Feizuo replied, a faint smile playing on her lips. “Back in college, there was a famous antique flea market nearby. I used to love going there to hunt for bargains and inspiration. When I heard they were opening one in China, I thought I’d missed my chance.”

The car turned into a narrow alley, and the driver slowed down, pointing to the bustling crowd ahead.

“We’re here! The alley’s too narrow for the car, so you’ll have to walk the rest of the way.”

The warm winter sun bathed the wrought-iron archway of the flea market in a golden glow. Two figures stood at the entrance, their exhaled breath condensing into white plumes that quickly dissipated in the frigid air.

Inside, the market’s labyrinthine alleys stretched in every direction. Jing Feizuo moved slowly forward, her gaze sweeping over the scene. “It’s much larger than I imagined,” she remarked.

Despite being the market’s final day of operation, the crowds were still thick. Some vendors hawked their wares with practiced patter, drawing layers of onlookers.

“Careful,” Wen Jin suddenly said, pulling Jing Feizuo closer by the waist.

A handcart piled high with antique clocks brushed past them. Suddenly, a chorus of cuckoo clocks chimed in unison, sending a dozen wooden birds springing out to fill the air with a cacophony of “cuckoo” calls.

Jing Feizuo shook her head. “The chaos here is just as overwhelming as it is overseas.” Though her words carried a hint of complaint, her tone held a nostalgic warmth.

Breaking free from Wen Jin’s embrace, Jing Feizuo’s gaze drifted over her shoulder to a glass display case across the alley. Inside, specimens of all kinds were meticulously preserved: butterflies, lizards, even an albino sparrow, each frozen in perfect repose.

She nudged Wen Jin forward. “Let’s go look over there.”

Behind the specimen cabinet, a woman was carefully adjusting the wings of a Blue Morpho butterfly with tweezers. Jing Feizuo gazed intently at the metallic sheen of the wings as they refracted sunlight.

Curiosity piqued, she asked, “How long can these specimens be preserved?”

“Several centuries, if properly treated,” the elderly woman replied with a hint of pride, her tone more like showcasing a personal collection than running a stall.

As Jing Feizuo stared, mesmerized by the exhibits behind the glass, Wen Jin’s voice suddenly came from behind her: “Found your inspiration yet?”

Jing Feizuo shook her head and sighed dramatically. “My inspiration completely dried up after that last deadline crunch.” She turned back to the stall owner. “Did you prepare all these specimens in this cabinet yourself?”

The woman smiled. “Yes, and all the creatures in this cabinet were ones I raised myself. These aren’t for sale, but you’re welcome to look at the specimens in the other cabinet if you’re interested.”

Jing Feizuo offered genuine compliments.

She glanced at the adjacent cabinet. Compared to the delicate artistry of the glass cabinet, the specimens there were arranged stiffly, their surfaces gleaming with a cold, hard sheen, even their shadows appearing coarse.

Jing Feizuo, her enthusiasm waning, pulled Wen Jin away.

Even after leaving the stall, she couldn’t stop thinking about the stunning glass cabinet.

“I remember a classmate from undergrad whose graduation project was a specimen collection. I heard him complain endlessly about how difficult it was to prepare them. Just look at the exquisite detail of those specimens—I wonder how much effort the stall owner must have put into them.” Jing Feizuo sighed almost instinctively. “Still, it’s such a unique and permanent way to commemorate them. She must have cared deeply for her animals.”

Wen Jin didn’t agree. “I think the specimens themselves are what she truly cares about. As for the animals, they’re just a means to satisfy her own desires.”

Perhaps because Wen Jin rarely contradicted her, Jing Feizuo froze, a strange ripple stirring in her heart.

It felt like stepping off a stair only to find no step below—her foot landed on solid ground, yet she stumbled inexplicably.

She frowned almost imperceptibly. Only after rounding a corner and spotting a stall selling antique jewelry did she find a way to change the subject.

Jing Feizuo stopped and casually pointed at an item on the stall. “Could I see this one, please?”

Winter days are short. By the time Wen Jin and Jing Feizuo finally emerged from the antique market, night had already soaked the entire street.

Jing Feizuo stretched languidly. “Time flies, doesn’t it?”

Wen Jin nodded. “We’ve been browsing for ages and haven’t bought a single thing.”

Jing Feizuo chuckled. “That’s my usual online shopping experience.”

A biting winter wind swept through, and Jing Feizuo sneezed.

Wen Jin wrapped the cashmere scarf she was carrying around Jing Feizuo’s neck. “We should head back now.”

Jing Feizuo didn’t reply immediately. After adjusting the scarf, she took a few steps back, pulled out her camera, and aimed it at Wen Jin.

