One Year After Her Sister-In-Law Was Widowed - Chapter 5

The staff canteen at Huarui was located on the third floor of the building, and during the lunch break, it could be described as densely crowded.

In such a somewhat cramped space, the area around Ji Zhuozhou appeared noticeably empty.

After circling a few times and failing to find Xiao Shuangyu among the few employees wearing security uniforms, Ji Zhuozhou sent her a message to inquire.

Learning that Xiao Shuangyu had already eaten—and that the security staff generally ate in shifts, plus she didn’t intend to treat her to the canteen anyway, Ji Zhuozhou temporarily ended the conversation. She selected a few simple dishes and found an empty seat to sit down on.

Because she had spent time looking for Xiao Shuangyu, the few people nearby had already finished eating and left quickly, leaving a “vacuum zone” around Ji Zhuozhou.

Ji Zhuozhou looked up, watching several young people laughing and walking away. As they stepped out of the canteen doors, her gaze unconsciously drifted to the side.

There, by the wall, was a flash of a black hem.

It was a security guard on duty.

Ji Zhuozhou blinked and withdrew her gaze. Her fingers, as white and smooth as jade, tapped on her phone beside the tray.

No new messages.

Screen off, then lit up again.

When the screen went dark once more, Ji Zhuozhou stopped paying attention and began to eat.

On the other hand, Xiao Shuangyu leaned against the wall outside the canteen, her heart rate almost uncontrollable.

She had been this close to being discovered.

From the moment she received Ji Zhuozhou’s message to the moment she returned to the canteen floor, the time elapsed was so short it was almost negligible. She hadn’t even thought of waiting for the elevator, taking the stairs several steps at a time to run up.

Pressing herself against the fire door in the distant stairwell, she had watched Ji Zhuozhou standing at the canteen entrance, looking around for her. She had silently delayed her reply by a few seconds.

Ji Zhuozhou was waiting for her, Ji Zhuozhou focused only on her—she wanted that moment to last a little longer.

That was time that belonged only to her.

Perhaps even though she had already eaten, she could have lied and said she hadn’t, appearing naturally in Ji Zhuozhou’s line of sight to sit across from her in the Huarui canteen and eat a little more.

But long-standing habits meant such an option didn’t even exist in her mind; even now, she didn’t dare appear before Ji Zhuozhou.

She watched Ji Zhuozhou reply to her messages, end their conversation, enter the canteen to choose lunch, and find a seat.

Xiao Shuangyu’s position shifted from the fire door to the canteen’s main entrance. She remained cautious, her eyes fixed tightly on that one person.

Since there were already security guards stationed outside the canteen, Xiao Shuangyu didn’t look out of place. Just before Ji Zhuozhou looked over, a colleague had greeted her and asked if she could cover for a moment while they stepped away.

Xiao Shuangyu hadn’t refused, but upon turning back, she nearly made direct eye contact with Ji Zhuozhou.

She dodged quickly, unsure if Ji Zhuozhou had seen her. She debated whether to abandon her colleague’s request and leave immediately.

But it felt as though her feet had taken root; she couldn’t move an inch.

She didn’t want to leave.

Seconds ticked by, and Ji Zhuozhou didn’t come over.

Ji Zhuozhou hadn’t seen her.

Xiao Shuangyu unconsciously let out a sigh of relief, then suppressed the tiny, inexplicable spark of disappointment deep into her heart. She carefully turned to look for Ji Zhuozhou again.

Ji Zhuozhou had already taken off her white lab coat, revealing an elegant, refined long dress beneath. Her long hair was pinned up at the back of her head, giving her a clean and graceful appearance.

She was eating focused.

Taking small bites, her speed wasn’t slow, and her movements were beautiful and poised—no different from when they sat across from each other at dinner the previous night.

No, that wasn’t right. It should be said that she was even clearer now.

So, when Ji Zhuozhou ate, she would slightly lower her eyes, and when she bit into something, her eyes would narrow slightly. Her whole being seemed to be glowing.

A soft light.

Xiao Shuangyu didn’t often get to see Ji Zhuozhou eating. Even if past meetings had coincided with mealtimes, they were never this close, never this unobstructed.

Xiao Shuangyu instinctively devoted her entire gaze to her, exceptionally open about it.

“What are you doing, acting all sneaky?”

A colleague who had returned leaned in beside her, following her line of sight, and spoke up in confusion.

Caught off guard, Xiao Shuangyu gave a violent start and turned her head. She saw her colleague’s smile slowly freeze; the colleague looked back at her and let out a heavy sigh.

“You couldn’t be looking at Ji Zhuozhou, could you? The one in that empty space in the middle.”

It was a statement, not a question.

Wang Ran hadn’t told the colleagues about her relationship with Ji Zhuozhou. This person hadn’t been there long and had never met Xiao Mingyi, so they had no secret suspicions.

In this state of ignorance, perhaps fueled by a natural sense of solidarity among newcomers, the colleague didn’t hold anything back. With a touch of elder-like concern, she patted Xiao Shuangyu on the shoulder.

“Stay away from that woman. Nothing good happens to those who get close to her. A lot of things have happened since she joined the company. And you wouldn’t believe it—she was widowed only a month after getting married last year. She has no family left either. She’s really a jinx; it’s quite eerie.”

The colleague continued to ramble on about the rumors she’d heard from various sources, but for Xiao Shuangyu, it was going in one ear and out the other.

She turned her gaze back to Ji Zhuozhou. Although to her colleague, her expressionless face seemed to represent shock and confusion, in reality, she felt she was hearing rare, good news.

