One Year After Her Sister-In-Law Was Widowed - Chapter 4
Beep.
The security door opened from the inside. Xiao Shuangyu only then reacted, taking several steps back in a panic, her gaze dropping flustered.
Ji Zhuozhou followed her out, stepping completely past the access-controlled door that partitioned the interior from the outside world. “Why are you here?”
Her soft voice carried a hint of surprise and confusion; clearly, she hadn’t expected to see her here.
However, the one thing missing from that voice was joy.
Xiao Shuangyu’s gaze landed on Ji Zhuozhou’s indifferent lips. Her voice sounded a bit muffled. “I’m here for work.”
Only then did Ji Zhuozhou notice the all-black security uniform she was wearing.
June weather was scorching, and the security staff had already switched to summer uniforms. The black short-sleeved shirt was tucked into black trousers, cinched by a wide belt at the waist, easily outlining a segment of a lean, fit waistline.
However, Ji Zhuozhou noticed the edge of a cap peeking out from her trouser pocket, marking the difference between Xiao Shuangyu and the security captain.
“Is today your first day?”
Xiao Shuangyu didn’t speak; she simply nodded.
“As a security guard?”
Even though it was obvious, Ji Zhuozhou asked anyway.
Xiao Shuangyu nodded again.
With another beep, a colleague opened the door and walked in, bypassing them to open a second security door. Before leaving, the colleague’s curious eyes drifted over to them, not looking away until they were far off.
This was certainly not the place for a conversation.
Ji Zhuozhou looked toward Wang Ran. “Sister Ran, are you busy right now?”
Seeing that the two obviously knew each other and that Ji Zhuozhou likely wanted to chat privately, Wang Ran laughed and played along. “Not busy, not busy. Teacher Ji, please, go ahead and talk.”
Ji Zhuozhou gave a slight nod. Just as she was about to lead Xiao Shuangyu away, she saw Wang Ran turn back to Xiao Shuangyu. “I’m going to the restroom. Lianlian, just call me when you’re done.”
Ji Zhuozhou paused involuntarily. Once Xiao Shuangyu had responded, she led her to a small, separate meeting room that didn’t require access clearance.
As the door closed, in the suddenly enclosed space, Xiao Shuangyu’s gaze couldn’t help but crawl back toward Ji Zhuozhou.
However, the moment Ji Zhuozhou turned around, she immediately averted her eyes, though she couldn’t help but take an imperceptible sniff of the air.
Likely having just come from the laboratory, Ji Zhuozhou carried a faint scent of spices mixed with the atmosphere of rain and mist. It smelled wonderful.
Ji Zhuozhou didn’t notice. She simply asked, “Is ‘Lianlian’ your nickname?”
Xiao Shuangyu was stunned for a moment. She realized she had never mentioned that name in front of Ji Zhuozhou before. She nodded, and just as she was struggling to find the right words, Ji Zhuozhou spoke again.
“I see. Can I call you that too?”
Xiao Shuangyu lifted her head, her gaze meeting Ji Zhuozhou’s emerald-like eyes in a daze, doubting her own ears.
Before Ji Zhuozhou could take it back, she nodded vigorously. “You can.”
Those beautiful eyes narrowed slightly, as if a flicker of a smile had surfaced, and she asked curiously, “Lianlian, you’re graduating this year, right? Have you received your diploma yet?”
The way Ji Zhuozhou said “Lianlian” was just like her usual voice—clear and cool yet tinged with a softness that made it feel incredibly intimate, enough to make one feel lightheaded.
No, no. Even when she called out “Sister Ran” just now, it had a similar feeling. It wasn’t a special exception Ji Zhuozhou was making for her.
Xiao Shuangyu struggled to break free from the trance, only to fall into another one: Ji Zhuozhou actually remembered she was graduating this year.
Her heart swelled again, an unfamiliar warmth filling her chest and trying to spill out of her throat.
She lowered her head and nodded, trying hard to swallow back the strange sensation. Her voice was dry. “I’ve received it.”
“Why did you think of becoming a security guard?”
