After Abandoning Her, She Discovered That Her Partner Was a Paranoid - Chapter 5

Over the next few days, the two women sailed on a yacht, soaked in mountain hot springs in the suburbs, and went to underground rock concerts. As Jing Feizuo completely entrusted the itinerary to Wen Jin, she was continually amazed by Wen Jin’s time management and planning skills.

Wen Jin ensured every minute was used to its fullest potential, yet never seemed rushed. She even factored in Jing Feizuo’s occasional impulsive delays. What was most astonishing was how effortless this control appeared; it was as if the entire city were operating according to her script.

The perception of time during travel is always filled with subtle contradictions, as if under a spell. At first, Jing Feizuo felt they had plenty of time, but one day, upon returning to the hotel, she checked the date and was shocked to realize their return was imminent.

Soon, only the final two days remained of their seven-day trip.

Wen Jin’s plan for the day was to watch the sunrise by the sea.

For Jing Feizuo, this required considerable self-discipline.

To make this happen, Wen Jin and Jing Feizuo had even skipped their mutually enjoyed “nighttime exercise” the previous evening.

At that moment, Jing Feizuo stood on a protruding basalt platform, a spot Wen Jin had scouted in advance. Surrounded by the sea on three sides, the location offered an unobstructed view, perfect for capturing every nuance of light and shadow during sunrise.

Jing Feizuo expertly set up her tripod and adjusted the camera angle.

Her movements were precise and efficient, making it hard to imagine that just an hour earlier, she had been sprawled in bed, half her face buried in the pillow, grumbling incoherently about this damned early wake-up call.

Wen Jin stood three steps away, watching Jing Feizuo. In the dim morning light, the woman’s delicate face appeared almost translucent.

She couldn’t resist stepping forward and offering a thermos: “It’s cold by the sea in the morning. Don’t catch a cold.”

Jing Feizuo paused her work, took the thermos, and sipped from it. The cup contained ginger-sugar water, its spicy sweetness sliding down her throat and igniting a small flame in her stomach.

The eastern horizon was now tinged with azure. Waves crashed against the jagged rocks, shattering into jade-like fragments, their rhythmic roar echoing like the heartbeat of a giant.

She tightened the thermos lid and commented on the scene: “Watching the sunrise is truly a high-investment, high-return activity.”

Wen Jin couldn’t help but laugh. “By ‘high investment,’ do you mean I have to start waking you up half an hour early, and only succeed by forcibly shoving a toothbrush into your mouth with five minutes to spare?”

Jing Feizuo glared at Wen Jin, about to retort, when a golden light suddenly shimmered on the distant horizon. She immediately turned, adjusted her camera, and said with a hint of excitement, “It’s coming.”

As the first rays of sunlight pierced through the clouds, Jing Feizuo gasped.

The sun didn’t disappoint her early rise. It didn’t seem to rise gradually from the sea, but rather leap out of the water in a single bound, its dripping golden light igniting the entire seascape.

Jing Feizuo was awestruck by the rare sunrise, her camera diligently recording the spectacle. Wen Jin, however, simply stood there, letting the sea breeze tousle her hair. It was unclear whether her gaze was fixed on the scenery or focused on the person standing before her.

The silence imposed by the breathtaking view didn’t last long. Jing Feizuo suddenly tore her gaze away from the sunrise and turned to look at Wen Jin.

Wen Jin responded with a puzzled, “Hmm?”

As if by magic, Jing Feizuo produced another small camera. “Let me take a photo of you,” she said.

Wen Jin protested with a smile, “You’ve taken enough photos of me these past few days to fill an entire album!”

Despite her words, Wen Jin obediently cooperated, moving to the designated spot.

The light grew stronger, turning the sea into molten gold. Jing Feizuo’s fingers danced nimbly across the camera, adjusting settings, focusing, and snapping the shutter in one fluid motion.

Successful photography was second nature to Jing Feizuo, and she quickly put the camera away.

Wen Jin’s gaze, however, lingered on the wrist that had slipped from Jing Feizuo’s sleeve during the movement. The string of beads now encircled the once-bare skin.

Wen Jin felt her heart quicken. She instinctively stepped forward, grasped Jing Feizuo’s wrist, and before Jing Feizuo could speak, her warm breath sealed the latter’s lips.

The sky exploded with light as the sun fully broke free of the horizon during their kiss.

On their way back, they took a different route, passing through the fishing village’s morning market.

To cater to the influx of tourists, this once-rustic path had been widened considerably. The shops lining the street were meticulously arranged and modern, and apart from the salty, damp sea air, there was little trace of the village’s former character.

The two women stopped in front of a small shop. Wen Jin glanced at the sign above the entrance. “Isn’t this the soup dumpling place from that post you saved?”

“Wen Jin?”

A sudden voice interrupted her. Both women turned to see a woman approaching them from across the street. She looked to be in her early thirties, her shoulder-length hair neatly tucked behind her ears.

Wen Jin’s voice carried a rare note of hesitation. “Shen Zhiyi?”

The woman’s face lit up with a joyful smile of reunion. “It really is you!”

