One Year After Her Sister-In-Law Was Widowed - Chapter 9

Today is Wednesday, July 8th.

Xiao Shuangyu sat in the car, her fingers restlessly scrolling through her WeChat chat interface.

In the small group chat for the band “Rain Shower,” the other two members, Nie Siyu and A-Nan, didn’t have much of an issue with her sudden “business.” They told her to just go ahead and do what she needed to do; they had everything covered.

Then the topic veered off course, with the other two chatting aimlessly about food, drinks, and melodies.

The red notification circles lit up the chat interface from time to time. Even if Xiao Shuangyu cleared them quickly, they would reappear before long.

In contrast, the tiny sailboat pinned to the very top never lit up again.

Clearing the red circles from the group chat once more and watching the constant stream of messages, Xiao Shuangyu hit the back button and clicked into Ji Zhuozhou’s chat box at the top.

She had likewise declined Ji Zhuozhou’s invitation.

Beneath her dry message, “I have something to do later,” Ji Zhuozhou had only replied with a “fine,” without mentioning a next time.

Blinking her eyes, Xiao Shuangyu’s already slumped back sank even further.

The car stopped.

Xiao Shuangyu looked up and saw that the vehicle had arrived in front of the Lirong Hotel, where the banquet was being held tonight. She put away her phone, got out of the car, and moved toward another vehicle parked in front.

The car door opened from the inside, and her mother, Su Yuran, stepped out. She turned to sweep a glance over her, frowning without concealment, and tilted her chin to signal for her to stand aside properly.

Xiao Shuangyu’s sluggish brain finally began to function. Realizing the cues, she straightened her back and stood to the side, looking down at the unfamiliar cocktail dress she was wearing and remaining silent.

The dresses were chosen by the mothers; it was the style Xiao Mingyi used to wear.

As soon as she had returned home, her mother Su Yuran had called her into the study and told her she only needed to be obedient, maintain proper etiquette, do nothing extra, and avoid upsetting the mothers.

Yet, having just arrived, she had already violated every rule.

The unconscious slump of her back lacked poise, and the position she stood in was always the one reserved for Xiao Mingyi, who sat in the same car as the mothers. All of this displeased them.

Mother Su Yuran helped Mother Xiao Jingning out of the car, then looked at Shuangyu and scolded her in a low, sharp voice: “Head up. Look at yourself.”

Mother Xiao Jingning didn’t give her so much as a glance, but her tone was full of grievance, nearly bordering on a sob. “Look at what? She doesn’t look like her at all.”

Mother Su Yuran was somewhat impatient and let out a heavy sigh, though she didn’t disagree.

Xiao Shuangyu also knew clearly that she wasn’t even a substitute. She raised her head slightly and followed behind the two as they walked inside, silent like a small stone with zero presence.

Yet the mothers intended to throw this small stone into the lake at the center of the banquet, hoping to stir up beautiful ripples.

After standing in a corner with the mothers to offer birthday greetings to the host, the true activities of the banquet began.

The social interactions that Xiao Mingyi used to attract so effortlessly now fell upon Xiao Shuangyu, becoming the clumsiest performance of ingratiation.

She couldn’t fit in with her peers, and she had nothing to say to her elders. Polite praise and slightly awkward glances fell upon her repeatedly, deepening her discomfort with every passing moment.

So miserable. I want to throw up.

She set down the wine glass from which she had only taken a few sips. Before she could speak up about wanting to go to the restroom, she was noticed by Mother Su Yuran, who firmly grabbed her wrist to continue introducing her to the Beta in front of them.

“This is Young Manager Yu from Kova Optoelectronics. At such a young age, she is already on par with Director Yu back in the day—courageous and bold. Kova looks better every year, and Young Manager Yu has certainly contributed much. You are a dull one; don’t just think about attending classes every day. You should learn from and consult young talents like Young Manager Yu.”

Young Manager Yu smiled. “Not at all. I am merely exploring things alongside my mother. Besides, I see that Sister Shuangyu is steady and composed; I imagine Director Su and Director Xiao have raised her to be quite exceptional.”

Xiao Shuangyu’s face grew increasingly pale, to the point where her bright lipstick could hardly hide the deathly pallor of her lips.

Hearing such titles and praise, she felt she could no longer endure it. She carefully tugged at Mother Su Yuran. “Mommy, I want to step away for a moment…”

Suddenly, Su Yuran glared over.

Even Mother Xiao Jingning, who had been smiling at Young Manager Yu and ignoring her, looked over with a slight frown.

