One Year After Her Sister-In-Law Was Widowed - Chapter 25

The scent of the perfume was thick.

Xiao Shuangyu knew nothing about perfume. Even though Ji Zhuozhou said her nose was very sensitive, she couldn’t distinguish the various scents contained within it.

She only knew that after the slightly sweet floral and woody aroma diffused, the hue of the world seemed to shift from a bright pink to a pale yellow. The remnants of the setting sun scattered into a deep canyon, accompanying the flowing water and thin mist, until it all coalesced into the form of Ji Zhuozhou.

Xiao Shuangyu was flushed red all over.

It was hard to tell if it was the redness from scrubbing too hard during her shower that hadn’t faded, or the color of desire staining her body from kissing Ji Zhuozhou.

The Ji Zhuozhou she saw, the Ji Zhuozhou she smelled, the Ji Zhuozhou she embraced, and the Ji Zhuozhou she… touched.

Every single version of hers made her heart flutter uncontrollably.

Her heart was pounding, and her fingertips, pressed against softness, were pulsing as well.

The hem of the nightgown had bunched up around her waist; she squeezed into the small remaining piece of fabric, stroking with effort.

Soft arms hooked around her neck. Ji Zhuozhou’s pants fell beside her ear, her burning breath landing there as well.

She heard Ji Zhuozhou speak, asking amidst her chaotic breathing, “Thinking… that much?”

Xiao Shuangyu didn’t answer. She looked up and swallowed Ji Zhuozhou’s voice.

She gently bit into those fragrant, soft lips, grinding them with a bit of force, as if doing so would make the burning sensation that rose in her face from that single question disappear.

She did think about it.

Of course she did.

Ji Zhuozhou was questioning her, speaking to her.

A proactive Ji Zhuozhou, a trembling Ji Zhuozhou, a Ji Zhuozhou mixed with the scent of perfume—how could she not want her?

Ji Zhuozhou couldn’t take it and tightened her hold on Xiao Shuangyu’s neck.

Xiao Shuangyu didn’t continue. She withdrew her hand and instead embraced Ji Zhuozhou just as tightly, as if trying to rub Ji Zhuozhou into her own body.

After a long while, once Ji Zhuozhou’s breathing had somewhat steadied, she let go. “Are you going to wash up?”

Ji Zhuozhou had mostly recovered. She propped herself up with her arms and sat up lightly kissing Xiao Shuangyu’s lips. “Yes.”

Xiao Shuangyu glanced down at the hidden, damp area. Before she could speak, Ji Zhuozhou had already gotten up and walked off the bed.

Xiao Shuangyu was a step late and could only follow behind Ji Zhuozhou, watching her enter the bathroom. Soon, the sound of splashing water filled the air.

She stood outside the door with her head lowered, looking at the slight wrinkles on her fingertips. The regret on her face seemed ready to drop to the floor along with the invisible tentacles sprouting from her body.

She should have been faster.

If she had said the words faster, she probably could have “eaten” it, and it wouldn’t have gone to waste, right?

She wanted to eat.

Xiao Shuangyu lingered and didn’t leave.

But she didn’t manage to linger her way into another embrace from Ji Zhuozhou.

Lying beside Ji Zhuozhou, she tried her best to steady her still-rapid heartbeat, feeling unable to fall asleep for a long time.

Ji Zhuozhou had only taken a simple rinse; the scent of the perfume she had applied seemed to linger, wafting toward Xiao Shuangyu in waves.

Tomorrow was Friday. Not only was it a workday, but it was also the day of the exchange meeting that Huari had prioritized for a long time. Ji Zhuozhou would definitely be very busy; she couldn’t cause trouble.

Thinking this, Xiao Shuangyu obediently closed her eyes. Even if she couldn’t sleep, she was determined not to disturb Ji Zhuozhou’s rest.

Amidst the wisps of perfume and the scent of rain and mist from Ji Zhuozhou’s body, Xiao Shuangyu eventually fell into a heavy sleep without knowing when.

The next day, Xiao Shuangyu was already sleeping tightly pressed against Ji Zhuozhou, curled into a ball by her side with her head resting on Ji Zhuozhou’s shoulder.

The first thing Ji Zhuozhou saw when she woke up was the person beside her.

This was the first time in several days that Ji Zhuozhou hadn’t seen Xiao Shuangyu with her eyes open, waiting for her upon waking.

At that thought, the hand she had extended toward the top of Xiao Shuangyu’s head paused and, in the end, didn’t stroke down.

She lowered her hand, carefully breaking the contact with Xiao Shuangyu’s forehead, and slowly began to get up.

Her movements were very light, making almost no sound.

However, Xiao Shuangyu still sensed Ji Zhuozhou rising beside her. She snapped her eyes open and bounced up instantly.

Ji Zhuozhou had intentionally moved quietly to avoid waking her. Seeing those dark eyes anxiously searching for her, her voice couldn’t help but carry a hint of helplessness. “It’s still early. Go back to sleep.”

