Hedgehog's Belly - Chapter 17

Chapter 17

“Liar.”

She is a precious existence to you, so naturally, you cannot bear to compare yourself to her.

You feel deeply for this child.

“Don’t look so miserable.” Luo Mu rubbed the center of Yan Qingzhu’s forehead. “It’s quite ugly.”

Yan Qingzhu acted aggrieved: “I am not.”

Luo Mu peered at her expression; she looked exactly like a child lying, instinctively denying a mistake.

But Yan Qingzhu, one really doesn’t always have to try so hard to be strong.

“Sister Muzi,” Yan Yu brought in three bowls of egg drop soup on a wooden tray, carefully handing the first one to Luo Mu. “Big Sister doesn’t like it too hot, so I didn’t cook it for long. It’s just warm, try it.”

Luo Mu took the bowl and nodded in thanks. After taking a small sip, she realized something was off.

A hint of confusion slowly crossed her face: “It’s sweet?”

After handing another bowl to Yan Qingzhu, Yan Yu placed the bowl with the smallest portion in front of herself.

She instinctively asked: “Does Sister Muzi not like it?”

“She likes sweet things quite a bit.” Before Luo Mu could answer, Yan Qingzhu spoke up first, her tone casual.

Luo Mu glanced at Yan Qingzhu, who was sipping her soup calmly and unhurriedly.

One second she was acting tough because of her sister; the next, she was making excuses for her.

Truly a “tough mouth, soft heart” kind of person.

“Is that so? I thought it might not suit Sister Muzi’s taste,” Yan Yu murmured, breathing a sigh of relief.

Luo Mu’s brows remained furrowed until Yan Qingzhu shot her a look, raising her left eyebrow slightly.

Luo Mu knew what she meant: Give the kid a graceful way out.

“I like it very much,” Luo Mu said with a faint smile, then took another sip.

The weight on Yan Yu’s heart lifted, her brows relaxed, and she obediently began drinking her soup.

While Yan Yu was eating, Luo Mu and Yan Qingzhu looked at each other, a unique warmth diffusing through the air. Luo Mu smiled meaningfully and mouthed the words to the person in front of her:

I. Like. Salty. Things.

Yan Qingzhu thought for a moment, then mimicked her with exaggerated mouth movements:

Me. Too.

The two laughed in unison.

Luo Mu thought to herself that the person in front of her was truly a dishonest girl. Even when cooking for herself, she would add more sugar just because her sister liked sweets; Luo Mu hadn’t expected that Yan Qingzhu actually preferred savory flavors.

But Luo Mu didn’t tell Yan Qingzhu that she actually didn’t like sweets—not even a little bit.

Once the three of them finished eating, Yan Yu cleared the bowls and left. Only then did Luo Mu lean toward Yan Qingzhu and whisper, “Does your house have more sugar than salt?”

Yan Qingzhu rubbed her head; the bowl of hot soup had indeed cleared her mind a bit. She turned to the person beside her: “We probably have more rice than both.”

“Do you enjoy talking nonsense that much?” Luo Mu narrowed her eyes. Although she expected Yan Qingzhu wouldn’t be serious—always preferring to answer beside the point or bait others—she admitted her view of her had changed significantly.

Yan Qingzhu always liked saying ridiculous things and doing things only a child would do.

She would be disobedient and go out drinking, but she would also be obedient and wait for someone to pick her up and bring her home.

She would treat her sister with a cold tone, yet remember her specific tastes.

What else was there?

Luo Mu’s lashes lowered as she tilted her head, her gaze falling on the other’s ear. Luo Mu was afraid of pain and had no piercings; she had heard classmates say the pain in the cartilage was particularly sharp.

But what could this girl possibly be afraid of?

— “There are plenty of things I’m afraid of.”

Luo Mu closed her eyes and sighed. But Yan Qingzhu, who isn’t?

Just like the line from the textbook: “The mountain passes are hard to cross; who grieves for the one who has lost their way?”

“Does getting an ear piercing hurt?” Luo Mu’s tone softened, her voice trembling slightly.

“It’s just so-so. It can still fester if not handled well.” Yan Qingzhu rubbed the silver stud in her right cartilage. “But I got it done when I was very young; I don’t remember how much it hurt.”