Xiao Shuangyu froze for a second, her earlobes turning a suspicious shade of red. She tugged at her neatly tucked hem, her hand sliding down to her trouser pocket.
Feeling helpless, she pinched the half-exposed brim of her hat she had taken off earlier to get a closer look through the glass, and now it gave her hands something to hold onto.
After a long silence, Xiao Shuangyu squeezed a few words through her teeth.
She said, “The uniform is very cool.”
In front of her, Ji Zhuozhou let out a soft laugh, seemingly agreeing with her reasoning. “It is indeed very cool.”
She added, “It makes you look even prettier. It’s very likable.”
It was a compliment.
It was definitely a compliment, yet Xiao Shuangyu didn’t feel that reflexive discomfort.
There was no nausea rising in her chest; instead, her heart suddenly began to beat violently.
She looked up, seeking out Ji Zhuozhou’s eyes.
Those deep green eyes were slightly curved, carrying an unmistakable smile.
Like.
Like like like like.
I like her so much.
With a buzz, her brain went into overload, leaving only one thought.
Record it. I must record this.
Her dark pupils stared unblinkingly at Ji Zhuozhou’s face, trying to firmly etch every detail of that beautiful face into the depths of her heart.
She completely forgot that she was just as exposed to Ji Zhuozhou’s gaze.
Ji Zhuozhou’s smiles soon faded. Xiao Shuangyu snapped back to reality, suddenly realizing what she had just done. She quickly dropped her gaze, looking around frantically in a panic, trying to find a topic to divert Ji Zhuozhou’s attention.
Ji Zhuozhou spoke first. “Was the interview difficult?”
Recruiting for security didn’t involve upper management, and the process was usually simple. Since she said today was her first day, it likely meant she had just gone through the interview.
These words were like a lifeline. Xiao Shuangyu was finally able to breathe. She shook her head hurriedly. “It wasn’t hard. I have a security certificate.”
This surprised Ji Zhuozhou a little. Although she didn’t know much about security certificates, based on Xiao Shuangyu’s reaction, she must have been very well-prepared.
It seemed she really wanted to wear this security uniform.
As for why she chose Huarui, Ji Zhuozhou didn’t ask.
But Xiao Shuangyu already had an answer ready.
Coincidence.
Huarui’s benefits were indeed better than many surrounding companies, so choosing Huarui wasn’t strange.
Of course, that wasn’t the real answer. Even the excuse about wanting to be a guard because the uniform was “cool” was a lie.
The truth was, she wanted to see Ji Zhuozhou from a closer distance. Even if they bumped into each other, it wouldn’t seem out of place.
Comparatively, the success rate for a security guard interview was higher, and the role was more flexible than other positions, giving her a valid reason to appear on any floor of the Huarui building.
But such an answer could never be said to Ji Zhuozhou herself.
Since it was Xiao Shuangyu’s first day of work, Ji Zhuozhou didn’t keep her any longer. She took out her phone and opened WeChat. “It’s almost lunch break. Let’s add each other. Go back to work for now, and I’ll treat you to a meal when we’re off.”
Xiao Shuangyu was hit by another wave of shock. She fumbled to take out her phone, her hands shaking so much she could barely unlock the screen.
She had once dreamed of asking Ji Zhuozhou for her contact information; she never expected to get it so easily on her first day at Huarui. It was a speed she couldn’t have imagined even in her wildest dreams.
They had never had each other’s contact info. The interval between Xiao Mingyi’s wedding and funeral had been too short and hurried; there had never been a suitable moment for the two of them to sit down and talk properly.
But none of that mattered anymore.
Xiao Shuangyu finally opened her phone and WeChat. She opened her QR code and handed it to Ji Zhuozhou. “I… I’ll treat you.”
Ji Zhuozhou’s hand paused. “Hmm?”
Xiao Shuangyu panicked even more. “Yesterday… you treated me.”
She was referring to that breakfast.
Ji Zhuozhou drew out a long “Oh.” She didn’t accept or refuse, simply scanning the name card in front of her with precision.
