Wen Mingyao entered the cafeteria and spotted Zhou Zhuo at a glance.
He was holding two enamel mugs, one of which was piled high with something soft and white that looked like steamed buns.
A man and a woman flanked him, walking toward a corner as if they were on very good terms.
Zhou Zhuo seemed not to have noticed Wen Mingyao.
He simply placed the mug containing the side dishes in the middle of the table, picked up a steamed bun, and began eating quietly.
Though he ate quickly, to others, he appeared unhurried and refined in a way that was hard to describe.
The comrade beside him, observing how out of place Zhou Zhuo looked, had just taken a big bite of his steamed bun when he noticed a tall figure approaching them.
He nudged Zhou Zhuo lightly with his elbow, tilting his chin in the direction of the newcomer, his voice slightly muffled.
“Brother Zhuo, look—is that female comrade coming over for you?”
Zhou Zhuo swallowed the last bite of his steamed bun unhurriedly, lifted his eyelids slightly, and gave him a faint glance without saying a word.
A female comrade?
Across from Lu Ming, Jiang Yao, who had been nibbling delicately at her steamed bun, froze at the mention of “female comrade.” The usually fragrant white steamed bun suddenly lost its appeal.
Sensing someone sitting down beside her, she stiffened for a moment.
After a brief silence, she forced a smile at the corners of her lips.
Turning her head, her gaze fell on Wen Mingyao’s lovely face, and her smile instantly stiffened.
Jiang Yao’s pupils contracted almost imperceptibly before she quickly looked at Zhou Zhuo and asked softly, “Brother Zhuo, is this your sister? She’s quite pretty.”
Then, as if noticing something, she added, “Looking closely, the two of you do resemble each other a bit. No wonder—you’re siblings.”
Resemble?
Resemble my foot!
That woman’s face looked like a temptress’s. Could she be Brother Zhuo’s nominal wife… that capitalist’s daughter?
At this thought, she lowered her gaze, a flicker of jealousy flashing swiftly in her eyes.
After hearing this, Lu Ming looked back and forth between Zhou Zhuo and Wen Mingyao.
He scratched his head in confusion—he couldn’t see any resemblance between the two.
Wen Mingyao picked up a steamed bun, took a small bite, and stared intently at Zhou Zhuo, as if wondering how he would respond.
Zhou Zhuo tugged lightly at the collar of his shirt, an indescribable feeling in his heart, and squeezed out two stiff words through gritted teeth, “She’s not!”
Hearing this, Wen Mingyao raised an eyebrow and suddenly laughed.
She had thought Zhou Zhuo wouldn’t answer.
But his response wasn’t exactly satisfying to her either.
Still, it was far better than some men who maintained a single image even after marriage.
Propping her chin on one hand, she tilted her head and looked at Jiang Yao with interest, the amusement in her eyes deepening.
“My surname is Wen, and his is Zhou. We don’t share a father or a mother!” Wen Mingyao frowned at Jiang Yao, feigning confusion, and watched as her face paled inch by inch before speaking unhurriedly.
“Miss, he and I are not siblings!”
Wen Mingyao tilted her head, her seemingly casual tone carrying a hint of coldness.
That’s right—she, Wen Mingyao, was a capitalist’s daughter, and that was true!
But that didn’t mean she was a naive fool who couldn’t tell right from wrong.
One year—that was the decision.
Unless Zhou Zhuo personally told her that he already had someone he liked.
Otherwise, based on just these few words…
How naive!
How boring!
Wen Mingyao slowly withdrew her gaze, straightened her posture, and continued eating.
Jiang Yao’s hand gripping the chopsticks tightened again and again.
She clenched her teeth tightly, desperately suppressing the anger that was about to burst from her chest, forcing a smile she thought was perfect at the corner of her lips.
“Sorry, I just thought you two looked a bit alike, so…”
As she spoke, her voice paused slightly. She bit her lip and looked toward Zhou Zhuo.
In contrast, Zhou Zhuo acted as if he hadn’t heard a thing, sitting quietly diagonally across from her without even lifting his eyelids.
Let alone looking back at her.
Seeing this, Jiang Yao glanced at the steamed bun in her hand and instantly felt deflated.
Back in the village, they could only eat white flour steamed buns during the New Year, and she loved them dearly.
To get Zhou Zhuo to notice her, she had even started eating the white flour steamed buns—which she originally thought were only delicious when eaten in big bites—in small, delicate bites, just like Ye Jingjing did.
Because of Zhou Zhuo, she had imitated Ye Jingjing in many ways.
From eating habits to speech and behavior, and even… the subtle expressions she often showed.
But Zhou Zhuo had never noticed her.
Even today was the first time he had spoken to her, and all he said was just two words, “We’re not,” just to deny that he and this woman were siblings.
Thinking of this, Jiang Yao’s dislike for Wen Mingyao grew even stronger.
Wen Mingyao watched as Jiang Yao’s expression shifted repeatedly and couldn’t help but smile inwardly.
Couldn’t handle it already?
But she had endured such coldness for over a year.
Wen Mingyao smiled, concealing the thoughts in her eyes, and casually wiped the corner of her mouth.
“Finished eating?” Zhou Zhuo looked up, giving her a deep glance, his tone indifferent as usual.
Wen Mingyao hummed in acknowledgment, but before she could say anything else, Zhou Zhuo took away her enamel mug and chopsticks.
Seeing him stand up and leave, Lu Ming quickly grabbed his own utensils and followed, sidling up to him with a grin. “Brother Zhuo, is that female comrade really not your sister?”
Zhou Zhuo paused slightly, his voice neither loud nor soft. “No.”
“Then, could you…” Lu Ming scratched his head. “Could you introduce us…”
Before he could finish, Zhou Zhuo coldly interrupted him:
“Are you that free?”
Zhou Zhuo’s expression was indifferent, and though his tone was as calm as usual, it carried an inexplicable chill.
Lu Ming seemed unfazed by Zhou Zhuo’s icy demeanor and chuckled. “I think that female comrade is really pretty. And since you know her, Brother Zhuo, maybe…”
Zhou Zhuo looked at him, his eyes suddenly turning cold. “She’s already married!”
Lu Ming’s eyes widened in shock, his voice stumbling. “Wh-what? Married?”
Immediately, his shoulders slumped in disappointment.
Seeing Lu Ming’s crestfallen expression after the shock, the coldness in Zhou Zhuo’s eyes unknowingly faded a little.
Jiang Yao glanced back at Zhou Zhuo, who was lining up to wash the utensils, then looked at Wen Mingyao, who remained seated.
Her tone was full of disbelief. “You’re letting Brother Zhuo wash them for you?”
Hearing this, Wen Mingyao couldn’t help but find it amusing.
She deliberately blinked at Jiang Yao, her sparkling eyes looking exceptionally beautiful.
Her voice was soft and gentle. “But Zhou Zhuo is willing to!”
“You… you!” Jiang Yao was instantly infuriated by these words.
Then, as if remembering something, she sneered at Wen Mingyao, “So what if you’re married? Brother Zhuo doesn’t like you anyway—he’s into the star performer of the cultural troupe!”