One Year After Her Sister-In-Law Was Widowed - Chapter 66

Xiao Shuangyu met Ji Zhuozhou again in the small house far from the filming location.

The process was almost identical to the last time, except this time, what was thrust into Xiao Shuangyu’s hands was a bouquet of champagne-gold roses.

Just as memories of that perfume bottle began to surface in Xiao Shuangyu’s mind, she was pulled to a table by Ji Zhuozhou. Her train of thought was derailed by a steaming pot of samgyetang (ginseng chicken soup).

Ji Zhuozhou pressed her into a chair by the table and moved to the outer side, blocking her escape route. She watched Xiao Shuangyu while ladling soup for her.

“I heard the canteen here might not be great. Your creative work is so taxing; LianLian needs to eat more to keep your spirits up for the competition.”

Xiao Shuangyu tried to stand up, but Ji Zhuozhou pressed her back down with one hand while holding the soup bowl out to her with the other.

Xiao Shuangyu didn’t take it. She couldn’t suppress her confusion any longer. “How can you still come here? This… this isn’t right.”

Ji Zhuozhou paused slightly. “Does LianLian not want to see me?”

Xiao Shuangyu froze, her gaze dropping.

Ji Zhuozhou also lowered her eyes. She scooped up a spoonful of soup, lightly scraped it against the rim of the bowl, and brought the spoon to Xiao Shuangyu’s lips. She said, “I missed LianLian very much.”

Xiao Shuangyu felt incredibly uneasy. She leaned back a few inches, refusing the spoon Ji Zhuozhou offered. “But I’m in a competition.”

“I shouldn’t be meeting anyone unrelated to the competition. Even if the director agrees, it’s not right. These are the rules she set herself, and I should follow them. Everyone here should follow them.”

“This show is very important to the Array Band. I don’t want it to be tainted by any ‘cheating’ on my part.”

Ji Zhuozhou’s speaking pace quickened instantly. “I’m not helping LianLian cheat.”

It was true she wanted to see Xiao Shuangyu, and it was true she had come to see her, but she never intended to interfere with the process.

This show was an opportunity—an opportunity for Xiao Shuangyu to prove herself. To prove she wasn’t useless, that she didn’t need to be compared to Xiao Mingyi, and to prove that she was simply herself.

Ji Zhuozhou believed Xiao Shuangyu could do it, so she couldn’t allow her own presence to make that victory any less pure.

She just wanted to see her.

Xiao Shuangyu’s dark pupils shifted to the side, her voice muffled. “The mere fact that you’re meeting me already is.”

“Besides, even if you did something, I wouldn’t know. Just like before.”

Just like the way her complaints were suddenly resolved and her job transfer went smoothly; she never knew that behind it all was a hidden General Manager named Ji Zhuozhou.

Ji Zhuozhou immediately understood what she was referring to and rushed to deny it. “LianLian, I didn’t do anything. I only inquired about the circumstances and the progress. I didn’t interfere with any decisions.”

“Your complaints would have eventually been cleared after investigation, and your transfer would have been approved. It was Lian-Lian’s own excellence that determined the outcome.”

Excellence.

Ji Zhuozhou called her excellent.

For the first time, Xiao Shuangyu, who had never felt pressured by Ji Zhuozhou’s praise, felt her heart sink. A knot of frustration tightened in her chest, making it feel bloated and heavy.

She knew that it was Ji Zhuozhou’s “inquiry” that accelerated the process. It was Ji Zhuozhou’s status that gave Manager Li a signal—a signal that rippled through to HR and ultimately manifested as an affirmation of her work.

It wasn’t that she was excellent; it was that the Ji Zhuozhou she didn’t know back then was powerful.

But even now, she still didn’t truly know her.

Vicious, viscous tentacles seemed to sprout from her body, only to wither and drop away in the scent of the rain and mist. They fell all around her, wrapping her in a pitch-black cocoon.

“If I hadn’t seen it myself, were you… were you planning to tell me nothing at all?”

“Your blind dates, your identity, your thoughts.”

Xiao Shuangyu’s dark, sanpaku eyes lifted slightly to meet Ji Zhuozhou’s gaze. “Why?”

Her voice was raspy. “Why do you come looking for me if you don’t like me, don’t plan to date me, and don’t want to have a relationship with me?”

In the center of her vision, Ji Zhuozhou set down the soup bowl. “How could LianLian… feel that way?”

Xiao Shuangyu looked away.

It wasn’t that she felt that way; it was that Ji Zhuozhou made her feel that way.

It seemed she wouldn’t be getting an answer.

She stood up, walking around Ji Zhuozhou from the other side. “I’m leaving. Don’t come again.”

Ji Zhuozhou caught up and grabbed her. “Lian-Lian, don’t go. Listen to me.”

Xiao Shuangyu didn’t stop; she simply pulled her wrist out of Ji Zhuozhou’s grip.

She… didn’t want to listen anymore.

Unable to stop her with words, Ji Zhuozhou quickly reached out and wrapped her arms around Xiao Shuangyu’s waist from behind.

That voice, usually soft and light, carried an irrepressible urgency. “It’s not that I wouldn’t tell LianLian before, it’s that I couldn’t.”

Ji Zhuozhou leaned tightly against her shoulder blades. “After my grandmother passed away, she left her shares to me.”

The power struggles within Huarui had never ceased. The shift in those shares was enough to destroy the balance Huarui had maintained. No one wanted Ji Zhuozhou to inherit those shares or show up at a board meeting.

They forced Ji Zhuozhou to return to the country to serve as a replaceable General Manager at a branch office, keeping her under constant surveillance.

To put them at ease, Ji Zhuozhou didn’t officially take office. She submitted a normal resume, became an ordinary assistant perfumer, and worked quietly at the Huarui branch.

