One Year After Her Sister-In-Law Was Widowed - Chapter 55

Xiao Shuangyu returned downstairs.

She didn’t know how she had made it back. Sitting at her workstation, facing strings of data that never lied, her mind was a complete blank.

After a long while, her phone gave a muffled “buzz.” Her dark eyes looked down; it was a message from Ji Zhuozhou.

Sailboat: Lianlian, are you free now? Can we meet in the stairwell?

Her dull, listless eyes stared at the screen for a long time before she finally seemed to regain some sense of feeling. She tapped the darkened screen and replied with a single word: “Okay.”

Xiao Shuangyu stood up, put her phone in her pocket, and walked outside.

The sound of gossip was still incessant. Aside from the initial shock, people had begun to voice their concerns.

If Ji Zhuozhou had always been the general manager of Huari’s domestic branch, it meant she had held that position for several years already.

Yet, this general manager had neither appeared nor managed affairs, remaining like a ghost for years. No one knew if this “new” official, after revealing her identity, would set “three fires” upon taking office, or where those fires would start burning.

The meddlers were worried, the bystanders laughed secretly, and those who felt it was none of their business remained indifferent.

And there was Xiao Shuangyu, walking step by step toward the very center of the incident.

Ji Zhuozhou was waiting for her at the landing of the eighth floor. Just like always, she took her hand, draped an arm around her neck, and leaned in close to her lips.

A breath as fragrant as orchids, mingled with the thick scent of rain and mist, drifted toward Xiao Shuangyu. Xiao Shuangyu turned her head to the side.

A soft, gentle voice spoke slowly, “Is Lianlian blaming me?”

Xiao Shuangyu froze.

Ji Zhuozhou’s voice continued, “Blaming me for not even telling Lianlian.”

Xiao Shuangyu shook her head. She looked back and asked, “Can Sister tell me… now?”

In the center of her vision, those crow-feather lashes trembled slightly and then flickered downward.

A soft touch fell upon the corner of her lips, but Xiao Shuangyu instinctively backed away to avoid it.

Her voice was incredibly dry. “It’s okay. Sister must… have her reasons.”

She still couldn’t be sure if the “little mouse” she heard mentioned on the rooftop was her. Even though her brain was ten thousand percent certain, a voice in the depths of her heart still said, “No, it’s not.”

But if it wasn’t her, then who was the “hidden beauty” Luo Wen had spoken of?

Her heart was filled with questions. She wanted to have a proper talk with Ji Zhuozhou.

Those deep green eyes suddenly flashed with a moment of gloom—it was so fast it seemed like a hallucination, yet Xiao Shuangyu captured it firmly.

She stared blankly at those deep green eyes and suddenly asked, “Is Sister still going on blind dates?”

Ji Zhuozhou lowered her eyelashes and did not answer.

A hint of metallic sweetness rose in her throat. Xiao Shuangyu asked again, “Am I not enough? Can I… not be Sister’s girlfriend?”

They had lived together for over three months. They had made love so many times, sometimes tenderly, sometimes fiercely. They had kissed again and again in deserted corners. Yet, they weren’t even girlfriends.

Ji Zhuozhou remained silent.

Xiao Shuangyu could almost no longer control her voice; the end of her sentence trembled noticeably. “Then… even if I’m not your girlfriend, can I stay with Sister? I’ll hide well, I’ll be very good, I won’t let anyone know…”

Ji Zhuozhou still didn’t answer, but she raised her head and interrupted her, “Lianlian, don’t say anymore.”

Xiao Shuangyu understood.

The back of her neck throbbed with such intense pain that she could barely stand.

She subconsciously reached out to touch the back of her neck; the swollen gland had already pushed the scent-blocking patch into a small bulge.

Her face was deathly pale; she was swaying on her feet.

Ji Zhuozhou finally noticed something was wrong. She also reached for the back of her neck. “Lianlian, what’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell?”

Xiao Shuangyu shook her head with difficulty.

She said, “I’m fine. I’m leaving first.”

