Hedgehog's Belly - Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Luo Mu felt confused. She turned around to see a figure standing still under the streetlamp.

“Big Sister,” the girl’s voice was delicate as she called out softly.

The girl appeared youthful under the glow of the light, her eyes bright and clear. Her posture was balanced and tall—practically flawless. Luo Mu felt that describing her simply as “soft” would be a disservice.

She was vibrant yet resilient, with a hazy quality like the thick mist of an autumn night.

If not for that “Big Sister,” it would have been hard for Luo Mu to imagine the relationship between these two. The stubbornness and defiance radiating from the girl were just like Yan Qingzhu’s. Yet, she still had the look of a child, her gaze clear and candid.

“Big Sister,” Yan Yu called again. Yan Qingzhu only nodded slowly. Yan Yu draped Yan Qingzhu’s arm over her own shoulder and asked cautiously, “Can you still walk?”

“It’s a bit touch-and-go,” Yan Qingzhu replied flatly.

Luo Mu knew Yan Qingzhu had a sister, but the girl before her was different from her memory. The cheeks, having lost their baby fat, held a hint of youthful greenness. Height growth during puberty was understandable, but as the girl passed by, Luo Mu realized the child was a good head taller than herself.

Yan Yu tried to prop Yan Qingzhu up, her other hand guarding Yan Qingzhu’s waist. Yan Qingzhu had been sitting for a while and had napped in the wind, so her head throbbed. Though her mind was conscious, standing up caused her vision to go black with dizziness, making her stumble.

“Big Sister,” Yan Yu said, full of worry, as she probed carefully: “You’re drunk, aren’t you?”

Yan Qingzhu answered quickly: “No.”

Yan Yu hesitated, her brow furrowing slightly. After a long pause, she said, “Do you remember the transformation spell for Dark Fairy Xiaoyue?”

Yan Qingzhu “tsked,” not expecting the child to ask such a question. Impatience was written all over her face.

“I don’t know.”

Yan Yu let out a long, dramatic sigh: “Then you’re not drunk.”

Luo Mu knew it wasn’t proper to eavesdrop on the sisters, but hearing Yan Yu’s remark made her laugh so hard she started coughing.

They really were a family—one brain, one logic.

One didn’t even have to guess that Yan Yu’s way of speaking was inherited from Yan Qingzhu.

Seeing this, even while struggling to support Yan Qingzhu, Yan Yu didn’t forget to greet Luo Mu.

“Hello, Sister.”

Yan Qingzhu lowered her head and corrected her in a low voice: “Sister Muzi.”

Yan Yu repeated it quickly and warmly: “Hello, Sister Muzi. I’m Yan Yu.”

“I always hear your sister mention you.” Luo Mu looked at the child. Her features indeed shared similarities with Yan Qingzhu; her finely tailored, loose white top served to accentuate her well-proportioned figure.

She then said to Yan Qingzhu, “So you called your sister to come pick you up. It’s hard work for her.”

The corners of Yan Qingzhu’s mouth lifted slightly. She looked down at Yan Yu and said calmly, “She’s long since used to it.”

Indeed, they were used to it—both Yan Yu and Yan Qingzhu.

When pain couldn’t be resolved, Yan Qingzhu always chose the most futile way to escape. Numbing her nerves with alcohol, she hallucinated that waking up would bring a new beginning. But no one had ever told her how to face scabs that hadn’t finished healing.

With no one to back her up, she had drifted like duckweed all these years, forcing herself to withstand the wind and waves. it was exhausting and searing.

Yan Yu never asked for reasons. She knew her sister was sad; she knew her sister was tired.

It was just fortunate that Yan Qingzhu never drank until she blacked out when she was alone, and fortunate that someone was always willing to come pick her up.

Fortunate that someone was bringing her home.

Yan Yu offered no explanation for Yan Qingzhu’s words, only a light smile: “This place is quite close to Yueshi. Sister Muzi, would you like to come over for a bit?”

These two sisters really liked “kidnapping” people to their home. But remembering Yan Qingzhu’s previous claim that this child had a violent temper, it was hard to connect that with the girl standing here now.

Luo Mu replied casually, “Yan Qingzhu isn’t very clear-headed, so I won’t add to your trouble.”

Yan Qingzhu showed a hint of displeasure, pouting: “I am very clear-headed.”

“She is indeed very clear-headed,” Yan Yu said, glancing up at Yan Qingzhu on her shoulder, her voice certain. “Don’t worry, you won’t be a trouble.”

Seeing the girl’s sincerity, Luo Mu nodded.

On the way home, Yan Yu checked on Yan Qingzhu’s condition every few steps. Annoyed by the questioning, Yan Qingzhu “tsked” from time to time.

Yan Qingzhu said nonchalantly: “So, what is Dark Fairy Xiaoyue’s transformation spell?”