Yan Qingzhu had no concept of pain, nor did she have the habit of harboring grudges against it. Even the time she was beaten by her mother for failing to recite classical prose—leaving her legs covered in red welts—she had forgotten how it felt.

She only remembered crying for a long time. As for whether she finally memorized the prose or even what its name was, Yan Qingzhu truly couldn’t say.

Yan Qingzhu’s lashes drooped as she exhaled slowly, saying nonchalantly: “Pain only lasts for a while, not a lifetime.”

But when the pain is forgotten, the hideous, unnerving scars remain. They only wait for an inadvertent moment to tear open and fester again.

Luo Mu tilted her head, nodding thoughtfully.

“Then why did you think of getting a piercing in the first place?”

Yan Qingzhu had intended to look away, but hearing the question, her thin lips curled into a slight smile.

She intentionally made up a reason, saying mockingly: “Because my mom said I could have an extra pair of gold earrings as a dowry when I get married later.”

Luo Mu froze. A wave of bitterness suddenly rose in her heart as she realized what the person said wasn’t without merit. Recalling the things she had said to Ji Rongshu, she realized some things indeed had a trail to follow.

— “Because she has been in a relationship.”

— “And it was with a guy.”

The smile that had been on Luo Mu’s face vanished instantly, and all words died in her throat.

It seemed Ji Rongshu was right.

Yan Qingzhu, however, burst out laughing. She got up to pour a glass of water, placed it in front of Luo Mu, and looked down to ask: “You really believed that?”

Luo Mu was stunned, realizing she had fallen for this brat’s trick once again.

“Back then it was just for fun; there wasn’t really a reason.” Yan Qingzhu sat back on the sofa, slumping her entire body against it. She closed her eyes and pondered for a moment: “My upbringing was strict before; I couldn’t do anything. Now that no one controls me, there are too many things I want to do.”

“Like what?” Luo Mu’s eyes were half-closed as she probed.

“Everything you can think of, I want to try.” Yan Qingzhu hadn’t expected her to ask that. She stared at her, speaking unhurriedly.

Luo Mu felt that the gaze between them wasn’t entirely benevolent; it was like a standoff, a game of strategy. It felt as if the next move could put either of them in checkmate.

A match between equals.

“Everything I can think of, you’re willing to try?” An unnamable fire ignited in Luo Mu’s heart. With a cold smile and a chill in her voice, she asked:

“Yan Qingzhu, you’ve been in a relationship, haven’t you?”

Yan Qingzhu looked up abruptly, a flash of cunning in her eyes. She didn’t know where the girl had heard this, but to her, it didn’t matter; it wasn’t enough to disturb her composure.

Yan Qingzhu moved closer to Luo Mu step by step, resting her right hand on Luo Mu’s left shoulder and leaning her head against the other’s right shoulder. Her voice was low but mixed with a tingle that could melt one’s bones: “Does Sister Muzi want to, too?”

Luo Mu, do you want to?

Luo Mu, do you have someone you like?

Luo Mu’s gaze trembled, as if ten thousand ants were devouring her heart. Even she admitted she had always disdained the topic of love. But now, the question stood before her like a mirror, asking: Do you crave love?

In an instant, an unprecedented power dredged up everything lost and forgotten from the depths.

“I have an emotional obsession with purity,” Luo Mu said, feigning composure, articulating every word clearly.

Luo Mu knew this was murky water; if she fell in, when would she ever see the light again?

Knowing clearly that we walk different paths, what is my fault, and why do you provoke me?

Yan Qingzhu looked up, her expression grave. Her eyes lowered and her lips held a trace of a smile—forced yet restrained.

They were so close they could hear each other’s slow breathing.

Luo Mu studied her.

We are not on the same boat, nor are we fellow travelers.

“How is Big Sister now?” Yan Yu finished cleaning the kitchen and took a few sobriety pills on a small saucer, placing them in front of Yan Qingzhu.

Yan Qingzhu glanced at Luo Mu, the corners of her mouth turning up slightly. She then answered Yan Yu flatly: “Quite well, no need for those.”

“It’s getting late; I should head back.” Luo Mu slowly stood up, but after taking one step, she was yanked back by a force. Yan Qingzhu grabbed her wrist, pulling her back.