Through the lens, Wen Jin stood by the roadside, the hem of her coat billowing in the wind. She turned to look at Jing Feizuo, strands of hair dancing in the breeze.

The moment Jing Feizuo pressed the shutter, time seemed to freeze in that single frame. When she looked away from the photo, the world sprang back to life from its frozen stillness.

Wen Jin gazed at Jing Feizuo, who stood a few steps away.

Cars streamed past behind Jing Feizuo, their headlights leaving trails of flowing light, as if time itself were flowing between them.

Standing there, Wen Jin suddenly felt as if Jing Feizuo were poised on some invisible boundary. One more step back, and she would completely dissolve into the night.

“Hurry up,” Wen Jin said, quickly dismissing the strange thought from her mind. She reached out to Jing Feizuo. “Before you try to capture the entire world in your camera.”

The corner of Jing Feizuo’s eye crinkled, a gesture that could have been a smile or simply her squinting against the wind.

Her voice was so soft it was almost drowned out by the engine’s roar. “Let’s go.”

The ride back was quiet.

Sensing the tourists’ fatigue, the driver wisely refrained from conversation. Jing Feizuo leaned against the window, her head tilted to the side, while Wen Jin’s hand rested on the seat between them, occasionally brushing lightly against the back of Jing Feizuo’s hand as if to reassure herself of the other woman’s presence.

Back at the hotel, Jing Feizuo lay lazily on the bed in her pajamas, scrolling through the photos she’d taken over the past two days. Wen Jin followed her into the bathroom, the sound of running water and wisps of steam seeping through the door crack.

Jing Feizuo kept flipping through the images until she paused on a close-up of Wen Jin’s profile.

She stared at it for a long time, until the bathroom door opened.

“Going to sleep?” Jing Feizuo asked.

Wen Jin didn’t answer, but instead walked closer to Jing Feizuo.

Wen Jin’s body blocked the light, casting a shadow that fell perfectly over Jing Feizuo.

Jing Feizuo felt Wen Jin drawing closer, her breath brushing against her earlobe, carrying the faint jasmine scent of her bath.

She heard Wen Jin’s voice: “I have a gift for you.”

Jing Feizuo was surprised. “It’s not my birthday yet, is it? Or did I forget some important anniversary?”

“I saw it on my last business trip and knew instantly it was meant for you. I’ve been holding onto it for so long, it’s a miracle I didn’t give it to you sooner. Let’s just say it’s… to celebrate our first trip together.” Wen Jin’s lips curved into a teasing smile. “Guess what it is?”

Jing Feizuo remained sprawled on the bed, her drowsiness completely gone. She tilted her head, feigning deep thought. “A year’s membership to some fancy gym?”

Wen Jin chuckled, amused.

She conjured a small box from somewhere and opened it before Jing Feizuo. Inside lay a sandalwood bracelet.

Wen Jin took the bracelet and fastened it around Jing Feizuo’s wrist, making her skin appear even fairer.

“You know I don’t wear jewelry,” Jing Feizuo said, shaking her wrist. The beads clinked softly, their faint sandalwood fragrance lingering around her nose.

“This is a protective charm I sincerely prayed for before the Buddha. I wish you safety, health, and longevity,” Wen Jin said, her gaze burning. “I heard that wood retains its owner’s body temperature.”

As the words left her lips, Wen Jin leaned forward. Jing Feizuo saw the unfathomable depths of Wen Jin’s eyes. The sash of her nightgown came undone, and the bracelet she had casually worn earlier slipped onto the bed with the movement.

The sandalwood beads pressed against Jing Feizuo’s skin, and she gasped.

“Wen Jin!”

Jing Feizuo struggled, but Wen Jin held her down more firmly.

“I know you don’t wear jewelry,” Wen Jin murmured against her nape as she pushed the remaining beads into place. “But gifts should be put to good use. This is where it belongs.”

The sandalwood beads gradually became damp, leaving dark watermarks on Jing Feizuo’s skin.

Wen Jin suddenly tugged on the bracelet. Jing Feizuo whimpered, caught between pain and pleasure. Wen Jin’s breathing grew heavier, the scent of sandalwood mingling with the fermenting aroma of desire in the air.

At three in the morning, the sounds of water gradually subsided. Jing Feizuo lay limp amidst the tangled sheets, the bracelet beside her gleaming with a lustrous sheen.

Drowsy and utterly drained, Jing Feizuo allowed Wen Jin to carry her to the bathroom for cleaning.

Before losing consciousness, Jing Feizuo heard Wen Jin chuckle softly. “The wood really does retain body temperature.”