Chapter 57

Wen Zhixu had heard that Jian Shichu’s dad was a professor at some university. She could dig up some info on Wang Yun online, but when it came to actually going to her house, Wen Zhixu was still pretty nervous. Jian Shichu was out of the closet, and this time, the family elders were home too.

On the way to Jian Shichu’s house, Wen Zhixu scrolled through Weibo to ease her nerves. That photo taken by the photographer had been reposted quite a bit and was pretty popular.

The “rest” Jian Shichu mentioned just meant switching locations to keep working. She’d only spent half a day at home today.

With the Banshan matter wrapped up, Xiao Yang didn’t need to stay there anymore either. Now that others were sharing the load, Jian Shichu’s days became a bit more leisurely again.

Everything seemed to be proceeding in an orderly and quiet manner. Wen Ru messaged her asking if she’d come home for New Year’s Day, but Wen Zhixu couldn’t make it—she was rushing a manuscript.

After replying to Wen Ru, there was no further response from her side. It felt like they were slowly getting back on track.

Before entering, Wen Zhixu carried a bunch of gifts and looked nervously at Jian Shichu. “I’m scared.”

Jian Shichu smiled. “Scared of what? My dad’s just not much of a talker. My grandma’s really gentle. Don’t worry, I’m right here.”

Those words were like a calming pill for Wen Zhixu. As Jian Shichu opened the iron gate and stepped into the garden, there was a stir inside the house.

The door opened, a beam of light chasing away the garden’s dimness. It was Wang Yun poking her head out, her voice warm and friendly. “Xiao Xu’s here! Come on in, is it cold outside?”

Wen Zhixu felt flustered by the warm welcome. Back on set with Wang Yun, no one ever brought up their relationship. But today, with the roles changed, it felt like they were strangers again.

Jian Shichu’s grandma used to be a high school teacher. She spoke elegantly and always wore reading glasses wherever she sat. When Wen Zhixu saw Jian Shichu’s dad, she could spot some similarities—he’d inherited a lot of his personality from his mom.

He really didn’t talk much, just repeating what Wang Yun said, telling Wen Zhixu to eat fruit and such. The whole family was great. Coming out hadn’t been smooth for Jian Shichu, but she’d done it early, and the right way—while single, so her family accepted her for who she was, not because of someone else.

Grandma’s hand rested on the back of Wen Zhixu’s, her eyes full of approval as she sized her up. Wen Zhixu was very well-mannered—sat up straight no matter where, spoke softly and politely.

Who wouldn’t like a girl like that? Grandma said, “Xiao Xu writes such good books. The more I look at this girl, the more I like her.”

That actually embarrassed Wen Zhixu. She glanced at Jian Shichu, who was peeling an orange. Without needing a reminder, Jian Shichu caught on and chimed in, “Of course! How could my taste be bad?”

Wen Zhixu’s breathing hitched for a moment, and Grandma laughed.

“Mom, you read Xiao Xu’s books too?” Wang Yun asked from the side, handing Wen Zhixu a bag of nuts.

Grandma replied, “How else would I know what young people like these days? A book sells well for a reason. I watched that drama too—Ru Shi. The female lead looked just like our Doudou.”

Jian Shichu looked at Wen Zhixu, and their eyes finally met. How could it not, when it was written that way? She broke off a segment of orange and popped it into Wen Zhixu’s mouth.

The family didn’t react specially to it. It was only then that Wen Zhixu realized this was the environment Jian Shichu had grown up in—free and easy, which shaped her personality. It also explained why Jian Shichu didn’t chase fleeting glamor or deceive the passage of time.

“Doudou, take a photo with Xiao Xu for me.” Grandma lightly patted the back of Wen Zhixu’s hand.

She turned her head, searching for her phone for a moment, but Jian Shichu agreed and went to grab hers.

“Use mine.” Wen Zhixu handed her phone to Jian Shichu.

Jian Shichu took it, unlocked it to the camera, and stepped back a bit. Wang Yun moved out of frame too.

Grandma loved taking photos, and Jian Shichu was used to it. Looking at the screen, her finger accidentally pressed wrong, and a photo popped up.

It was a screenshot Wen Zhixu had taken—nothing special, but in the thumbnail below, she seemed to spot something else.

Jian Shichu swiped twice. That one from the Liberation Monument window, the wedding dress in soft light like a veil of mist. Jian Shichu tilted her head, her gaze shifting to Wen Zhixu on the sofa.

“Did you take it?” Grandma prompted.

“Right away.” Jian Shichu exited, snapped a few from a different angle.

She remembered that wedding dress. Who wouldn’t like something beautiful? Even she felt a stir just looking at it.

Wen Zhixu and Grandma looked at the photos, while she watched Wen Zhixu.

Back home, Wen Zhixu finally relaxed. She’d added Grandma on WeChat—her profile pic was Jian Shichu as a kid. Wen Zhixu saved it right away.

At ten o’clock, she was still on the sofa staring at that photo. Little Jian Shichu had been so adorable, the kind adults instantly loved. She hadn’t grown out of it either—her features had opened up, making her even more beautiful now.

The hairdryer in the bathroom stopped. Wen Zhixu glanced back.

