After Abandoning Her, She Discovered That Her Partner Was a Paranoid - Chapter 63

When the commotion came from the doorway, Jing Feizuo was curled up on the sofa, playing video games.

She lazily called out, “Why are you so late today?”

Receiving no immediate response, Jing Feizuo lost interest in the game. The sound of “Game Over” blared from the TV screen, but she ignored it, tossed the controller aside, and shuffled forward in her slippers.

In the entryway, Wen Jin’s movements seemed awkward. Jing Feizuo’s gaze fixed on the small, wriggling bundle wrapped in a towel in Wen Jin’s arms.

Surprised, Jing Feizuo joked, “Did you steal someone’s kid?”

Wen Jin, finally managing to change her shoes, chuckled at the remark and unfolded the bundle to reveal its contents.

It was a small, all-black mutt with soft, floppy ears and a pair of wet, curious eyes cautiously taking in its unfamiliar surroundings.

Wen Jin gently placed the puppy on the soft carpet. The little creature seemed skittish, scrambling backward on all fours, but Wen Jin quickly soothed it with a gentle scratch under its chin, eliciting a contented hum.

Jing Feizuo looked up at Wen Jin, her expression puzzled. “Why did you suddenly decide to get a dog?”

Wen Jin’s gaze shifted from the puppy to Jing Feizuo’s face.

“I didn’t plan to keep it. I found it huddled in a cardboard box by the roadside on my way home, probably abandoned. It looked so pitiful, and I was afraid it wouldn’t survive the night, so I brought it back.” She paused, her voice softening slightly. “If you like it, we can keep it. If not, we’ll find a reliable home for it.”

What Wen Jin didn’t say was that when she saw the shivering little creature in the box tonight, its bewildered, helpless gaze suddenly triggered a memory deep within her.

During the six months when Jing Fei had vanished without a trace, she had once found herself in a similar cold, deserted street, overwhelmed by a crushing sense of abandonment. She had crouched in the shadows beyond the streetlight’s reach, burying her face in her arms as her shoulders trembled uncontrollably.

She felt no different from this miserable little puppy.

Jing Feizuo crouched down and gently touched the puppy’s nose with her finger. The puppy flinched at first, then cautiously sniffed the unfamiliar scent before extending its tongue to lick her fingertip.

“It’s not that I dislike it,” Jing Feizuo’s voice softened. “I just remember a certain CEO once saying she preferred cats?”

Wen Jin watched Jing Feizuo’s profile as she focused on playing with the puppy. The setting sun cast a warm glow on her long eyelashes, giving them an almost sacred softness.

“Yes,” Wen Jin replied, her voice soft and suggestive, hinting at a deeper meaning. “But don’t we already have a cat at home?”

Jing Feizuo paused, immediately catching the implication, a faint blush creeping up her ears. She chose to ignore the remark, gently stroking the puppy’s soft fur to change the subject. “What should we name her?”

“I’m terrible at naming things,” Wen Jin said, her gaze lingering on Jing Feizuo. “Why don’t you pick?”

The puppy, now familiar with Jing Feizuo’s scent, nuzzled affectionately against her leg.

Feeling the tickle against her leg, Jing Feizuo’s playful side surfaced. Her eyes twinkled as she suggested, “You’re Wen, I’m Jing… how about ‘Wen Jing’?”

A moment of silence hung in the air.

Wen Jin froze for a beat, then leaned forward slightly, a teasing smile playing on her lips. “Do you have to mix up your nasal sounds at a time like this?”

In the end, they didn’t settle on that mischievous name. Wen Jin chose “Jin Jin,” meaning “now”—symbolizing the puppy’s fresh start and cherished present from the moment it entered their home.

The only problem was that when they called the dog, it was sometimes hard to tell which of the two they were addressing.

The puppy’s arrival instantly threw their lives into a delightful chaos.

The veterinarian’s number became the most frequent entry in their call logs. The room Jing Feizuo had once reserved for her “collection” was quickly overrun with pet supplies: soft dog beds, toys of various materials, food and water bowls, and a stack of dog-raising encyclopedias recommended and sent by Shen Zhiyi.

What truly made them grind their teeth was training the puppy.

Whenever the dog darted toward the trash can, Jing Feizuo would instantly tear her gaze from her phone screen, watching with bated breath to see if it would try to rummage through the trash again.

In those moments, Jing Feizuo couldn’t tell whether she was training the dog or the dog was training her.

Wen Jin, on the other hand, was far more patient. She used a “carrot and stick” approach, showering the puppy with praise in soft, encouraging tones.

Of course, even her patience had its limits.

After the dog interrupted their intimate moments for what felt like the hundredth time, Wen Jin finally snapped. She dumped the puppy at Shen Zhiyi’s place, reasoning that her friend had plenty of experience with pets. She even told Shen Zhiyi, “If you can teach her not to barge into the master’s bedroom whenever she pleases, I’ll be eternally grateful.”

Shen Zhiyi responded with a cold laugh, secretly wishing the dog would barge in even more often.

Regardless of the outcome, Wen Jin had finally managed to temporarily send the dog away.

Now alone in their apartment, which had reverted to their private sanctuary, she chuckled softly.

Jing Feizuo, however, was crying pitifully.

As the final, intense “service” concluded in the warm water, Jing Feizuo nearly fainted, collapsing weakly into Wen Jin’s arms, too exhausted to even lift her hands.

Wen Jin meticulously washed her clean, wrapped her in a large, soft bath towel, and carried her back to bed. Jing Feizuo mustered a sliver of strength, opened her tear-drenched eyes, and glared at the woman before her, whose face radiated satisfaction. Her voice hoarse with accusation, she rasped, “Wen Jin, even a dog is more obedient than you.”

She was desperately trying to salvage what little remained of her shame, which had been utterly lost during this prolonged campaign of “insubordination.”

Wen Jin chuckled at her words. Leaning down, she pulled Jing Feizuo, still wrapped in the towel, into a tight embrace.

“No,” she countered crisply, her arms tightening around Jing Feizuo. “I’m the most obedient to my darling’s wishes.”

Her hand traced a meaningful path across Jing Feizuo’s still-twitching abdomen.

“I listen to…” Her breath was hot against Jing Feizuo’s ear as she enunciated each word with deliberate clarity, branding them onto the tip of Jing Feizuo’s heart. “…what her body says.”

Jing Feizuo shuddered violently, her skin, which had just regained a hint of its pale complexion, flushed pink once more. She slammed her eyes shut, unable to utter another word of protest. Wen Jin had indeed “heard” her—understood every inch of her body’s yearning, every trembling plea, and fulfilled those silent demands with ruthless precision.

Suddenly, Jing Feizuo missed the dog. Now, even if it scattered trash across every corner of the apartment, she doubted she would lose her mind over it.

Gritting her teeth, Jing Feizuo declared, “Tomorrow, bring Jin Jin back.”

Wen Jin gently stroked Jing Feizuo’s lips. “For these few days, I’m all you need.”