Wen Jin seemed momentarily surprised but quickly recovered.

She introduced Shen Zhiyi to Jing Feizuo, who was standing beside her. “This is my college classmate, Shen Zhiyi.” She felt Jing Feizuo’s grip on her hand tighten slightly. “Jing Feizuo, my…”

“Girlfriend,” Jing Feizuo finished with a smile, her gaze lingering on Shen Zhiyi’s face for a moment before she calmly extended her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

Shen Zhiyi’s gaze shifted politely and naturally to Jing Feizuo.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Jing. Please, call me Zhiyi.” She shook Jing Feizuo’s slightly cool hand. “I run a teahouse nearby. Since we’ve met by chance, would you like to join me for a cup?”

Wen Jin glanced at Jing Feizuo.

Jing Feizuo smiled at Shen Zhiyi. “That sounds lovely.”

The teahouse was nestled in a quiet side alley. Shen Zhiyi led them to a private room upstairs, where floor-to-ceiling windows offered an unobstructed view of the sea.

Shen Zhiyi gestured for a server to bring out some snacks. “If you haven’t had breakfast yet, feel free to try these.”

Wen Jin nodded. “Thank you.”

A tea mistress in traditional attire gracefully arranged the tea set. Shen Zhiyi took the purple clay teapot and, with practiced movements, warmed the cups, rinsed the tea leaves, and poured the deep crimson brew into the white porcelain cups. Wisps of steam rose into the air.

Shen Zhiyi gently pushed the two cups of tea across the table. Wen Jin took her cup, her fingertip tracing the rim. “Speaking of which, last year I had headhunters contact you several times, hoping to recruit you to head our newly established cultural industries division. The terms we offered weren’t bad, yet you politely declined each time.”

Shen Zhiyi took a delicate sip of her tea, her smile remaining perfectly composed.

“Director Wen flatters me. I had just finished a grueling multinational project at the time, and I was utterly exhausted, both physically and mentally.” Her gaze shifted to Jing Feizuo. “But it seems Director Wen has found a more suitable candidate. Miss Jing possesses an extraordinary aura and must have profound expertise in the arts.”

Jing Feizuo was raising her teacup when the rim lightly clinked against the saucer, the soft ting echoing clearly in the quiet tea room.

She lowered her eyes. “I merely know how to paint a few pictures.”

Jing Feizuo blew on her tea, a soft chuckle escaping her lips. Her tone was like mist hovering over ice, impossible to discern whether it was teasing or mocking. “Earlier, I assumed your relationship must be extraordinary. Seeing such polite formalities now is quite different from what I imagined.”

“Is that so? Perhaps it’s because we’ve drifted apart and haven’t seen each other in so long. That’s why this reunion feels so precious.” Shen Zhiyi shrugged dismissively. “Wen Jin and I were on the same debate team back in the day. She could single-handedly defeat entire teams, leaving their star debaters speechless. All I had to do was clap.”

Jing Feizuo glanced at Wen Jin.

Wen Jin smiled at Jing Feizuo, her eyes twinkling. “I was quite the show-off back in college.”

Shen Zhiyi, as if the floodgates of memory had been opened, continued to share amusing anecdotes from their university days, with Wen Jin chiming in to add details. Their banter flowed smoothly, and the atmosphere seemed to warm up.

Yet in this convivial setting, Jing Feizuo felt like she was sitting on pins and needles.

When Shen Zhiyi began explaining her decision to quit her job and open a small shop in G City, Jing Feizuo abruptly stood up, her voice tight. “Excuse me, I need to step away for a moment.”

Without waiting for Wen Jin or Shen Zhiyi to react, she hurried toward the restroom in the corner.

As she crossed the central courtyard, the cool morning breeze brushed against her cheeks, but the frustration in her heart only intensified.

Pushing open the heavy wooden door of the restroom, she found it empty. She walked to the sink, braced her hands against the cold marble countertop, and took a deep breath.

During their conversation, she had heard Wen Jin describe Shen Zhiyi in college—quick-witted, cheerful, confident, and a natural leader.

But simultaneously, her mind flashed back to the Shen Zhiyi who would weep into a glass of whiskey late at night, even splashing the liquor onto her paintings.

In contrast, they were like two completely different people.

What truly unsettled her was Shen Zhiyi’s consistently polite yet distant demeanor. Their eye contact was limited to necessary formalities, devoid of any lingering glances or hidden meanings.

She spoke of Wen Jin, of university, of work—yet when addressing Jing Feizuo, she acted as if they were mere acquaintances. This unnatural calm felt like the stillness before a volcanic eruption.

Jing Feizuo looked up and saw her own gaze in the mirror, slightly unfocused. Staring at her pale reflection, she murmured, “I must be going mad…”

Just then, the stall door behind her clicked open.

Through the mirror, Jing Feizuo saw Shen Zhiyi enter and walk directly to the sink beside her.

In the cramped space, the air instantly thickened.

“Long time no see,” Shen Zhiyi murmured, her voice deliberately low, almost a whisper, tinged with a feigned intimacy. She uttered a name Jing Feizuo hadn’t heard in years: “My Feifei.”