Ji Zhuozhou pulled her back. “Lianlian, your rut period isn’t over yet. I can help you.”

Xiao Shuangyu felt as if she couldn’t breathe. Her heart hurt even more than her neck. She suddenly pinned Ji Zhuozhou against the corner of the wall, her fingers pressing against Ji Zhuozhou’s lower abdomen through her dress.

She gritted her teeth. “Like this… is this okay too?”

“Here… is this okay too?”

“Being discovered by Luo Wen… is that okay too?”

Ji Zhuozhou froze, suddenly letting go of her neck.

Xiao Shuangyu withdrew her hand and stepped back. “I’m sorry.”

She turned around and walked downstairs.

Returning to the sixth floor, Xiao Shuangyu asked Bian Ya for leave. However, after walking out of the Huari building, she didn’t know where to go.

The back of her neck hurt excessively; she could hardly keep her neck straight.

She didn’t know what to do, nor did she know how to face Ji Zhuozhou.

Ji Zhuozhou didn’t need her; she was likely even tired of her.

And just now, she had made Ji Zhuozhou dislike her.

The sunlight was so bright, yet a rotting heart only emits the stench of decay when exposed to the sun.

She hated herself like this—hated the self that knew nothing, hated the self that couldn’t be loved by Ji Zhuozhou.

She moved her feet, step by step, walking heavily toward the subway station.

She boarded the train, leaned against the barrier next to the seats, and closed her eyes.

The subway departed. The rumbling sound entered her ears, but it couldn’t stir her heartbeat in the slightest.

After some travel, she arrived at Fu’an Garden Cemetery.

When she stood before Xiao Mingyi’s grave, Xiao Shuangyu suddenly snapped back to her senses.

She didn’t know why she had come here, nor did she know how she had walked here.

Four months later, nothing seemed to have changed here.

The black-and-white photo of Xiao Mingyi on the tombstone still showed a bright and radiant smile. That face, seventy percent similar to her own, had a tiny black mole on the tip of the nose exactly like hers.

Xiao Shuangyu suddenly felt a surge of bitterness in her nose.

She couldn’t help but speak, her voice muffled.

“She doesn’t like you that much after all.”

Otherwise, how could she grow tired of her so quickly? Otherwise, how could she start going on blind dates so soon?

“Maybe she even thinks you’re a pestering cockroach.”

The same goes for those lovers; once one appears, it means there are already countless “cockroaches.”

“Xiao Mingyi, why does everyone like you, but when it’s my turn… it doesn’t work?”

Xiao Shuangyu slowly crouched down. In front of Xiao Mingyi’s grave, she curled herself into a ball, clutching the back of her neck and grimacing.

It hurt so much.

Should a rut period… be this painful?

Even her rotting heart felt numb.

It was clearly the fourth day, and she had already felt somewhat better on the second day.

She forced herself to take a suppressor from her bag and gave herself an injection. She took large gulps of air, yet still felt as if her chest was about to explode from the congestion.

She turned around and sat beside Xiao Mingyi’s tombstone, as if leaning against Xiao Mingyi.

When Xiao Mingyi was alive, they rarely communicated or were close.

Instead, only after Xiao Mingyi died could she lean against her so closely.

She didn’t speak.

After a long while, she said, “I don’t want to like her anymore.”

She said, “I want to leave.”

Xiao Shuangyu walked out of the cemetery.

The subway took her to the edge of the city, and a taxi took her across the city boundary.

She walked through unfamiliar streets, her phone in her pocket. She didn’t see the influx of new messages.

Night had already fallen.

Xiao Shuangyu found a budget hotel by the road and checked in.

The first thing she saw when she took out her phone was a message at the top of the notification bar, sent just now by Wan Qiyan.

Wan Qiyan: Reply to my message! If you don’t reply soon, I’m calling the police!!!

Xiao Shuangyu didn’t heed Wan Qiyan’s threat. She took her room card, entered the room, and turned on only one small light. In the dim glow, she opened the chat interface with Wan Qiyan.