Good news like this should be spread as much as possible. Whether true or false, throw it all in so that everyone’s first reaction upon thinking of Ji Zhuozhou is that they mustn’t approach her. Then, it would be best if no one ever went near her.

If that happened, it would probably only be her, right?

Xiao Shuangyu blinked. As Ji Zhuozhou put down her chopsticks and stood up to return her tray, Xiao Shuangyu quickly bid farewell to her colleague and hurried toward the stairwell.

The sudden drop of light was strangely comforting. Xiao Shuangyu stared at the descending stairs for a moment, then turned back to the fire door, peering out through the gap.

Soon, she saw Ji Zhuozhou at the canteen entrance.

Ji Zhuozhou didn’t leave immediately. Her emerald-like eyes lightly swept over the security guards outside the canteen, then drifted further, scanning the surroundings. Without saying a word, she headed toward the elevators.

The elevators were in a bit of a blind spot from the stairwell. Xiao Shuangyu couldn’t see them and feared being discovered if she went out. She leaned back into the corner between the fire door and the wall, head lowered, waiting quietly.

After a short while, her phone suddenly rang.

She picked it up and saw Wang Ran was contacting her; their break time was over.

Xiao Shuangyu replied with a “Coming back now,” and tried once more to look out from the fire door but saw nothing.

At this hour, the elevators shouldn’t be too hard to catch. Ji Zhuozhou should have already left this floor.

Xiao Shuangyu withdrew her gaze, turned around, and walked downstairs.

On the other hand, elevators came and went. Ji Zhuozhou stood before them, looking down at her phone, repeatedly lighting up the screen and letting it go dark.

No messages.

Several colleagues walked over and crowded into an elevator that had just arrived. Through the closing doors, one of them asked hesitantly, “Teacher Ji, aren’t you going?”

Ji Zhuozhou put her phone away, her thick, raven-feather lashes lifting to reveal emerald eyes so beautiful they could steal one’s soul. “I’m going.”

The security at Huarui worked in three shifts. Xiao Shuangyu was on the morning shift, finishing at 4:00 PM.

After listening to Wang Ran’s handover instructions, she took off her security uniform and left the Huarui building. Inexplicably, Xiao Shuangyu turned back and looked up high at the towering structure.

The weather was excellent; the sunlight was intense and scorching. Even looking from the shadows toward the ninth floor, the ubiquitous golden light stung her eyes.

She pulled her baseball cap down to block the sun. Before leaving the building area, she crossed the pedestrian walk to the opposite side of Huarui, found a random shop, and sat down by the window.

She placed her phone in front of her, sat up straight, and stared at the chat interface, focusing on the tiny sailboat pinned at the top. She remained as still as a statue for a long time.

The drink she ordered was soon served. The ice in the glass melted bit by bit, and thick condensation gradually formed on the outside of the glass.

Xiao Shuangyu didn’t move an inch, completely ignoring it.

It wasn’t until about half an hour later that a red notification circle suddenly lit up on the sailboat’s tail.

Almost instantly, Xiao Shuangyu clicked into it. her dark eyes fixed tightly on the message sent by Ji Zhuozhou.

Sailboat: Sorry, I was busy just now. Be careful on the road, Lianlian. See you tomorrow.

Above this message were the few words Xiao Shuangyu had sent before leaving Huarui:

Xiao Shuangyu: I’ve finished work.

Blinking, Xiao Shuangyu slowly moved her hand to the drink, picked it up, and bit the straw, using the action to try and press down the corners of her rising smile.

I must order this again next time, she thought.

Even though she hadn’t even noticed what the drink tasted like.

Over an hour later, at 6:00 PM, it was Huarui’s clock-out time.

Gradually, people began to leave the Huarui building one after another, heading toward their respective homes.

Xiao Shuangyu had started watching early, counting from the first person to leave, wondering which number Ji Zhuozhou would be.

Generally, Ji Zhuozhou would be somewhere between the 180th and 208th person. She would then walk alone toward the nearby underground parking lot, drive her car out, and gradually disappear from view.

166, 167…

Almost there.

Xiao Shuangyu unconsciously sat up a bit straighter, preparing for the last “meeting” with Ji Zhuozhou of the day.

168, 169… eh?

It was Ji Zhuozhou.

The 169th person—eleven people earlier than her usual earliest time.

That elegant long dress draped over Ji Zhuozhou’s lithe, slender body. As she walked, her beautiful lower legs were intermittently visible, and the hem of her skirt swayed in ripples.

Every step seemed to land right on Xiao Shuangyu’s heart.

Xiao Shuangyu stared blankly at Ji Zhuozhou’s profile until that face—slightly blurred by the distance—thoroughly disappeared amidst various obstacles. Only then did the heart that had been stepped on seem to finally resume its beating.

Shortly after, the familiar car drove out, slowly merging into the traffic and disappearing. Xiao Shuangyu also stood up and headed for the subway.

Rush hour: the subway was crowded.

After swaying and squeezing for over an hour, Xiao Shuangyu appeared outside an upscale residential complex.

She didn’t go near. She walked along the outer wall of the complex to a certain spot where a building hidden behind became clear.

As if in response to her gaze, a light suddenly turned on inside a window that looked quite dark.

The light was soft and bright. Even though Xiao Mingyi was dead, that place was still their home.

How envious.

Beneath her excessively dark irises, the dark circles under her eyes could no longer be hidden.

After a long time, Xiao Shuangyu lowered her gaze, turned around, and began her journey back.

In the empty, cold living room, Ji Zhuozhou, who was closing the windows, suddenly received a message.

Xiao Shuangyu (Smiley Face): See you tomorrow.