Hedgehog's Belly - Chapter 23

Chapter 23

In the evening, under the organization of Chen Ju—the head of the vocal music group and president of the student cadre association—the entire staff was invited to a party house.

“Everyone eat and play your hearts out! This place belongs to my uncle, so it’s on the house!” Chen Ju stood on a table, trying to organize the chaotic scene. “But a reminder: remember the ‘Three Nos’—no drinking, no smoking, and no gambling!”

“No problem, Chen Dog!” a crowd of people shouted in unison, with Yan Qingzhu’s voice being the most prominent among them.

“I’m talking specifically about you, Yan Qingzhu! You better not drink. Otherwise, people will post on the school forum again accusing me of forcing wine on a junior!” Chen Ju pointed at Yan Qingzhu, roaring in mock indignation. Last year, he had a drinking contest with Yan Qingzhu; unfortunately, Chen Ju was a “three-cup wonder” who passed out, ending up on the school forum being ridiculed for his poor tolerance.

“No problem, Chen Dog!” Yan Qingzhu, sprawled on the sofa, snapped her fingers with a cheerful face.

— “Why doesn’t Young Master Chen invite us to Jingguan Garden?”

— “Is it that you don’t want to invite us?”

Chen Ju cursed back: “Is it that I don’t want to go? Even if I sold myself, I couldn’t afford a single bottle of wine there!”

The room was noisy; the clack of billiard balls mixed with the music, cheers, and constant shouting. Chen Ju yelled once more as a reminder: “Remember the Three Nos! Remember the Three Nos!”

Luo Mu and Yan Qingzhu chose a relatively quiet corner sofa. Luo Mu glanced at her phone screen.

She had received a new message.

When she clicked it, she saw it was from Qin Jiahui.

Qin the Big Benz: Mumu-zi, I’ve been assigned to the drama group as hard labor TAT.

Lomo: I’ve already highlighted the key points in the history book for you.

Qin the Big Benz: Holy crap, having you is my blessing!

Qin the Big Benz: I wanted to go to the vocal group so badly, but Chen Dog dumped me in drama TAT.

Luo Mu stared at the dialogue box, the corners of her mouth lifting slightly. Inadvertently, she caught the eye of the person beside her, who was propping her chin on her hand. Their eyes met instantly.

“Why is Chen Ju called Chen Dog?” Luo Mu asked, breaking the long-overdue silence.

Yan Qingzhu pursed her lips into a smile, her expression calm. “When the student cadre list was first released, the Student Union President’s name was written as ‘Chen Gou’ (陈茍). It was the ‘Gou’ with the grass radical. Back then, the students thought he just had a strange name.”

“A month later, everyone found out the director had simply registered the name wrong. But everyone had gotten used to calling him that, and it stuck.” Yan Qingzhu pulled the ring on a cola can, and bubbles hissed out. “Chen Dog isn’t a petty person; no one took it to heart.”

“That is indeed ridiculous,” Luo Mu murmured lazily, her eyes lowering as Yan Qingzhu handed the opened cola can to her.

“There are plenty of ridiculous things in this world.” Yan Qingzhu opened another can, took a sip, and spoke in a humorous tone.

Luo Mu teased: “Like what?”

Yan Qingzhu’s eyes darted around, and she moved a step closer to Luo Mu. “Like, for example, a loving couple who had two children…”

Luo Mu instinctively asked: “And then we calculate the probability of the children being sick?”

Yan Qingzhu went blank for a few seconds before she couldn’t help but burst into laughter. “No—no.”

After calming down, she spoke slowly in a mocking tone: “They had two children, but unfortunately, only the younger one was the husband’s biological child.”

Luo Mu listened, her brows furrowing slightly. Even if a child was biological, a father might never value them. Despite this, Luo Mu still feared failing her father’s expectations. But when she finally gathered the courage to look back one day, she realized he had long ago paved a brilliant path for his adopted son.

Regarding blood ties, Luo Mu was truly conflicted.

Jiang Yan, having changed into casual clothes, ran over and sat beside Luo Mu, hooking her arm around Luo Mu’s. Her small dimples showed as she struggled to hide a smile.

“Sister Muzi, I’m going off to play. The boys in the Japanese language group are all so handsome!” Jiang Yan whispered gleefully.

Yan Qingzhu made a sighing sound, saying dismissively: “No one’s keeping you here.”

Jiang Yan rolled her eyes at Yan Qingzhu, said her goodbyes, and ran into the noisy crowd.

