One Year After Her Sister-In-Law Was Widowed - Chapter 49

Xiao Shuangyu swayed within the subway carriage.

Grayish-black dust fluttered and fell from around her like rotting tentacles, a viscous flow spreading outward.

In the not-entirely-empty carriage, a large space had cleared around her.

Unaware, Xiao Shuangyu stared at her phone, her heavy heart beating slowly.

Wan Qiyan had just called her again to ask about her situation.

That was half an hour after she had hung up on Su Yuran’s mother. Having calmed her emotions, she was just about to stand up from the seat on the subway platform when Wan Qiyan’s call came through.

Xiao Shuangyu didn’t board that train; she stayed where she was to answer.

She said she wouldn’t be getting married.

She said her mother had changed her mind.

Wan Qiyan let out a laugh. “Did you get to know some powerful figure?”

Xiao Shuangyu didn’t understand.

Wan Qiyan said, “I heard someone wants to acquire the project over there. It’s still in negotiations, but the buyer specifically requested that the person involved be single.”

“The other side thought the buyer took a fancy to them; now they’re thinking of climbing the social ladder and don’t care about any alliance through marriage anymore. If you ask me, it has nothing to do with them—it seems like it was aimed at helping you.”

Xiao Shuangyu asked who the buyer was.

Wan Qiyan said it was the Shengjing Group.

Xiao Shuangyu denied it on the spot.

Who hadn’t heard of Shengjing? Unlike small-time families like theirs, Shengjing truly lived up to its name—a genuine titan of wealth.

Moreover, Shengjing primarily developed in the north and wasn’t close to them. Xiao Shuangyu had never even left the province; how could she know anyone from Shengjing?

Rather than thinking she knew someone from Shengjing or that someone she knew was connected to them, Xiao Shuangyu preferred to believe it was a coincidence.

Businessmen are driven by profit; if not for interest, Shengjing probably wouldn’t choose to acquire it.

Though the requirement for being single was indeed strange.

At least it resolved a major weight on Xiao Shuangyu’s heart, which she felt was good.

Although her mother wanting her to attend the banquet meant she probably hadn’t given up on her ideas entirely, at the very least, she shouldn’t be so urgent anymore.

However, Xiao Shuangyu, staring intently at her screen, wasn’t brooding over an uncertain future; she was looking at a photo Wan Qiyan had sent.

With the most pressing matter resolved, Wan Qiyan offered a few comforting words about things working out in the end, chatted briefly about recent events, and finally sent a photo of herself with her girlfriend.

In the photo, a tanned Wan Qiyan held a foreign woman with brown hair and green eyes in her arms. The two were locked in a tight embrace under the sunlight, smiling brilliantly at the camera.

One look was enough to see their relationship, the love overflowing from their eyes.

Looking at those green eyes, Xiao Shuangyu thought of a completely different green—Ji Zhuozhou’s green.

Those deep green eyes were ice-cold when she demanded that their photos be deleted.

All of them.

Including all the ones Xiao Shuangyu hadn’t been able to see.

The memory of the only photo she had seen floated before her eyes, and the atmosphere around her grew even more somber.

Perhaps, perhaps Ji Zhuozhou just didn’t like taking photos; it didn’t necessarily mean anything, she thought.

By the time she left A-Nan and Nie Siyu to return to Ji Zhuozhou’s home, Ji Zhuozhou hadn’t returned yet.

Xiao Shuangyu didn’t turn on the lights. She turned around and sat directly in the entryway, her gaze falling on the closed door.

The days were growing shorter; it was completely dark before eight o’clock.

However, the moonlight was bright, pouring into the room so that it didn’t feel too dark.

The light reached into the shadowed entryway, slicing across Xiao Shuangyu and reflecting in her excessively dark pupils.

They had been drinking. She carried a hint of alcohol and tipsiness, her head feeling a bit dizzy.

The viral success of that video had driven traffic to many other videos under the TH Bar account. Although they hadn’t reached “viral” status, they had gained a fair amount of traction.

Ji Xunxia had waved her hand and offered to treat them to a meal, transferring a very respectable sum of money.

As for the person herself, Ji Xunxia had long since run off to another city for a vacation and couldn’t make it back.

The three of them took the money to soak in hot springs, get massages, and eat a grand meal with some drinks. Just as they were thinking of going for a second round, Xiao Shuangyu came back.