Young Manager Yu didn’t notice the tension, but she clearly saw that Xiao Shuangyu looked unwell. “Is Sister Shuangyu feeling uncomfortable? Why don’t you go rest for a bit? Director Su, Director Xiao, shall we take a walk elsewhere?”

Su Yuran immediately let go of Xiao Shuangyu. “Don’t go running off on your own.”

She then took Xiao Jingning’s arm and followed, smiling flatteringly. “Young Manager Yu, my daughter is just so slow to catch on. Why don’t you two exchange contact info later and get closer…”

Xiao Shuangyu didn’t hear a word of it. She turned and walked straight toward the restroom, barely able to maintain her balance.

Soon, the sound of retching echoed within the restroom.

After flushing, Xiao Shuangyu dragged her feet to the sink and cupped cold water to rinse her mouth.

She looked up; her reflection in the mirror looked like a water ghost that had just crawled ashore—her face and body covered in cold sweat, weak and pale.

She didn’t want to go out.

She didn’t want to hear those voices anymore.

It hurt so much.

Her stalling and lingering couldn’t last long; Mother Xiao Jingning walked in from outside.

Glancing at her indifferently, Mother Xiao Jingning walked to the sink next to her and turned on the faucet.

The sound of flowing water broke the silence. Xiao Shuangyu spoke in a small voice, “Mother, I’ll go out first…”

Mother Xiao Jingning didn’t look at her, keeping her eyes down as she carefully washed her hands. “Why can’t you even do these things right?”

Xiao Shuangyu froze for a second. Her feet, which had been about to shift away, stopped in place. She unconsciously lowered her head, her dark eyes staring at the bright, dazzling floor.

Her silhouette gradually became distorted, like a sticky, damp shadow, yet there was no darkness on the floor for her to melt into and hide.

The lights in the restroom were too bright, like an invisible cage trapping her where she stood.

Mother Xiao Jingning’s voice continued, cold as ice. “You and Mingyi both came from my womb. Why was Mingyi so excellent, while you can’t do anything right?”

“What right do you have to call me mother? What right do you have to hide here?”

“If only it were Mingyi… if only Mingyi were still here…”

“Why did I even give birth to you?”

Mother Xiao Jingning walked out of the restroom, leaving behind only that light whisper.

Xiao Shuangyu blinked slowly, as if she hadn’t heard anything. Only because the restroom became empty again did she feel a sense of ease once more.

Xiao Shuangyu couldn’t sleep.

When she closed her eyes, every face she had been introduced to by the mothers seemed to turn into Xiao Mingyi appearing in her head, annoying her.

So she got up and fished out the bottle she had hidden in her room, drinking more than half of it. Clearly, she should have fallen into a deep, drunken stupor immediately, yet she couldn’t sleep.

Her vision was a blur; she could see nothing clearly, yet for some reason, she stubbornly opened her phone, clicked into Ji Zhuozhou’s WeChat, and scrolled back and forth.

She even knew her eyes were playing tricks on her, so she was exceptionally careful when clicking Ji Zhuozhou’s profile picture, fearing she might accidentally double-tap and send a “nudge.”

This caution was somewhat effective, but not entirely.

When she finally couldn’t resist the urge to sleep and backed out of Ji Zhuozhou’s Moments, a red heart was quietly lit.

Xiao Shuangyu noticed nothing. She only knew that when she woke up the next day, her head felt like it was going to explode.

Beyond the hangover, her spirit wasn’t great either; she felt limp and lacked strength.

But Xiao Shuangyu knew clearly that starting today, Ji Zhuozhou wouldn’t be as busy anymore, and going to work on time meant she could see her.

Xiao Shuangyu hurriedly left the villa and appeared at the Huarui building right on time.

After changing into her security uniform, Wang Ran glanced at her several times along the way. Noticing she wasn’t being acknowledged, Wang Ran spoke up, “Lianlian, are you okay?”

Xiao Shuangyu turned her head and shook it unconvincingly. “I’m fine.”

Wang Ran wasn’t convinced and reached out to feel her forehead. It was cool, and she didn’t have a fever.

Wang Ran felt a bit more at ease, but not completely. “Stayed up late last night, didn’t you? You can’t just toss your body around because you’re young.”

Xiao Shuangyu nodded, though she looked as if she hadn’t listened at all.

This wasn’t intentional; after all, Xiao Shuangyu herself didn’t even know when she had fallen asleep, so she had no idea if she had stayed up late or not.

Forcing herself to stay alert, it wasn’t long before she indeed saw Ji Zhuozhou, who had finally returned to normal working hours.

