Chapter Eleven: Not an Accident

Du Zhiye was in a foul mood, and so she naturally drank more. It didn't take long for her to finish an entire case of beer. She let out a boozy burp, swaying unsteadily to her feet as she went to the fridge for more. In four days, she would die, but as to how it would happen, Number Thirty-Nine had never told her.

She opened the fridge, took out another case, shut the door, and slowly slid down to sit with her back against the cold appliance. Her head drooped, both hands resting loosely at her sides. In her right, she still held the case of beer, not yet set on the floor, the cans hanging suspended just a centimeter above the tiles, swaying gently.

With a dull thud, the beer dropped to the ground, and at the same moment, Du Zhiye buried her head between her knees, a whimper escaping through clenched teeth.

…

Ever since Du Zhiye had left, Jiang Yingnan hadn't been in the best of moods. He couldn't even muster the energy to feign politeness with Du Xin. Du Xin, perceptive as she was, noticed Jiang Yingnan’s impatience and tactfully ended the conversation.

"Yingnan, thank you for today," she said, tidying up the contracts on the table while stealing glances at him from the corner of her eye.

She had wanted to use this opportunity to invite Jiang Yingnan to dinner, but seeing his clear annoyance, she decided to let it go.

As soon as Du Xin left, Xu Hao came in. He scratched his head in confusion at the look on Jiang Yingnan's face.

After Jiang Yingnan and Du Xin's last arranged date, Xu Hao had called to ask how he felt about her, and Jiang Yingnan had said it was fine. Today, seeing Du Xin downstairs at Jiang Group, Xu Hao had brought her up. Wanting to give them time to bond, he’d made an excuse to leave them alone.

He killed over half an hour at the coffee shop downstairs, but boredom soon set in, so he thought he might go back up and tease the new secretary. Who would have guessed, the moment he stepped outside the building, he bumped into Du Xin.

How to put it? Though Du Xin greeted him with a smile, it was the kind of smile that looked painfully forced.

…

After crying for a while, Du Zhiye found that, perhaps because the alcohol had evaporated along with her tears, her mind was clearer than ever. Carrying her beer, she returned to the dining room. Staring at the table full of cold dishes, she felt not the slightest appetite.

Her throat was hoarse from sobbing, so she opened another can and took a long, hard swig. Then she went to her room and turned on the computer.

Whatever form her death might take, she figured she ought to leave a letter behind.

She logged into Weibo, intending simply to write a will. But as she typed, she found herself writing out her entire life story—from childhood to now, including how she’d caught Tao Ranming cheating, and all the bizarre things that had followed.

She hadn’t even finished saving the draft when a familiar voice sounded behind her. “Do you think you can really post what you’ve written?”

Du Zhiye froze, and when she turned, she saw a shadow lurking not far away, half-hidden in the darkness.

She pressed her lips into a thin line, staring at Number Thirty-Nine in silence—a silent protest.

“So you’re giving up?” The voice was utterly devoid of emotion.

Du Zhiye bit her lower lip, then gave a soft, almost inaudible “Mm.”

Number Thirty-Nine said nothing, simply watching her from the shadows. She couldn’t see his eyes, nor guess what it meant that he neither left nor spoke.

Half a minute later, unable to stand it, Du Zhiye broke the silence. “I have four days left.”

Her meaning was clear—she knew she’d die in four days if she failed her task, so he could leave now. She didn’t want to see him anymore.

“Your accident was no accident.”

Du Zhiye’s pupils narrowed sharply. Not an accident? Then—

She wanted to ask more, but when she looked again, Number Thirty-Nine had vanished from the darkness.