One Year After Her Sister-In-Law Was Widowed - Chapter 60
Xiao Shuangyu did not return to Nancheng.
With only a few days left before the show began filming, she rented a guesthouse with a courtyard in a small county near Haicheng, intending to spend her remaining days there. Once the time came, she would go directly to Haicheng to meet up with A-Nan and Nie Siyu before reporting to the production team.
Today was already Thursday. Since the other two still had jobs and needed to handle handovers before taking their long leave, they had headed back to the office yesterday without even resting. They were incredibly busy.
She couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty. After all, her trip to the hospital had delayed their return by a day, compressing their already hectic workload into an even shorter timeframe. Both of them told her not to worry, saying that if her health failed, they wouldn’t be able to win the competition anyway—they were only happy when she was well.
A sense of warmth rose in Xiao Shuangyu’s heart. When she woke up and smelled the scent of late-blooming osmanthus on the street, her mood brightened further.
It was late October. Most of the flowers in the courtyard had passed their blooming period, but the plants still looked lush. After washing up, Xiao Shuangyu left the house, passing through the verdant greenery as she strolled outside. She hadn’t brought her phone and didn’t know the time; she simply planned to wander around the neighborhood and find something to eat.
Initially, she hadn’t planned on leaving Yicheng, let alone coming to a place so close to Nancheng. It was A-Nan and Nie Siyu who convinced her to change her mind. The altitude in Yicheng was indeed high and the distance far; they didn’t feel comfortable leaving her there alone given the current state of her glands. Haicheng, on the other hand, wasn’t far from Nancheng, had a similar climate, and since the show was starting soon, staying nearby was a good way to prepare and avoid exhaustion later.
It sounded reasonable. Since Xiao Shuangyu had chosen to participate in the program, she intended to take it seriously, so she ultimately chose to come here.
The weather was a bit overcast, and the occasional breeze carried a chill. Walking down the street, she could clearly see the ginkgo trees turning golden and the maple leaves becoming a fiery red. She felt good. Perhaps she should have left Nancheng long ago to see other cities and unfamiliar streetscapes.
Hmm? Caught someone’s eye.
Xiao Shuangyu retracted her dark gaze to avoid disturbing the peace of the passersby and continued forward.
Hmm? Eye contact again.
Why was it happening so frequently?
After walking down the street, Xiao Shuangyu suddenly realized it wasn’t that she was frequently making eye contact, but rather that people were already looking at her. Even after turning a corner, people would occasionally stare, sometimes resulting in eye contact. It hadn’t been like this yesterday.
Before leaving Yicheng, the gauze on her neck had been removed, leaving only a small patch over the gland on the back of her neck. Covered by her hair and clothes, it shouldn’t have been noticeable. Xiao Shuangyu touched her face. Was it because of her looks?
She saw a shop on the roadside with quite a few customers and walked in. While she was hesitating over the menu, the enthusiastic owner suddenly smiled and asked, “You are—uh, you’re here for tourism, right?”
Xiao Shuangyu missed the first part of the owner’s sentence but realized the situation when she heard the second half. However, this place was near Haicheng, and even though it was a small county, there were plenty of tourists. It shouldn’t be so novel to see a new face.
That meant she must have very obvious “tourist” traits. Xiao Shuangyu used her sanpaku eyes to look herself over. Before she could notice anything, the owner’s smile stiffened slightly, and he instinctively took a half-step back.
Ah, it was still because of her appearance.
Since she was there, Xiao Shuangyu asked the owner for recommendations for nearby attractions. The owner mentioned a few places within walking distance, which she noted down.
After eating, she followed her memory to those spots. The sun eventually came out, its rays piercing through the clouds to illuminate the street corners and buildings. Even the pedestrians seemed to become livelier. Glimpses of people’s gazes still fell on her occasionally, all of which Xiao Shuangyu ignored.
From time to time, people on shared bikes or electric scooters passed by her, looking simple and relaxed. Xiao Shuangyu glanced at the neatly parked bicycles by the road and then looked away. Forget the fact that she didn’t have her phone to scan the QR code; she didn’t even know how to ride one. However, she wasn’t in a hurry to get anywhere.
She walked and stopped, wandering from nine in the morning until two or three in the afternoon before slowly heading back. She heard there was a good night market on the other side of her guesthouse; should she go check it out later? Maybe she’d have dinner there.
Ah, so leisurely.
Just as she neared her residence, she passed a small stall. A stall selling hamsters.
With just one glance, she somehow made eye contact with a pair of dark, beady eyes. It was a golden-furred little hamster, looking round and fluffy, its body clean as if it carried the scent of sunshine.
Xiao Shuangyu looked away. For some reason, she thought that the one Ji Zhuozhou mentioned probably wasn’t this kind. Suddenly, she didn’t feel like wandering anymore.
The sky turned gloomy. Xiao Shuangyu turned into a small alley.
A car suddenly screeched to a halt on the road behind her, making a harsh, grating sound. Xiao Shuangyu kept her head down, having no desire to turn around. The hamster stall was not far behind her, and her mind was filled with that little golden hamster.
“Lianlian—”
A call suddenly came from behind, causing Xiao Shuangyu to pause.
The car door sound was soft, but the footsteps were heavy. The atmosphere of rain and mist grew denser. A series of hurried steps followed, “Lianlian!”
Xiao Shuangyu didn’t turn around. She turned a corner, continuing to take a shortcut. However, the person behind her circled around to the front, their voice filled with clear joy, “Lianlian.”