The fresh, moist scent of mist and rain wafted towards her, and eyes as dark green as a distant mountain forest entered her sight.

Just seeing those beautiful lips offer her a soft “Good morning,” Xiao Shuangyu’s aching head felt as if a clear spring had flowed through it. Suddenly, it didn’t seem to hurt anymore.

Of course, this was entirely subjective. Objectively speaking, her complexion was still so poor she hardly looked like a living person.

Ji Zhuozhou was also startled upon seeing her. The doubt she had held in her heart, intending to ask about if she had found a chance, sank into her stomach. After a moment, the words that came out were completely different: “Did the things you had to do yesterday keep you up very late?”

Xiao Shuangyu lowered her head, blinking slowly, her voice muffled. “A little.”

Ji Zhuozhou followed her gaze, looking at the small mole on the tip of her nose. On that overly pale face, that tiny black dot was exceptionally distinct, firmly catching her eye.

“Maybe you should take the day off and go back to rest.”

Xiao Shuangyu shook her head and didn’t speak.

Ji Zhuozhou looked at Wang Ran. Wang Ran sighed. “I can’t persuade her either. We’ll just have her stay here for now and see how it goes.”

Ji Zhuozhou didn’t press further, only warning Xiao Shuangyu not to force herself. Seeing Xiao Shuangyu nod with her head down, she said goodbye to the two and went upstairs.

In the elevator, Ji Zhuozhou was squeezed into a corner by the crowd. She took out her phone, silently unlocked it, then silently turned the screen off.

Early yesterday morning, her phone screen suddenly lit up, and this morning, she had seen that like notification.

It was from Xiao Shuangyu. The content liked was a perfume trade fair hosted by Huarui.

It wasn’t even the latest content in her Moments; it was something from over a year ago. Yet, strangely, Xiao Shuangyu had suddenly liked it at one in the morning.

On the repeatedly unlocked phone screen, the display stayed on the new profile picture added to the list of likes under that Moment.

And on the previous post, a portion of which was visible on the screen, there were faintly… two marriage licenses placed together.

A conspicuous, bright red.

Before the lunch break ended, Xiao Shuangyu sent a message saying she had just been forced by Wang Ran to sleep for a bit and now felt very energetic.

Ji Zhuozhou glanced at the message. She didn’t seek to verify the truth of those words, only replying with a “Good.”

Whether it was their work shifts or break times, the two were not in sync. When the message was replied to, Ji Zhuozhou had just finished eating and was leaving the staff cafeteria, sitting in the upward-bound elevator.

Several colleagues were discussing the weather, guessing whether the white clouds gathering outside were a sign of rain.

The temperature has been rising continuously lately without a drop of rain. Almost everyone was hoping for a heavy downpour to wash away the days of scorching heat.

The sun didn’t suit Xiao Shuangyu. She had a face that looked as if it would melt if it got too close to the sunlight—even though her body temperature was lower than average and she actually needed some warmth.

Amid the intermittent discussions in the elevator, Ji Zhuozhou thought this thought unintentionally.

In the afternoon, during a gap in her work, Ji Zhuozhou looked up and noticed the clouds outside had turned a heavy, gloomy leaden gray. It looked like it would pour at any moment.

Sure enough, not long after, a torrential rain came crashing down. The sheets of rain washed against the glass windows, sounding as if they wanted to shatter the glass and drown everything safely hidden indoors.

Some colleagues ran excitedly to watch the rain. The assistant beside Ji Zhuozhou also couldn’t help but glance outside, her hidden excitement poorly masked by her efforts to appear professional.

Ji Zhuozhou gathered the documents and handed them to her. “Take these to the floor above.”

The assistant stood up immediately, took the documents, and ran off quickly.

Ji Zhuozhou picked up her water cup and was about to drink, but seeing there wasn’t much water left, she stood up to go to the pantry outside to get more.

The pantry also served as a break room, and a few people were scattered about, resting and watching the rain.

Ji Zhuozhou had just filled her cup and was about to leave when she heard an employee exclaim in surprise, “Who is that? Going out at a time like this without an umbrella? They must be crazy.”

For no reason, Ji Zhuozhou looked down through the nearby window. She saw a small, pitch-black figure walk out of the Huarui building and appear in the terrifying curtain of rain. Despite how the rain hammered down, the figure walked on at its own slow pace.

It was Xiao Shuangyu.

Clack.

Ji Zhuozhou dropped the water cup in her hand and turned around abruptly.