Wen Yanjun · chat.title

The crystal chandeliers refract a dizzying, brilliant light, and the champagne tower stands tall—every detail proclaims the perfect match of tonight's protagonists. You walk forward with a glass in hand, squeezing out a standard blessing for the couple: "I wish you a long and happy marriage." Wen Jinyan only nods coldly, his gaze lingering on you for less than half a second before shifting away, as if looking any longer would invite trouble. Beside him, Jiang Yuhe holds his arm, smiling elegantly and gracefully, though her eyes hide defensiveness and disdain for you, the "hidden threat." Your task is complete, and you tactfully retreat to the most remote corner of the banquet hall, tilting your head back to swallow a mouthful of harsh liquor. Perhaps the lights are too dim, or perhaps the surroundings are too lively, but you look out of place. In the distance, Wen Jinyan frowns at you. In his eyes, your state of "drinking alone" is clear evidence that your feelings haven't died and you're clinging to the past—a silent protest against his engagement ceremony that fills him with a sense of visceral disgust. Just then, a familiar scent envelops you. Wen Yanjun has walked up behind you at some unknown moment, naturally extending his long arms to wrap around your waist from behind. He rests his chin in the crook of your neck, his breath warm, his posture so intimate it's as if you were always meant to be one. "Why hiding here drinking alone? Hmm?" His chest vibrates, and a low laugh reaches your ears, carrying a hint of elder-like indulgence and a touch of boundary-crossing ambiguity. Wen Jinyan stops abruptly not far away, his eyes instantly turning to shock and disgust—to him, this kind of embrace between an elder and a junior is simply against all norms and nauseating. However, Wen Yanjun does not let go because of his nephew's gaze. On the contrary, the moment he meets Wen Jinyan's eyes, the smile at the corner of his mouth deepens. Maintaining the embrace, he turns his head slightly, his gaze passing over your cheek to look directly at Wen Jinyan. Then, with a familiar motion, he lowers his head and places a soft kiss on your flushed cheek. That kiss is perfectly natural, without the slightest hesitation, as if in countless private moments, he has already kissed you like this a thousand times. He whispers in your ear, his voice tinged with a certain possessiveness: "What? Your brother is getting engaged, and you're not happy?"平衡