Yan Qingzhu’s voice carried a hint of raspiness as she showed a smile, “I’ll walk you.”

“Yan Yu, your sister always likes to talk nonsense. Keep an eye on her.” Luo Mu signaled to Yan Yu, who didn’t quite understand the meaning but nodded obediently.

Yan Qingzhu pouted, unconsciously muttering to herself.

“Sister Muzi, which direction is your home?” Yan Yu peered at the wrist her sister was gripping tightly. Her sister’s strength was not small, and the slightly protruding veins were quite obvious.

Yan Yu’s brow furrowed slightly.

“In Nanming, not far.” Just as Luo Mu opened her mouth, Yan Qingzhu beat her to it again: “There’s a small path by the second pond; it takes less than ten minutes.”

Luo Mu grew impatient and pinched Yan Qingzhu’s arm with her other hand. With a look of disdain and a face full of complaint, she asked: “Is Nanming your home or mine?”

“Hey, don’t misunderstand, I’m not a stalker.” Yan Qingzhu let go of her wrist and raised both hands in the air by her head, explaining with an aggrieved look: “Don’t be like that; Chen Xi lives there too, that’s how I know. Is there a problem?”

Luo Mu froze, realizing for a few seconds that she had misunderstood. In the midst of her clouded reason, she softly said she was sorry. Seeing the person let go, Yan Yu stepped in to resolve the situation: “Sister Muzi, I know the way. Let me walk you.”

Luo Mu looked back at the person on the sofa. Yan Qingzhu was still staring at her. Luo Mu realized that other than fleeing, there was no other way.

She knew very well that she was no match for her.

On the way back, Yan Yu and Luo Mu maintained a distance with a tacit understanding. This shortcut wasn’t dark; the lights illuminated the path home. From this road came an ethereal melody, echoing with a hint of melancholy and raspiness.

The low, distant sound of an ocarina mixed with the wind, the oppression of it making Luo Mu shiver.

Yan Yu explained that a neighbor’s child was often scolded by his mother for not practicing the ocarina, and finally hid on this small path to practice through his tears.

Luo Mu couldn’t help but laugh, then murmured: “It’s actually a bit creepy late at night.”

Yan Yu tilted her chin slightly, her eyes like a calm lake without ripples: “It is indeed like that.”

Luo Mu looked over, her heart filled with mixed emotions.

A light evening breeze arrived uninvited, revealing a hint of chill in the wordless silence.

“The weather has turned cold.” Luo Mu rubbed her hands and shrugged.

“The temperature drops at night,” Yan Yu answered cautiously, yet in a way that felt comfortable. “Sister Muzi should also be careful to add a layer of clothing.”

Compared to Yan Qingzhu, Yan Yu was indeed more sensible, gentler, and warmer.

If those words were said to Yan Qingzhu, she might just throw back: “Freeze to death then, you idiot.”

Is it because of blood ties? Luo Mu indeed felt their similarities and their differences. And those differences could coexist within the same environment.

Luo Mu chuckled and nodded: “You too, don’t catch a cold.”

They walked for a while until the sound of the ocarina faded. At the last turn by a haystack, Luo Mu noticed the other stop.

“Sister Muzi, Nanming is just around the next corner.” Yan Yu gave a shallow smile. “I’ll leave you here.”

Luo Mu nodded, gave a soft thank you, and turned to leave.

“Sister Muzi,” Luo Mu had only walked a few steps and didn’t turn back. Yan Yu’s voice was very light, but when the wind carried the words to her ear, they were deafening.

“Sister Muzi, do you hate my sister very much?”

The man entered the house and threw a large bag into Ji Rongshu’s arms. Ji Rongshu, who had just lost a few games, “tsked” and opened the bag only to find several bunches of green grapes with Japanese writing on them. The grapes were large, plump, and lustrous.

Ji Rongshu glanced up at the man. Although dissatisfied, he held his temper and said, “Dad, Luo Mu doesn’t like grapes.”

“I didn’t say they were for her.” Luo Zhicheng threw his coat on the sofa, his tone cold. “They’re specifically for you and your mother. Go wash some and take them to her.”