Her slender, fair fingers tapped and swiped on the screen. Suddenly, she moved the phone closer to Xiao Shuangyu and asked, “Is ‘Lianlian’ the ‘Lian’ for ‘smiley face’ (Xiao Lian)?”
Xiao Shuangyu was dazed for a moment before nodding quickly. She then watched as Ji Zhuozhou added a small yellow smiley face emoji next to her alias.
Ji Zhuozhou looked up at her. “Alright, just accept the request. Someone is looking for me, so I’ll head off first.”
Xiao Shuangyu seemed to have turned into an idiot, only able to nod in response.
Following Ji Zhuozhou out of the small meeting room, Xiao Shuangyu stood rooted to the spot, not even remembering to raise her hand to wave goodbye.
It wasn’t until Ji Zhuozhou’s silhouette completely disappeared behind the security door that Xiao Shuangyu finally regained her senses.
She looked down and clicked into the newly appeared friend request. She typed and deleted, typed and deleted, and finally chose a tiny sailboat emoji from the input method, then clicked accept.
Watching the page transition into their chat interface, Xiao Shuangyu still felt like she was dreaming.
Does she really have Ji Zhuozhou’s contact information?
Really?
Is this not a dream?
Her body felt light, as if she were floating. She instinctively wanted to click on Ji Zhuozhou’s profile picture and scrutinize her WeChat from start to finish.
But before her fingertip landed, she stopped herself.
She was still at the company, still on the clock, and Wang Ran was waiting for her. She had to endure.
With a surge of willpower, she locked her phone, looked around, and prepared to head toward the restroom.
But after just a few steps, she saw Wang Ran turn a corner from the direction of the breakroom. Seeing her, Wang Ran immediately walked over.
“Where’s Teacher Ji? Are you two done talking?”
Xiao Shuangyu nodded, her expression very tense as she tried to suppress the smile she was unconsciously forming.
Even so, her expression was still strange, carrying a distorted mix of extreme excitement and extreme caution.
But Wang Ran didn’t seem to notice. Her attention was entirely on something else. She lowered her voice and leaned slightly closer to Xiao Shuangyu. “Lianlian, are you very close with Teacher Ji?”
Hearing this, the image of the Omega in a wedding dress standing next to Xiao Mingyi over a year ago surfaced in Xiao Shuangyu’s mind. Her distorted expression suddenly became flat filled with jealousy.
Her tone was muffled and reluctant. “We know each other.”
Wang Ran nodded. The two of them stepped into the elevator to continue upward. As the elevator doors slowly closed, the mirrored interior reflected both their faces. Wang Ran glanced at Xiao Shuangyu’s slightly lowered brows before turning back to continue.
“Um, don’t be angry if I say something wrong, but is CEO Xiao from Star flash Technology your sister? I just remembered, you two look quite similar.”
In an instant, Xiao Shuangyu’s entire spirit wilted.
Xiao Mingyi.
Xiao Mingyi again!
Wang Ran’s words were just a polite way of putting it; Wang Ran must have realized her relationship with Ji Zhuozhou.
Ji Zhuozhou was her sister’s wife.
It had nothing to do with her.
I hate it.
I hate Xiao Mingyi.
The tenth floor was for senior management. In the hallway, Wang Ran lowered her voice even further. “The matter between CEO Xiao and Teacher Ji isn’t a secret in the company, but it’s inevitable that some people might say unpleasant things. If… if you hear anything, you mustn’t take it to heart.”
Xiao Shuangyu hadn’t even listened. Her dark eyes became increasingly murky, silently screaming with loathing and jealousy. She hadn’t heard a word of Wang Ran’s warning.
For the rest of the shift, Xiao Shuangyu was in a foul mood. Even when Wang Ran took her to lunch, she couldn’t muster an ounce of interest in the lavish employee cafeteria or its dishes.
It wasn’t until after lunch, when she and Wang Ran were sitting in the security breakroom for a rest, that the little sailboat popped up on her phone screen, bringing a message from Ji Zhuozhou.
Sailboat: Lianlian, did you go to eat? I didn’t see you.