Xiao Shuangyu shook her head vigorously, wiping away non-existent drool from the corner of her mouth. “I’ve slept enough.”

Observing Ji Zhuozhou’s expression, she hurried to add, “I’m so hungry. I want to eat breakfast.”

Unlike her previous sentence, her voice dropped and her tone softened. Xiao Shuangyu lowered her head, looking up honestly with blinking eyes.

She looked truly hungry.

Ji Zhuozhou had no way to argue. “Then go back to sleep after we eat.”

Xiao Shuangyu nodded rapidly.

In Ji Zhuozhou’s eyes, Xiao Shuangyu had been like this for several days.

Getting up early, washing up with Ji Zhuozhou, going out together, eating breakfast together, and then, after seeing Ji Zhuozhou off, returning to sleep for a while.

Xiao Shuangyu, sporting dark circles that hadn’t diminished and had even faintly deepened compared to a few days ago, confidently felt there was no problem.

Maintaining that confidence and a rigorous attitude, Xiao Shuangyu actually ate one more bun than usual.

With her cheeks puffed out full, Xiao Shuangyu felt immensely happy.

Before leaving, Ji Zhuozhou suddenly asked if she wanted to try wearing some of her perfume.

So at this moment, Xiao Shuangyu’s inner wrists and the sides of her neck radiated the scent of Ji Zhuozhou’s perfume.

It smelled so good.

Because it wasn’t on Ji Zhuozhou’s body, it didn’t have much of that rain and mist scent. But because Ji Zhuozhou was currently right in front of her, a bit of that rain and mist scent mixed in anyway.

Just like last night.

Or perhaps not exactly the same; she still preferred Ji Zhuozhou’s own scent, the way the perfume smelled when it was on Ji Zhuozhou’s body.

As she watched Ji Zhuozhou’s car drive away, the scent of rain and mist departing with it, Xiao Shuangyu raised her wrist to sniff it and couldn’t help but think.

Today, from across the street at Huarui, Xiao Shuangyu saw Ji Zhuozhou walking out of the building.

It wasn’t just Ji Zhuozhou; leaders of all levels and several people from the perfumery department were standing together in a lively group in front of the Huarui building.

Xiao Shuangyu wished she could phase through the glass and stretch her neck right in front of Ji Zhuozhou; her eyes were staring so hard they practically smoked.

Of course, she wasn’t “smoking” at Ji Zhuozhou, but at the shadows of the people moving back and forth, blocking her view of Ji Zhuozhou.

They seemed to be discussing their positions for a photo. Ji Zhuozhou was initially standing in the front, but after saying something to her director, she moved to the back row.

In this shop, which was relatively empty at this time, Xiao Shuangyu changed seats three times in a row before finally finding a spot where she could see a bit more of Ji Zhuozhou.

It was just that some people wouldn’t stand still; they swayed back and forth, obstructing her line of sight.

The greasy tentacles constantly emerging around her lashed out unconsciously, creating an absolute vacuum of gloom in the shop.

The shop assistants, who had been chatting and laughing just a moment ago, fell eerily silent for a second. When they returned to normal, there was more low-voiced whispering.

Words like “reporter,” “paparazzi,” “detective,” and “event” occasionally reached Xiao Shuangyu’s ears, but she didn’t pay them the slightest bit of attention.

Ten o’clock arrived quickly. A few minutes later, three cars pulled up and stopped in front of Huarui.

The industry experts who were revered by everyone at Huarui were not within Xiao Shuangyu’s scope of familiarity. She only glanced over when the crowd over their broke formation and completely blocked Ji Zhuozhou.

As expected, she didn’t recognize any of them.

But when the people from Huari escorted several experts into the building, Ji Zhuozhou, who had been in the back, circled around and stood at the very end.

She stood clearly within Xiao Shuangyu’s line of sight, completely unobstructed.

Xiao Shuangyu involuntarily held her breath.

But even if she held her breath, Ji Zhuozhou wouldn’t know, nor would she slow her pace because of it.

Ji Zhuozhou stopped.

She turned around, her deep green eyes sweeping across the street.

It was just a single glance, showing no sign of pause or notice.

It was as if she were simply confirming if any more experts’ cars were trailing behind.

But across the street, in a relatively quiet little shop, there was a sudden, sharp scraping sound.

Xiao Shuangyu pushed her chair back and hid against the wall behind her, grabbing her canvas bag from the table and clutching it to her chest, concealing her presence entirely.

She lowered her head, her face pale, but her heart was beating violently and her ears were ringing.

After a long while, she let out a muffled laugh.

She had overreacted.

At this distance, and with her sitting by the greenery in the shop, how could Ji Zhuozhou possibly discover her or see her?

Instead, it was she who had missed the chance to make eye contact with Ji Zhuozhou.