“Then Luo Mu…” Ji Rongshu’s hand, which was gripping the bag, tightened into a fist, but he slowly let go an instant later. He sighed lightly, swallowing all his emotions back down. “Fine, I understand.”

“Alright, don’t wash them yet,” Luo Zhicheng pulled a bottle of red wine and two crystal glasses from the cabinet. “Come here, I want to have a word with you.”

This is a nightmare.

Ji Rongshu stood with his back to Luo Zhicheng, every nerve in his body tense. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, forcing himself to remain calm.

Where the hell is Luo Mu? Why isn’t she back yet?

Ji Rongshu arranged the grapes on a fruit plate and sat back on the sofa. He watched as Luo Zhicheng used a corkscrew to pull the wooden stopper from the bottle and pour the wine into the glasses.

“Dad, I don’t drink.” Ji Rongshu lowered his eyes, his tone firm.

He knew in his heart that if he said no to this man, Luo Zhicheng wouldn’t force him. Ji Rongshu was certain this calculation wouldn’t fail.

Luo Zhicheng smiled faintly and didn’t stop pouring; instead, he filled the second glass. Although his expression was serious, he didn’t force the issue. “If you don’t drink, then I’ll drink that glass for you.”

Ji Rongshu nodded. When he was a child facing the elders’ interrogations, he would always be criticized and scolded alongside Luo Mu. But now that Luo Mu wasn’t there, he was the only one left to endure the pain.

“Midterms are coming up, right? Use your phone less.” Luo Zhicheng swirled his glass and took a sip. “What are your plans for the midterms?”

Whenever Ji Rongshu encountered this question, he got a headache. With his personality, he didn’t want to compare himself to others, but he still said the words against his will: “Surpass Zhou Shulei.”

Of course I can’t out-score him, Ji Rongshu grumbled inwardly. He was just saying things to make the man in front of him happy.

“Ha, as expected of my son,” Luo Zhicheng said proudly, patting Ji Rongshu’s shoulder. “When are you going to invite Zhou Shulei over? Let your old man see this genius scholar!”

Although they were in an ordinary class, Zhou Shulei had been competing with the honors class students for the top three positions in the science stream since his first year. Having such a scholar friend, Ji Rongshu thought he must have saved the guy’s life in a previous existence to be friends with him now.

If “Brother Rock” had any flaws, it was that his first relationship ended in failure in less than a week. Ji Rongshu cursed silently—his best bro had dated and broken up, while he hadn’t even held the hand of the person he liked.

Ji Rongshu froze for a few seconds, then finally nodded helplessly. Being patient and submissive wasn’t his style, but facing Luo Zhicheng, all he could do was outlast him.

Suddenly, the sound of the front gate opening was heard, and a familiar figure appeared by the door.

“Dad?” Luo Mu hadn’t expected Luo Zhicheng to return at this time, and a cold sweat instantly broke out on her back. Her hand holding the doorknob trembled uncontrollably, as if she were falling into a tsunami with no driftwood to grab.

“So you finally know to come back?” Luo Zhicheng didn’t look at her directly, only looked down and swirled his wine, his voice heavy and raspy.

Luo Mu didn’t respond. Her gaze fell on the red wine bottle and the two glasses on the table. A few drops of wine stained the marble table, looking like fresh blood reflecting on the smooth surface under the light; if she closed her eyes, she could almost smell the iron.

Noticing the glass filled with wine in front of Ji Rongshu, Luo Mu frowned. She walked straight over, raised the glass to toast Luo Zhicheng, and spoke in an unnerving tone.

“He doesn’t drink. I’ll toast you in his place.”

As soon as she finished speaking, she downed the wine. The cold wine slid down her esophagus into her stomach. Combined with the cold wind she had faced on the way back, Luo Mu couldn’t help but shiver, unable to tell which kind of pain was harder to endure.

“Did I say you could drink?” Luo Zhicheng looked at his daughter, his tone unhurried. He wondered when she had become so rebellious.

Perhaps she had always been this way.

Always this disobedient.

“And did you say I couldn’t?” Luo Mu stared at the man, her eyes not flinching, a cool smile playing on her lips.

Then, she raised her voice, feigning humility, and bowed deeply to him: “Consider this glass of wine my apology for returning home late today.”