Light rain turning to heavy rain
The sky outside the window was heavy and oppressive, with gray clouds hanging low like huge cotton balls soaked with moisture.
Wen Lingyi stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window in the director's office, her fingertips tapping unconsciously on the cold glass, forming no tune, rehearsing the prelude to a heavy rain.
In the field of vision, the city skyline was blurred by the brewing storm, and another heavy rain was about to pour down.
That little idiot Zhou Jianxing had come home soaked twice recently. He was in such a hurry to leave today that he even left his usual umbrella on the umbrella stand in the entrance hall.
Wen Lingyi's eyes fell on the latest version of the theme exhibition plan spread out on the desk - Wang Mingxuan hoped to take advantage of the success of "Desire Realm" and invite Lin Rui to hold a new exhibition.
This meant that she would soon be on a business trip to Lin Rui's new studio in City S for a three-day preliminary inspection.
The thought of the word "business trip" made her heart feel like it was being gently tugged by an invisible thread. She was actually a little unaccustomed to it.
She was used to coming home from get off work to the aroma of food wafting through the kitchen, preparing, eating, and clearing the dishes with Zhou Jianxing; she was used to sharing a movie or a few records in the audio-visual room after dinner, lazily whileing away the evenings; she was used to the toothbrushes and cups placed side by side in the bathroom, the pajamas and clothes mixed together in the closet, and the intimate entanglements that inevitably took place on that big bed every night...
Habit seeps in quietly like air, and only now do I realize its presence. Thinking about not seeing that figure for a few days, an indescribable sense of emptiness arises in a corner of my heart, like a room empty of furniture, where the echo of my heartbeat seems especially clear.
·
The big raindrops finally fell, hitting the glass windows rapidly, and soon became a dense sound of rushing.
When it was time to get off work, Wen Lingyi picked up the car keys, opened her umbrella, and walked straight to the underground garage.
The vehicle passed through the streets that were reflective from rain and stopped under a relatively hidden tree opposite Zhou Jianxing's company.
Through the rain-blurred car window and the misty curtain of rain, Wen Lingyi spotted Zhou Jianxing standing on the steps at the office building entrance. She seemed to have just finished work and was nodding goodbye to her colleagues as they emerged.
Wen Lingyi's eyes fell on the dry spare umbrella on the passenger seat, and her fingertips curled up. Should she get out of the car, cross the road, and escort Zhou Jianxing to the car with an umbrella?
The thought had barely occurred to me when it was crushed by the weight of reality. It was rush hour, and people were pouring out of the door of Schindler Maintenance.
And she, Wen Lingyi, is still the Director Wen with the title of "married woman". In what capacity should she go to pick up Zhou Jianxing?
Friends? Their social circles were clearly separated. Work partners? What kind of job required an employer to personally pick up an ordinary maintenance worker at the maintenance company's door after work? Any reasonable explanation seemed pale and powerless at this moment.
The risk of exposure is like cold raindrops, penetrating every pore.
She picked up her phone, the light from the screen illuminating her expressionless face, and typed a few short words with her fingertips:
"I have arrived."
·
Zhou Jianxing was standing on the steps, wondering whether to rush to the roadside in the rain to take a taxi or wait for the rain to stop. Her cell phone vibrated, prompting her to look down and check.
Then, she raised her head, her sight penetrating the thick rain curtain, and accurately captured the familiar white car silhouette at the edge of the green belt.
Without hesitation, she pulled up the collar of her coat and dove into the pouring rain. Her long legs stretched out, her steps fast and steady, the rain only leaving dark wet marks on her hair and shoulders for a short time.
She crossed the road in a few steps, opened the car door, and got in, feeling cool and moist.
"Huh..." Zhou Jianxing breathed lightly, and a few strands of hair on his forehead were wet by the rain, sticking to his smooth forehead.