Yan Yu smiled faintly, her gaze tender: “You really don’t know?”

Yan Qingzhu said solemnly: “How could I possibly know.”

Yan Yu laughed to herself, saying meaningfully: “But that’s not what you said last year when you blacked out.”

Walking beside them, Luo Mu felt this sister’s way of speaking was cast from the same mold as Yan Qingzhu’s. They were always thinking of how to embarrass the other for their own amusement.

Confused, Yan Qingzhu used the arm hooked over Yan Yu’s shoulder to pinch her cheek. “What is this little thing trying to say?”

“Last year at Aunt Chu’s wedding, you blacked out,” Yan Yu giggled. “You had a contest with a bunch of elementary schoolers to see who could recite more spells.”

Yan Qingzhu was speechless. In her memory, she had indeed been dazed by the alcohol. Her mind only recalled arguing with a group of kids under ten until they were all red in the face, and she had even climbed onto a table. As for the content, she truly couldn’t remember. If Yan Yu hadn’t mentioned it, she might have never recalled it for the rest of her life.

Yan Yu didn’t go into detail, knowing that her sister, like their mother, had strong self-esteem. She only dared to drop a hint in front of an outsider.

At the time, her sister was incoherent. Several children, who were fed up with hearing their parents praise Yan Qingzhu, had intentionally provoked her. Those kids were all elementary students; the age gap didn’t make them respect her. They knew they couldn’t win an argument or a fight against her, so the more they realized that, the more they wanted to make things difficult for her.

— “I don’t care! You won’t say it, so you lose!” one child taunted her.

— “You don’t even know Dark Fairy Xiaoyue’s transformation spell!” another child chimed in.

Yan Yu never participated in such farces. Looking at the drunken Yan Qingzhu, she thought an excellent person like her sister wouldn’t care about such nonsensical provocations. An outstanding high schooler like her sister wouldn’t play with little kids like them.

Until…

“Pah!” Yan Qingzhu reeked of alcohol, her face flushed red. “Are you stupid or what?”

“Th-then say it! You just don’t know!” The child grew anxious, unable to match the aura of the drunkard before them.

Yan Yu had been watching the joke from the next table, waiting to see how her most-prized sister would crush everyone.

She was instantly numbed.

At the end of the hotel banquet, in full view of the public, Yan Qingzhu climbed onto the dining table. With a wave of her right hand, she pointed at the provoking child: “Guralla, God of Darkness—Huhula—Black Fairy Magic Light!”

Yan Yu only remembered that the child was indeed terrified, nearly bursting into tears. The dazed Yan Qingzhu didn’t feel embarrassed; instead, like a victorious general, she believed herself to be valiant and wild. She then jumped off the table and continued bickering with the elementary students.

“Who else wants to challenge me? Come over here, all of you!” Yan Qingzhu grinned fiercely. Yan Yu could feel that those words were practically roared from her chest.

Fortunately, most of the guests had left, and more importantly, their mother wasn’t there. If their mother had been present, it would have been truly tragic.

Since then, those children who had “competed” with Yan Qingzhu would politely say “Hello, Sister Yan” whenever they saw her. A sober Yan Qingzhu was confused and had asked Yan Yu what happened that night, but Yan Yu only smiled and said nothing. Yan Qingzhu truly believed those brats had just been on the wrong medication that day.

Yan Qingzhu looked stunned: “…For real?”

Yan Yu: “You told me yourself, Big Sister. You don’t tell lies.”

Luo Mu fought back her laughter, turning her head away, but she still made a sound.

Yan Qingzhu felt humiliated, though she wasn’t small-minded. It was rare to hear of her own embarrassment from someone else, but she hadn’t expected it to be mentioned in such a relaxed atmosphere—that was a silver lining.

Noticing Luo Mu finally laughing out loud, Yan Qingzhu remarked, “Laugh if you want to. It’s not like there are any outsiders.”

Hearing about her own antics, she found it somewhat amusing; she was rarely as open-minded as she was today. It would just become a post-meal joke for relatives every year; maybe those elementary students would even write about it in their essays. Yan Qingzhu had even thought of a title.

It would be called The “Other People’s Child” Who Suffered a Social Death Incomparable in the Universe.

After the laughter died down, Yan Qingzhu felt more sober. Luo Mu also composed herself, and their eyes met.

Yan Qingzhu teased, “Does Sister Luo Mu have any jokes to make me laugh?”

Luo Mu knew the other was up to no good, but she remained calm: “Are you trying to bait me?”

Yan Qingzhu paused for a moment, grinning. “A favor for a favor.”

Luo Mu looked serious and warned her: “I’m only saying this once, so listen closely.”

Yan Qingzhu chuckled: “Of course.”

Yan Yu’s gaze fell on Yan Qingzhu.