She still carried the sweet scent of milk, mixed with the aroma of red wine, appearing fluffy and soft.

But her heart felt empty and raw, gurgling with sourness.

Before leaving, A-Nan and Nie Siyu had teased her, asking if she was in a hurry to go home to her “sister,” if the sister was her girlfriend, and if she had a photo of her.

Amidst her head-shaking, the two asked in confusion how she could not have one.

She said they hadn’t taken any.

The two let out an “Ah,” and asked when they had confessed and gotten together—had they been together this long without taking a single photo?

She blinked and gave a vague answer.

But a single word had stuck in her heart, and she thought about it for a long time.

“Confession.”

Right, a confession.

Had she ever confessed to Ji Zhuozhou?

Had Ji Zhuozhou ever responded saying she wanted to be her girlfriend?

No.

Never.

Ji Zhuozhou wasn’t her girlfriend; they weren’t in a relationship.

But they lived together, they slept together… were they in a “friends with benefits” relationship?

Xiao Mingyi wouldn’t get too entangled with a bed partner, wouldn’t take photos with one, wouldn’t fall in love, and wouldn’t even leave contact information.

Was she also just a bed partner to Ji Zhuozhou?

A somewhat special… bed partner?

Outside the door, footsteps sounded.

It was Ji Zhuozhou.

Xiao Shuangyu didn’t stand up to greet her; she waited quietly for the door to open.

Dazzling light spilled into the entryway. Xiao Shuangyu squinted, unaccustomed to it. She looked at the gentle and beautiful silhouette in the light, looking into those deep green eyes, and murmured, “Sister.”

Unprepared, Ji Zhuozhou was somewhat startled. She immediately reached out to switch on the light. “Why are you sitting here?”

The entryway brightened instantly. Xiao Shuangyu slowly stood up in the light.

She said, “I was waiting for you.”

A bouquet of flowers entered her vision along with the wide-open door, and then was handed into her arms.

Xiao Shuangyu froze. She saw Ji Zhuozhou step forward, the hand that had been holding the flowers reaching out to cup her neck as she kissed the corner of her lips. “Congratulations, Lian-Lian.”

Ji Zhuozhou retracted quickly, but the scent of rain-misted flowers and a very faint perfume lingered at the corner of her lips, a rich fragrance in her breath.

Xiao Shuangyu was stunned. “What?”

Ji Zhuozhou closed the door, her eyes curving in a gentle smile. “Lian-Lian’s performance has surpassed a million likes, hasn’t it? This is a congratulatory gift.”

In her other hand was a small shopping bag.

Xiao Shuangyu took it blankly. “A gift… for me?”

Ji Zhuozhou nodded, took her wrist to lead her back to the living room, and pressed her down onto the sofa. “Open it here. See if you like it.”

Xiao Shuangyu’s mood stalled. For a moment, her mind was a mess; she forgot everything and obediently opened the box.

Ji Zhuozhou’s voice drifted by her ear, carrying a hint of suspicion. “LianLian smells so good. What did you all do?”

Xiao Shuangyu’s dizzy brain could hardly multitask. She paused her movements and said they had gone for a soak, eaten, and drank some red wine.

She rubbed the ribbon she had already untied, not noticing that behind her, the slight furrow in Ji Zhuozhou’s brow had smoothed out.

Ji Zhuozhou said softly, “I see. It’s good as long as you had fun. Hurry and open it.”

Xiao Shuangyu opened the packaging and pulled out a heavy-duty leather collar.

The collar was bold and distinctive, the cold glint of metal flashing in her eyes. Xiao Shuangyu looked up blankly at Ji Zhuozhou behind her.

Ji Zhuozhou smiled at her. “I feel like it really suits your performances. If you perform again next time, can you wear it?”

Xiao Shuangyu was completely unable to think; she nodded.

Ji Zhuozhou went to wash up.

In the living room, Xiao Shuangyu buried her face in the bouquet, inhaling deeply.

So fragrant.

The scent disturbed her thoughts. The emotions that had vanished because of the gift and the kiss crawled back bit by bit, a viscous wriggling.

When Ji Zhuozhou came out of the bathroom, this was the scene she witnessed.

Only, in those green eyes, the Xiao Shuangyu she saw didn’t look gloomy at all. She looked like a clean, fluffy puppy, carefully using her nose to explore the world.