With a click of the light switching off, Jian Shichu emerged, her freshly blow-dried hair casually tied back.

“Still not done looking?” Jian Shichu glanced over, heading to the bar counter for water. The kettle was still warm. Her gaze fell on the cup as the water stream hit the bottom, the sound fading quieter.

Jian Shichu handed the cup to Wen Zhixu. “Drink some water.”

Wen Zhixu took it but didn’t drink, leaning over to set it on the coffee table. As Jian Shichu sat down, she leaned in and asked, “Why were you chubbier as a kid than now?”

She held up the photo, like she was comparing.

“Where was I chubby?” Jian Shichu smoothly pulled her into her arms, her voice brushing Wen Zhixu’s ear.

Wen Zhixu felt ticklish and turned to look at her. “A little chubbier than now, but super cute.”

“As long as you like it.” Jian Shichu replied easily, her fingers tucking Wen Zhixu’s hair behind her ear.

Jian Shichu asked, “Decided? Signing with the literature site.”

“Decided. Just means occasional trips to Chengdu.” Wen Zhixu said. “You brought me home, I’m so happy. If we can get married in the future, we will. If not, we’ll date for life.”

Jian Shichu smiled. “Spending life with you—that’s the future. Sometimes I don’t say things right, but you get me—as long as you’re here, that’s enough.”

Jian Shichu always spoke in that steady, quiet way. The more she did, the more every word touched you.

What she said was all action, really. The goal was simple: get through the four seasons.

“Aren’t you expressing it clearly?” Wen Zhixu hugged her, her fingers tracing her brows and eyes.

Sometimes she thought maybe time could change a lot by now, including Wen Ru’s views. Wen Zhixu was trying, and she hoped the path would smooth out.

Jian Shichu’s brows twitched as she looked at Wen Zhixu. Her fingertips were light, itchy and tingling over her eyebrows.

Under that gaze, her face flushed. Jian Shichu leaned in, brushing Wen Zhixu’s lips like a feather, deepening on the second touch with gentle sucks.

The shampoo scent always brought a soft, cozy vibe. Slow, unhurried kisses often stirred desire more than ones with intent.

Wen Zhixu responded to her kiss, savoring the tender, lingering wetness—like sinking into clouds, unable to move, speechless at the soul-deep fusion.

Jasmine scent seeped through her breaths. As Jian Shichu’s hand tightened and slid upward, it finally released the tension in her spine.

Skilled and gentle movements savored the sweetness between lips and teeth. Wen Zhixu’s breaths grew erratic midway, her blank mind unable to reclaim reason.

The living room lights were on. Before she knew it, she was pressed onto the sofa. Light from the chandelier slipped through her lashes into her pupils. Jian Shichu’s soft kisses trailed over her cheek, her burning skin making her breaths quicken.

“Wait, turn off the light.” Wen Zhixu lightly pushed her. Her pullover was tossed onto the carpet.

Jian Shichu pulled open the coffee table drawer, grabbing a small box and slipping a blue silk blindfold over Wen Zhixu’s eyes.

“Don’t be scared. Now you won’t see.” Jian Shichu’s voice was gentle and calm.

Wen Zhixu wore the blindfold, everything going dark—no more tension. Just as she was about to say something, a jolt shot from her heart to her brain. Her wrists went limp over the sofa edge.

Jian Shichu heard a muffled hum but didn’t rush to open the packaging. With the drawer still open, she reached in and pulled out a soft measuring tape.

She wrapped it around Wen Zhixu’s waist once. Wen Zhixu felt the coolness, her voice soft and glutinous. “What’s that?”

“Don’t move.” Jian Shichu glanced at the number, memorized it, and put the tape away. Soon, that number was etched in her mind.

She soothed Wen Zhixu as her kisses trailed to her ear.

Rising again, she slid the tape upward, wrapping it over her breasts. She memorized the number at a glance.

“Don’t mess around.” Wen Zhixu was a bit scared, her voice changing.

Jian Shichu put the tape back in the drawer. “Don’t tense up. I won’t mess around.”

Wen Zhixu felt something was off and reached up to remove the blindfold. Jian Shichu seemed to sense her movement, grasping her hand and kissing it with slow, lingering licks as her soft tongue gradually devoured her sanity.

Then she slowly guided downward. Wen Zhixu recovered somewhat from the earlier chill—this warm-water-boiling-frog approach gradually turned her into a fish on the chopping board.

Dominated entirely by a single mud loach, faint ripples stirred in the quiet pond. The little mud loach wasn’t in any hurry, leisurely roaming beneath the lush lotus leaves, gently pinching and pressing as it probed downward, finally losing all restraint upon plunging into the depths.

Silken strands of hair brushed over her knees like satin. The now-unhinged mud loach rampaged relentlessly in an insatiable frenzy until the pond grew turbid.

A sheen of dense sweat beaded in Wen Zhixu’s palms. That tension only ebbed when her breath became entwined. The blindfold blocked out all light, but deep down, she remembered the living room lamps were blazing bright.

Jian Shichu first draped a coat over her, then gently lifted the blindfold. The sudden glare of light brought momentary blindness, leaving her vision of others hazy and indistinct.