She didn’t look at the messages above. Just as she was about to reply with an “Mhm,” before the message could even be sent, Wan Qiyan’s call came through.

Xiao Shuangyu answered the phone.

Wan Qiyan’s voice instantly exploded in her ear, “What were you trying to send? You were dawdling for so long and nothing came through.”

Xiao Shuangyu couldn’t help but fall silent. She had only typed an “Mhm”; the “typing” indicator on the other side probably only lit up for a brief second.

But she wasn’t paying attention to that. She said, “What is it?”

Her tone was calm, her voice slightly hoarse.

Wan Qiyan paused, but still put on a facade of feigned anger. “What do you mean ‘what is it’? Is it that hard to ask you out for a meal? I don’t care, whether you’re busy or not tomorrow, you have to give your time to me. I’m going to eat with you!”

Xiao Shuangyu rejected her. “I can’t.”

Wan Qiyan sounded like she was genuinely getting angry. “Ah! Why not!”

Xiao Shuangyu looked out the window. Even in a different city, the night sky was always the same.

She said, “I’m not in Nancheng anymore. I’m going to another city.”

Wan Qiyan was stunned. “Ah? A business trip? So sudden?”

Xiao Shuangyu retracted her gaze. “No…”

Wan Qiyan interrupted her without any patience, her speaking speed incredibly fast. “Then it’s a vacation! Give me the address, I’m going too. Take me to eat good food!”

Xiao Shuangyu choked, swallowing the words she was going to say next.

She had submitted her resignation to Bian Ya.

It was a sudden decision, an idea that arose alongside the thought of leaving.

Bian Ya asked if she was feeling unwell and said she could grant her a longer leave.

Xiao Shuangyu refused, but Bian Ya still approved the leave according to the company process, saying she would keep it confidential and told her to rest well before meeting at the office to talk.

Xiao Shuangyu didn’t plan on coming back, but she didn’t know where to go either.

She had never been out of the province, and had almost never visited the cities near Nancheng.

This time, she didn’t directly refuse Wan Qiyan. “I don’t know where I’m going yet.”

Hearing a glimmer of hope, Wan Qiyan said, “What’s there to not know? Tell me where you are, and I’ll come over and help you decide.”

Xiao Shuangyu still hesitated for a moment before sending her location to Wan Qiyan.

It was already too late, and it was a several-hour drive away. Wan Qiyan told her to be good and not run around, saying she would come over first thing tomorrow morning.

Xiao Shuangyu said OKAY.

Wan Qiyan hung up, saying she had to hurry and get some sleep.

Xiao Shuangyu put down her phone; she wasn’t sleepy at all.

She exited the chat with Wan Qiyan and saw the last message displayed on the pinned “Small Sailboat.”

It was a message from Ji Zhuozhou: Rest well.

Hardening her heart, she still didn’t tap to open it, burying herself into the uncomfortable blankets.

The back of her neck still hurt.

On the other side, Ji Zhuozhou hadn’t slept yet either.

Xiao Shuangyu hadn’t replied to any messages.

From “Wait for me in the parking lot,” “Lianlian, why did you take leave? Do you need to go to the hospital?”, all the way to the most recent “Lianlian, are you not home?” and “Rest well,” not a single one had been answered.

She thought Xiao Shuangyu might have returned to the villa in the suburbs, or perhaps she had fallen asleep early because she wasn’t feeling well, just like a few days ago.

Xiao Shuangyu wasn’t very happy today; she knew that.

But the situation hadn’t reached a stage where she could relax; she didn’t dare to be overconfident and trust anyone yet.

When everything was over, she would explain it properly to Xiao Shuangyu.

Suddenly, Ji Zhuozhou felt a tiny hole in the corner of a pillow.

The bedding was the set she had been using the day she left. Xiao Shuangyu had washed them and put them back on, without moving anything else in the room.

She thought of something and couldn’t help but let out a shallow smile.

How could a puppy leave tooth marks here?