The surveillance never vanished. So, when Xiao Mingyi appeared before her with such fervor, she chose marriage.

But only a month later, Xiao Mingyi died in a car accident, and nothing changed.

Ji Zhuozhou explained rapidly and roughly, omitting the part about the marriage itself. “I couldn’t tell anyone. I had to let them think I had no intention of going back.”

Xiao Shuangyu didn’t turn around.

She still didn’t understand. “Why… why listen to them?”

Behind her, Ji Zhuozhou lowered her gaze, her voice very quiet. “They controlled my mother.”

“She is ill. She doesn’t recognize people. I wasn’t allowed to take her away.”

Xiao Shuangyu froze. “And now?”

She heard Ji Zhuozhou say, “I’ve brought her back.”

Those people were arrogant enough to think they could use family ties to keep Ji Zhuozhou’s mother by their side, but they didn’t realize her mother had always wanted to return to her homeland.

Ji Zhuozhou knew. Ji Zhuozhou had planned this for a long time.

There were many things she couldn’t explain to Xiao Shuangyu—like how she had entered Huarui anonymously years ago, not to put anyone at ease, or how she had recently used one person after another through those blind dates.

Xiao Shuangyu’s shoulders were cold; a slight chill seeped through her clothes, making every breath feel like inhaling frost.

Ji Zhuozhou tightened her embrace around Xiao Shuangyu’s waist, trying to use her body heat to warm Xiao Shuangyu’s heart.

She said, “Before I successfully brought my mother back, I didn’t dare say anything. I’m sorry, LianLian. Please forgive me.”

In her arms, the rigid body softened slightly. She heard Xiao Shuangyu’s voice.

It was low, muffled, and slightly hoarse. “You… you’re not alone. That’s good.”

After saying it, Xiao Shuangyu felt something wasn’t right and immediately corrected herself. “Congratulations. You can finally be reunited.”

Ji Zhuozhou was overjoyed. “Then, LianLian…”

Xiao Shuangyu tilted her head, glancing at the Ji Zhuozhou behind her. “Let go of me.”

Xiao Shuangyu’s voice was not the voice of someone about to turn around and embrace her. It was decisive, unwavering.

Xiao Shuangyu had not forgiven her.

Ji Zhuozhou was stunned.

Xiao Shuangyu was simply… more lost than ever.

She knew now. She knew Ji Zhuozhou’s secrets and her reasons, but she felt more adrift.

Ji Zhuozhou had done everything alone, unnoticed and undetected—even by the person living with her.

Ji Zhuozhou hadn’t sought her help, hadn’t needed her to share the burden. And she, in truth, could have helped with nothing and done nothing.

The gap between her and Ji Zhuozhou was about far more than just status…

The confusion filled her head and heart. She failed to notice that Ji Zhuozhou hadn’t explained the blind dates or why she was looking for her specifically.

But she knew clearly that she had to leave.

The scent of the samgyetang had grown cold, failing to attract any more attention. Xiao Shuangyu said, “Spend more time with your mother.”

Xiao Shuangyu left.

She didn’t return to the dormitory but went back to the rehearsal room to perform final adjustments with A-Nan and Nie Siyu before tomorrow’s competition.

They stayed up late, though they weren’t the latest.

But they felt they had done their best and saw no need to waste more time; sufficient rest was also necessary to have better energy for the next day.

Especially since their team consisted of Xiao Shuangyu, who was always low-energy with dark circles, and Nie Siyu, who always looked like a withered corporate slave.

When she finally sank into her quilt after washing up, Xiao Shuangyu felt every pore in her body radiating exhaustion.

It didn’t all stem from the mental strain of preparing for the competition over the last few days. She knew a large part of it came from seeing Ji Zhuozhou tonight.

At some point, Ji Zhuozhou had slipped a small spray bottle into her pocket. She hadn’t taken it out.

But after tossing and turning for a long time, she carefully fished the clothes out, hid under the dark covers, and opened the cap.

As expected, it was the scent of roses—the scent of that champagne-gold bouquet.

Before the scent could pull her memories back to the warmth of Ji Zhuozhou’s embrace, Xiao Shuangyu quickly snapped the cap shut and kicked the clothes containing the bottle far away.

The next day, Saturday.

Before the first round of group battles, Xiao Shuangyu suddenly had a flash of inspiration. She proposed modifying the arrangement of several measures to the other two.

This idea came very late. Even if they could modify it in time, there wouldn’t be time to practice.

But they had a history of never abandoning a better idea just because it was late. They were long accustomed to performing, and this level of modification wouldn’t defeat them.

They walked onto the stage with the urgently modified song.

The lights here were brighter than in the bars. The judges sitting below were all very powerful and famous teachers. The pressure was much higher than their first performance a few days ago.

A-Nan and Nie Siyu couldn’t help but look back at Xiao Shuangyu after taking the stage. Xiao Shuangyu had worked hard these past few days, but she remained as somber as ever. Because they were on a show and she had been praised by different people several times, Xiao Shuangyu had actually become increasingly gloomy.

Now, she had to stand under the spotlight, fully exposed to so many people below, accepting their clear scrutiny and evaluation.

They couldn’t help but worry.

Xiao Shuangyu met their eyes. Her dark sanpaku eyes were no different than usual; one couldn’t tell if she was nervous or confident.

This look actually put the two at ease, and they turned back around.

But before Xiao Shuangyu could withdraw her gaze, she saw someone in the audience.

Sitting in the front row, directly facing her, was Ji Zhuozhou.

Those deep green eyes were looking straight at her, and a faint smile played on her lips in the center of Xiao Shuangyu’s vision.

Two different scents of roses seemed to intertwine at the tip of Xiao Shuangyu’s nose. Unconsciously, she dived into a brief trance.