She hadn’t expected Yan Qingzhu not to mind her sharing embarrassing stories in front of a friend. Instead, her sister seemed immersed in this unique laughter—simple and cheap. Under their past education, their mother would have made her feel that this behavior was shameful and humiliating.

But now, her sister was like a kite with a broken string; this cheap happiness carried no burden. At this moment, Yan Yu finally saw the word “relief” in Yan Qingzhu’s eyes.

Luo Mu held up her index finger, looking dead serious: “Only once.”

Yan Qingzhu: “Mm.”

Luo Mu: “Just once.”

Yan Qingzhu: “Okay.”

As if solemnly announcing a major event, Luo Mu paused for a long time, took a deep breath, and said with total gravity:

“I don’t have ankles.”

Yan Qingzhu froze for a few seconds before reacting.

“Hahahaha, you’re crazy!” A tear of laughter escaped Yan Qingzhu’s eye. “I thought you were going to say something important.”

The corners of Yan Yu’s mouth also lifted, and she couldn’t help but cough. She had always thought her sister’s friends would be intellectual like her sister; she never expected to meet one this way. It was truly unprecedented.

“I’m not crazy. I just don’t have ankles,” Luo Mu explained casually.

Yan Qingzhu laughed until she was out of breath. It took a long time for her to recover. “I believe you.”

Luo Mu frowned: “Why do you believe me just like that?”

Yan Qingzhu: “If you say it, I believe it.”

Luo Mu pouted, looking helpless: “Is there really no room for rebuttal?”

Yan Qingzhu: “Should I say ‘I don’t believe you’?”

Luo Mu waved her hands in mock grievance, signaling she had nothing left to say.

Yan Yu felt Yan Qingzhu trembling with laughter and marveled at how powerful emotions could be. If unlucky, they strip a person of dignity and rational thought. If lucky, they are dazzling joy and unspeakable hope.

It’s just that in the education they received, their mother always polarized everything, including emotions.

But those were real human senses. Joy was real, and pain was real.

Dear Mother, those are all real.

“Big Sister,” Yan Yu murmured cautiously.

“Don’t think too much, forget it all,” Yan Qingzhu whispered into Yan Yu’s ear. She knew exactly what her sister was worried about.

She shouldn’t become a product of dogmatic education.

She shouldn’t become a second Yan Qingzhu.

After returning home, Yan Yu settled Yan Qingzhu on the sofa and handed her a cup of warm honey water.

Yan Qingzhu’s eyes were vacant. She asked simply, “Where’s Mom?”

“She went to Aunt Chu’s; she’ll be back late tonight,” Yan Yu replied. “I made egg drop soup. I’ll serve it in a bowl in a bit. Sister Muzi, please have some too.”

Luo Mu sat beside Yan Qingzhu and nodded to Yan Yu.

“No need to serve mine in a bowl,” Yan Qingzhu said, her head aching. She slumped on the sofa and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Just pour it directly into my mouth. Then you won’t even have to wash the bowl.”

Ridiculous.

Luo Mu studied her. She had often heard that some people keep a tight string of tension while outside after drinking, only for it to snap once they get home. She was seeing it now.

Yan Yu only smiled and said nothing. After tidying the ornaments on the table, she went into the kitchen.

Luo Mu reflected on how blood ties bound two people together. That objective existence was an indelible fact. The way all things depend on and coalesce with one another was an ancient obsession. She envied the entanglement of that unbreakable thread and the courage and confidence never to give up on that bond.

She truly believed in the power of blood ties.

It was just that at nine years old, she had been forced to accept the so-called gifts of fate—a family with no sense of belonging and a brother with whom she shared no blood.

She knew she could never escape this murky situation.

Everything could only be described in two words: absurd.

“This child really is a lot like you,” Luo Mu murmured softly.

“I’m nothing like her,” Yan Qingzhu stared at Luo Mu, her tone cold. Her fingers flexed slightly, even showing a trace of trembling.

“I am a child who grew out of a crack in a rock. She is a flower in a greenhouse,” Yan Qingzhu met Luo Mu’s eyes. Her strong pride prevented her from saying anything soft; her low tone was full of pressure. “How could she possibly dare to go head-to-head with me?”

How could she possibly dare to go head-to-head with me?

Yan Qingzhu knew that whether facing Yan Yu or facing herself, she would never look away. Countless times she had told herself that if she hesitated in the face of pain, injury, and humiliation, she would be finished.

But while her eyes revealed sharpness, another emotion leaked out inadvertently—the despair she feared. It was like a wildly growing vine spreading along her spine to her heart; one movement, one searing pain.

Luo Mu only smiled faintly and took the other’s slightly trembling hand. Perhaps pain was a mark left on life, like a time bomb that would explode at irregular intervals in the future, tormenting one endlessly.

“Liar.”

Luo Mu spoke each word clearly, looking up at Yan Qingzhu with a gaze that didn’t hesitate for an instant.