Sure enough, choosing to throw away the flowers I received and buy new ones for Xiao Shuangyu was the right move. Xiao Shuangyu completely failed to notice any other scents on me, Ji Zhuozhou thought.

Ji Zhuozhou lowered her lashes to hide the rising darkness in her eyes, then looked up again. “Do you like them that much?”

Xiao Shuangyu straightened up abruptly and looked at Ji Zhuozhou. Her dark, “sanpaku” eyes were wide, carrying a bit of flustered embarrassment at being caught, yet she didn’t look away. “Because… Sister gave them to me.”

Ji Zhuozhou walked close to her and plucked a small leaf that had caught in her hair from burying her face too deep. “Then I’ll give them to Lian-Lian often in the future.”

She stiffened for a moment. She was about to shake her head, but paused at the words “in the future.”

She lowered her gaze, falling into a conflict.

Xiao Shuangyu thought about the confession again. She wondered if she confessed now, would Ji Zhuozhou agree?

Could she make up for it? The relationship they lacked.

But before she could reach a conclusion, Ji Zhuozhou suddenly said, “I have to go on a business trip tomorrow. I might be away for a few days.”

Xiao Shuangyu froze. Her inner conflict vanished instantly.

This wasn’t a good time.

Xiao Shuangyu didn’t speak; she simply nodded.

Ji Zhuozhou led her to the balcony, saying they should look at the moon together.

The bright moon hung in the sky. Xiao Shuangyu lowered her head and chewed on a mooncake, but still couldn’t help but speak, drawing Ji Zhuozhou’s privately melancholy gaze away from the moon and onto her own face.

The band, the business trip, the bar, the collar—she crowded out every possibility of Ji Zhuozhou thinking of Xiao Mingyi, yet she didn’t feel happy.

She didn’t want to go many days without seeing Ji Zhuozhou.

The night grew deeper.

They left the balcony. Ji Zhuozhou went to the study, saying she needed to organize some things for the trip. Xiao Shuangyu didn’t follow.

But through the opening door, she saw the photo frame by the desk.

A few minutes later, Xiao Shuangyu knocked on the study door. She pushed open the door that no longer left a crack for her, meeting Ji Zhuozhou’s gaze from behind the desk. She said in a low voice, “Sister, can I come in?”

Ji Zhuozhou glanced at her laptop screen, clicked away from the image, and nodded to her.

Given permission, Xiao Shuangyu walked in step by step. She rounded the desk toward Ji Zhuozhou, using her body to block the view as she slightly turned the photo frame to face her and Ji Zhuozhou directly.

She leaned down, her long arms encircling Ji Zhuozhou’s lap and waist, lifting her directly from the chair, drawing an unprepared gasp from Ji Zhuozhou.

She placed Ji Zhuozhou on the desk and hugged her tightly.

Her fuzzy head buried into Ji Zhuozhou’s neck, sniffing deeply as she had with the flowers. She said, “Sister, you have to miss me.”

“You have to miss me every single day.”

She didn’t say she would miss her sister; she told her sister to miss her.

Her emotions were deep and heavy, almost unable to hide a thick, selfish desire.

A bit of dampness lightly nipped at the side of her neck. Ji Zhuozhou said, “Lian-Lian smells so good.”

Xiao Shuangyu blanked for a second and looked up.

A hand landed on her pajama collar, undoing the buttons one by one, revealing a patch of pale skin on her chest.

Ji Zhuozhou’s gemstone-clear eyes curved slightly as she met her gaze. Her voice was thin and soft. “I’m thinking of you right now.”

Xiao Shuangyu blinked, heat rapidly flooding her ears.

The viscous, rich selfishness did not diminish; instead, it grew exponentially.

She leaned forward slightly, one hand landing on the desk behind Ji Zhuozhou, the other on her slender waist, pulling her into an embrace.

She pressed her lips against Ji Zhuozhou’s—those beautiful, soft, sweet lips.

A light kiss, a light touch.

Increasing bit by bit, deepening bit by bit, wanting to meld the two of them into one.

The sound of breathing could no longer be hidden; the sturdy study desk began to wobble slightly.

With a clack, a photo frame tipped over and fell face down.

Ji Zhuozhou’s unfocused vision sharpened slightly as she turned her head toward the sound, only to be noticed by Xiao Shuangyu.

Xiao Shuangyu turned Ji Zhuozhou’s face back and kissed her on the lips.