Wen Lingyi didn't say anything. She took out a few tissues from the storage compartment, raised her hand, and naturally wiped the ends of her hair and the places on her chest that were wet by the sporadic rain.
The soft fibers of the paper towel absorbed the cool water stains. Wen Lingyi's voice was emotionless, still as gentle as usual: "How could you forget your umbrella when you went out? You're so irritable."
Zhou Jianxing's cheeks flushed slightly as he tasted the doting in his rebuke. He was too embarrassed to explain. Wen Lingyi stayed up too late last night. After getting up, she was busy watering the flowers and eating breakfast. Time slipped away like sand through her fingers, and she left in a hurry.
She turned sideways, leaning closer to Wen Lingyi, and couldn't help but press a cool, rain-soaked kiss to the corner of her lips. "Sister Wen, thank you for picking me up." Her voice was filled with heartache. "Next time... don't come all the way to pick me up. I can just take a taxi back myself to save you the trouble of taking a detour."
"Outside vehicles cannot enter the community without registration." Wen Lingyi stated the fact calmly, but her eyes were fixed on Zhou Jianxing's face which was so close to her.
It was wet, with water droplets on the eyelashes, and even the eyes were steaming with mist.
She reached out, grasped the slightly damp fabric on Zhou Jianxing's chest, and pulled her closer. Wen Lingyi closed her eyes and deepened the kiss.
The breath between their lips and teeth became hot and lingering, and the sound of rain outside was blocked by the car window. It was not until Zhou Jianxing pushed her away lightly with an unsteady breath that Wen Lingyi let go of her hand and started the car.
·
The lights in the supermarket are warm and bright, dispelling the gloom of the rainy day.
The two pushed the shopping cart and went through the shelves, picking out ingredients for dinner.
After buying groceries and returning to Lanyue Bay, Wen Lingyi naturally went into the kitchen to help.
Their so-called help consisted of standing by the sink, clumsily rinsing leafy greens or methodically peeling garlic cloves. Their movements exuded a pampered aloofness that was completely out of place in the hustle and bustle of the kitchen.
Zhou Jianxing was busy at the cooking counter, his eyes occasionally sweeping across the cold sintered stone countertop, and an unignorable feeling of awkwardness passed through his heart.
Since that day, she always felt that this place carried some kind of indescribable shame mark. She couldn't be sure whether Wen Lingyi was just having a spur-of-the-moment interest or some kind of malicious control game, but she didn't like the tension of being exposed under bright lights and leaning against a hard, cold surface.
On the dining table, stir-fried seasonal vegetables exude an enticing aroma.
Wen Lingyi picked up a piece of food with chopsticks, put it into her mouth, and chewed it slowly.
Zhou Jianxing sat opposite her, his hands unconsciously folded on the edge of the table, his eyes sparkling and looking at her with undisguised anticipation, like a student waiting for the teacher to evaluate his homework.
"Delicious." Wen Lingyi swallowed the food and gave a simple affirmation. As expected, as soon as the words fell, Zhou Jianxing's eyes instantly curved into crescents, and the brilliance in his eyes almost overflowed.
Looking at this smile of pure satisfaction, Wen Lingyi felt an inexplicable irritation rising in her heart.
This feeling came suddenly, like a shadow quietly covering me.
She remembered how Zhou Jianxing would wash her underwear and hang them in the bathroom after taking a shower every day. This kind of meticulous care naturally permeated her life.
Could it be that... Zhou Jianxing is subconsciously playing the role of a "good wife and mother"?
So, if they were to separate one day, would she still take care of others in this meticulous way, cooking for them and washing their underwear by hand?
This thought was like a tiny thorn, piercing Wen Lingyi's heart and bringing a sharp discomfort.
"You cook so deliciously," Wen Lingyi's voice rang out. Her tone didn't sound flat, but it faintly revealed the bitterness rising from the bottom of her heart. "You're also very good at taking care of people."