Xiao Shuangyu raised her head.
A gentle and moving face appeared before her—deep green eyes, ruby-red lips. Everything was exactly as it was in her memory, except for the dark circles under the eyes.
It was Ji Zhuozhou. It really was Ji Zhuozhou. It wasn’t a hallucination.
Xiao Shuangyu blinked, feeling only stunned. No emotions surfaced. “Why are you here?”
She didn’t call her “Sister.”
Ji Zhuozhou noticed. She froze for a moment, then curved her lips. “I just happened to be passing by and thought it looked like you.”
Even though ten minutes ago, Ji Zhuozhou had been knocking on the door of the guesthouse. Realizing she wasn’t there, she had come out to search in a panic. The moment she caught a glimpse of Xiao Shuangyu’s back in her peripheral vision, she had slammed on the brakes. If it weren’t for the fact that she was driving slowly for fear of missing her, there might have been more than just a noise.
Ji Zhuozhou didn’t tell the truth. She didn’t see a hint of brightness in Xiao Shuangyu’s eyes—the kind of light that naturally appeared when seeing her. Feeling that something was wrong, she kept her smile and pretended to be relaxed. “Lianlian, why did you come here? Is your rut over? You haven’t replied to my messages or answered my calls. I was so worried.”
Xiao Shuangyu didn’t speak. She had seen most of Ji Zhuozhou’s messages and calls. Even though she didn’t use her phone much these days, she would turn it on daily to send updates to Wan Qiyan, and now she did the same for A-Nan and Nie Siyu. Consequently, it was hard to miss Ji Zhuozhou’s notifications.
But she had never tapped on them. The number in the notification bubble grew day by day, as did the number of missed calls, and the days since she left Ji Zhuozhou. She felt sad, but she didn’t regret it.
She said, “It’s over. I’m fine.”
An invisible hand gripped Ji Zhuozhou’s heart. The unease in her soul grew stronger, making her tone even gentler. “That’s for the best. Let’s go home. You haven’t been home for so many days; the house has become so cold.”
As she spoke, Ji Zhuozhou reached out to take her hand. Xiao Shuangyu avoided it. “No.”
Ji Zhuozhou’s hand stiffened, but she didn’t give up, still reaching out as Xiao Shuangyu dodged. “Lianlian, is there something wrong? Maybe we can stay here for a few days before going back. Where are you staying? Why don’t you come stay with me?”
Ji Zhuozhou was trying to get her to stay; she could hear it. She thought she wouldn’t be able to resist wavering, but she didn’t. Bitterness began to well up in her heart, so bitter she could hardly open her mouth. Her throat tasted of it too. She turned away, avoiding Ji Zhuozhou’s gaze. “No need. I’ve resigned from Huarui too. I won’t be going back.”
She said, “We’re over.”
It was easier to say than she had imagined. The moment the words were spoken, her heart felt lighter. Xiao Shuangyu remembered something else and couldn’t help but curl her lips in a self-mocking, dark smile. “Actually, that’s not right. We never even started.”
She turned her head to look into Ji Zhuozhou’s eyes—those beautiful, incomparable green eyes. Her expression was calm, yet cold. “Go back. Be careful on the road.”
Ji Zhuozhou stared at her blankly, the depths of her dark green eyes trembling. After a moment, as Xiao Shuangyu turned to leave, Ji Zhuozhou hurried to catch up. “I don’t agree.”
“I never received your resignation process. Even if I did, I wouldn’t agree. Huarui won’t let go of any outstanding employee, and I won’t let go of you.”
Employee… huh.
Xiao Shuangyu was silent for a moment. She lifted her eyelids, revealing her excessively dark eyes. “The process… Sister Bian Ya probably hasn’t approved it yet. I’ll talk to her again and ask her to hurry up.”
Ji Zhuozhou was firm. “I won’t agree.”
Xiao Shuangyu said nothing, just looking at her. Both of them knew well that a resignation wasn’t something that could be stopped just because someone disagreed, especially for an insignificant, ordinary employee. Resignation was always a notification, not an application. Even if it was delayed, Xiao Shuangyu would leave Huarui after thirty working days.
Xiao Shuangyu turned around. “I’m leaving first. You… get some rest.”
Ji Zhuozhou panicked for some reason and recklessly released her pheromones. She softened her voice, pleading weakly and helplessly, “Lianlian, I don’t feel well. Help me.”
The sweet, elegant scent of freesia and the distant, gentle fragrance of white tea instantly filled the air, as if… signaling an Omega’s heat. It was extremely dangerous to leave an Omega in heat alone in such a deserted place releasing pheromone. No matter what, Xiao Shuangyu couldn’t just ignore it. Especially since she indeed saw the dark circles under Ji Zhuozhou’s eyes.
Xiao Shuangyu stopped. She turned back, pulled an isolation patch from her pocket, and handed it over. “I’ll take you to the hospital.”
But just as she approached, Ji Zhuozhou suddenly grabbed her neck, forcefully hugging her and pressing her against the wall. “I’m not going to the hospital.”
Their bodies were flush against each other. She tilted her head back, her lips brushing intimately against Xiao Shuangyu’s chin as she murmured, “Kiss me.”
Ji Zhuozhou’s voice was very low, filled with deliberate temptation. She said, “Do it with me.”
The scent of the pheromones was thick and sweet, like a lethal honeyed wine. Xiao Shuangyu felt her whole body stiffen, the gland on the back of her neck throbbing faintly.