It didn’t feel great.

Xiao Shuangyu’s mood plummeted significantly.

Until noon, when she found another place to eat, her phone, which had been silent all this time, finally buzzed.

She glanced at it casually, thinking it would be a message from the band’s group chat. But in the center of her vision, a small sailboat icon appeared.

Xiao Shuangyu was startled. Before she could even react, she had already grabbed the phone and held it before her eyes.

Sailboat: [Image] [Image]

[Sailboat]: The food is great today, it’s a pity Lianlian isn’t here. Sailboat: What is Lianlian eating for lunch? Are you eating well?

The moment she saw there were pictures, Xiao Shuangyu instinctively saved and downloaded them. The whole process was extremely fluid and fast, as if it had become muscle memory.

Only after doing this did, she look at the content of the pictures.

The first picture showed the cafeteria dishes, which had become even more exquisite due to the visiting experts. They looked delicious—a level of deliciousness far beyond the usual.

The second picture was of the tray in front of Ji Zhuozhou.

Before she even had time to see what Ji Zhuozhou was eating, she zoomed in on the metal spoon in the photo.

On the polished surface of the spoon, a tiny reflection of Ji Zhuozhou holding her phone was visible.

Xiao Shuangyu’s heart went thump-thump. She turned her phone horizontally to take a picture of the food in front of her, but before she could press the shutter, she put the phone back down.

The name of the restaurant was written on the tray; anyone could tell immediately that it was right in front of Huarui.

She scratched her head and chose to tell a lie.

It really is good; I just finished eating.

Her fingers tapped on the phone, but she couldn’t manage to send anything else.

She fussed with her phone for a long time but didn’t get a response from Ji Zhuozhou.

Though, the message she sent really didn’t seem like something that required a response.

But she also wanted to eat with Ji Zhuozhou; she wanted to eat in the cafeteria with her.

She looked up, staring at the empty seat across from her, then lowered her head and picked up her chopsticks again.

It tasted like nothing.

Xiao Shuangyu chewed bitterly, and before she could even swallow, she heard another buzz.

She immediately dropped her chopsticks to check. As expected, it was a message from Ji Zhuozhou.

Sailboat: What did you eat?

Xiao Shuangyu looked at the tray on the table and quickly gave it a “no” in her heart.

She couldn’t say.

But Ji Zhuozhou had asked.

She had to say something.

But what could she say?

Names of several shops flashed through Xiao Shuangyu’s mind—all places she and Ji Zhuozhou had passed when going for breakfast over the last few days, all near their residential area.

She picked one that felt relatively familiar, typed it into the input box, and sent it.

After sending it, she wiped non-existent sweat from her forehead, feeling like everything was finally safe.

She took another bite of rice and felt like it wasn’t so tasteless anymore, so she shoveled in three more mouthfuls.

Her cheeks were puffed out.

Her phone rang.

She looked at her phone. Ji Zhuozhou said: Oh, that place. That place delivers. Lianlian, take a picture of the shop’s business card for me.

Xiao Shuangyu was stunned.

What business card?

With a huge mouthful of rice in her mouth, her stunned brain began to spin rapidly.

Finally, she said: I’ve already left. I’ll go get it next time.

Just as the message was sent, a video call request popped up.

Xiao Shuangyu was startled. With a wave of her hand, she sent her chopsticks flying off to the side, landing with several clatters.

Panicked, Xiao Shuangyu grabbed her phone and was about to run out, but then she didn’t know where to run. For a moment, she stood frozen in confusion.

Pop. The video call ended.

Ji Zhuozhou had hung up. Xiao Shuangyu’s frantic footsteps stopped as she finally managed to breathe—carefully.

What should she do? Should she call back?

If she went to the restroom, could she talk without letting Ji Zhuozhou see the surroundings?

But Ji Zhuozhou was in the middle of eating.

It wouldn’t do to not reply to Ji Zhuozhou either; she couldn’t ignore her.

Maybe… a voice call?

Before she could decide, another buzz came through.

Sailboat: Sorry, I tapped the wrong button. The business card isn’t urgent either; just get it when you have the chance later.

Xiao Shuangyu slumped back into her chair. It took her a long while before her weak, limp teeth could continue chewing the rice to swallow it.

She responded to Ji Zhuozhou, her hands shaking so much she could barely press the send button.

On the third floor of Huari, Ji Zhuozhou received another message.

Xiao Shuangyu [Smile]: Okay, I’ll come eat there tomorrow too.

Ji Zhuozhou turned off her phone screen.

She rested her hand against the side of her face, her gaze falling from the window to a shop across from Huari.

She looked through the somewhat unclear window glass, toward the figure hidden behind the pane.

Her fingertip rested on the phone screen, tapping rhythmically. She unlocked it again, her deep green eyes glancing lightly at the “Cancelled” video call in the chat interface.

A moment later, she picked up her phone again and sent a message to another contact.