She paused, her eyes fell on Zhou Jianxing's face, and asked tentatively: "Master Zhou, you don't want to be a good wife and mother, do you?"
The last few words were so light, yet they made her feel breathless.
·
A good wife and a good mother? Zhou Jianxing frowned slightly and thought seriously.
This word was unfamiliar to her. From childhood to adulthood, she seemed to have never dreamed of such a role.
The wedding dresses were beautiful, and she had stopped outside the window and imagined how she would look wearing them, but strangely, there was only her in the picture, with no sign of the groom.
Maybe she just liked the gorgeous dress itself?
Zhou Jianxing certainly liked pretty skirts, but her job as a maintenance worker and her casual personality made her more accustomed to loose, comfortable clothing. Wearing a skirt always felt constricting, preventing her from striding freely or squatting to check equipment. It didn't suit her inherently carefree nature.
In her childhood, her friends in the yard loved playing house, pretending to be princes and princesses, husbands and wives. But she was never interested in this, preferring to sneak off to the seafood store, pick up the dead fish discarded by the owner, and carefully dismantle them with a knife from home.
The child did not understand what cruelty was. She was obsessed with dissecting crayfish, observing the internal structure of caterpillars, and studying the veins of dragonfly wings.
Rather than romantic, unreal stories, she is more fascinated by exploring the essence of things, disassembling, analyzing, and understanding the principles of their operation. In her eyes, those cold or tiny living things are sophisticated instruments that hide the secrets of the world.
But why did Wen Lingyi suddenly ask her this? Zhou Jianxing was a little confused.
"I just like cooking." She answered frankly, looking at Wen Lingyi with clear eyes, "I like... cooking for the people I like more." Usually at home, Zhou Shufen was always reluctant to let her cook. She didn't cook much, and would only show off her cooking skills when her parents were busy or when friends gathered.
But if it was Wen Lingyi, she would be willing to cook for her every day.
This rare "sweet talk" not only failed to soothe Wen Lingyi's irritability, but instead made the empty feeling in her heart even more obvious. An inexplicable feeling of emptiness gripped her.
Wen Lingyi took a few more bites of food and almost blurted out, "If you don't like me anymore, then I won't be able to eat the food you cook? What should I do then?" There was a sense of dependence and instability in her words that she herself was not aware of.
As soon as the words left her mouth, Wen Lingyi froze. As if startled by the sound of her own voice, she immediately realized that these words had crossed the line she had set for herself, revealing a certain weakness and attachment that should not exist.
She quickly lowered her eyelids and added in a casual tone, "It's just a joke, don't take it seriously." She tried to make light of her previous gaffe.
Zhou Jianxing opened his mouth, looked at Wen Lingyi's deliberately avoiding gaze, and finally said nothing. He just lowered his head silently and ate the rice in the bowl.
A subtle silence filled the air, leaving only the sound of rain outside the window.
·
After dinner, Wen Lingyi picked up a book in the study and tried to immerse herself in the text.
Zhou Jianxing sat in a corner, fiddling with the antique typewriter with great interest. She carefully cleaned the dust from the gaps between the keys and tried to press a few letters.
The old machinery made a dull and rhythmic "clicking" sound, which was particularly clear in the quiet room.
Wen Lingyi's eyes fell on the pages of the book, but the words seemed to have lost their meaning and could not form a coherent sentence. Her attention was always unconsciously drawn to the sounds in the corner.
The corner of her eye, as if it had its own will, depicted Zhou Jianxing's focused profile over and over again. She lowered her head slightly, her cervical vertebrae protruding, and her fingers nimbly explored the keyboard. The light cast a small shadow under her long eyelashes.
Whenever Zhou Jianxing seemed to raise his head or turn around, Wen Lingyi's gaze would fall back onto the page of the book quickly and silently like a frightened bird, as if it had never left.
Only she herself knew that the words on the pages of the book blurred into meaningless symbols in front of her eyes.
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