Luo Mu wasn’t well-suited for loud venues and had no interest in the entertainment activities. Every time her mind drifted off into a daze, Yan Qingzhu caught her. Luo Mu watched her get up, say a few words to Chen Ju, and return with two dice cups and a few dice.

As Yan Qingzhu sat back down, Luo Mu stated clearly: “I don’t know how to play dice.”

“Let’s play something simple: guessing if the total is odd or even.” Yan Qingzhu placed the dice cup on the table, her eyes sharp yet her posture lazy as she settled back into her seat. “I just made up the rules.”

“If you guess correctly, the other person has to answer one question honestly.” Yan Qingzhu took a sip of cola, her profile sharp and defined. “Yan Yu and I always play like this.”

Luo Mu’s gaze instantly became guarded, her hand gripping the cola can until her knuckles turned white. A powerful sense of threat dazed her, even though she clearly had nothing to lose. So where did this fear come from, and why?

Yan Qingzhu watched the person in front of her tremble slightly, her face grave. She was about to withdraw. “Then forget it, I’ll just take them back…”

“Let’s play.” Luo Mu lowered her eyes, then looked back up into the other’s eyes, her tone firm. “Let’s play.”

In the first round, Yan Qingzhu shook the dice cup a few times and stopped, looking at the person before her.

Luo Mu propped her head on her hand, her voice faint: “Even.”

Yan Qingzhu revealed the dice—three of them: a two and two sixes.

Luo Mu thought for a long time before finally asking the question: “How did you and your ex-boyfriend get together?”

“Asking something so big in the first round?” Yan Qingzhu chuckled, her eyes reflecting Luo Mu’s without the slightest hint of a loser’s stance.

Luo Mu did not respond; her gaze remained steady and did not flinch, wanting only to hear the answer.

“He is the son of my mother’s best friend. At the time, I wanted to please my mother, so I got close to him,” Yan Qingzhu said nonchalantly, playing idly with the dice.

“But it was all for show. We just treated each other as ordinary friends.”

Yan Qingzhu turned the silver ring on her knuckle, every word she spoke being frank. “Because he knew I didn’t actually like him, he gave me a way out back then. We were ‘together’ for only two days, and in the end, he was the one who initiated the breakup.”

Or rather, he actually knew Yan Qingzhu’s secret.

“People who are full of purpose but cannot pretend are the most lethal,” Luo Mu said with a shallow smile, while Yan Qingzhu seemed to let herself be teased.

“That’s true.” Yan Qingzhu nodded.

In the second round, Luo Mu gave her wrist a light shake. After a few seconds, Yan Qingzhu murmured: “Odd.”

Luo Mu lifted the dice cup: two fours and a three.

“Nothing to ask.” Yan Qingzhu glanced at the dice and leaned back with a stretch.

“If you’re like this, it makes me look like a scoundrel,” Luo Mu said, tucking a stray hair behind her ear, revealing a small mole on her wrist.

“Fine then,” Yan Qingzhu said, her arms resting on her knees, her back slightly arched. After a long silence, she smiled: “The woody fragrance on you—does it have a meaning?”

Luo Mu, who was in the middle of taking a sip of cola, froze at the question. Then, she uttered two words.

“Atonement.”

But some sins are unforgivable.

Yan Qingzhu’s expression froze instantly.

Luo Mu: “Do you want me to tell you about it in detail?”

Yan Qingzhu: “I’m all ears.”

“I was a child raised by my Grandmother (A-ma). After A-ma passed away, there was truly nothing left to eat at home. I was so hungry that I ran to the nearby temple to steal and eat the offerings.” Luo Mu took a breath, as if reciting her own transgressions.

Luo Mu never imagined that one day, she would face a person with no blood relation and reopen the past that had long been buried and untouched.

But then, she had nothing to lose to begin with.

The party house was teeming with people and incredibly noisy. Laughter and cheers intertwined; no one would notice the shadow in the corner.

But in her mind, the image surfaced: a clumsy child, crying until her ears rang, stepping onto a long red wooden bench to climb onto the altar of offerings, carefully taking a piece of red rice cake.

In the memory of the current Luo Mu, that red rice cake was hard, dry, and difficult to swallow. Every few bites, she would choke until she coughed out tears. But back then, she knew very well it was the only thing she could eat. If someone had offered her priceless gold to trade for the red rice cake in her hand at that time, with her childhood mindset, she would have refused.

A piece of red rice cake, worth more than a thousand pieces of gold.

Yet she understood; A-ma had taught her that those things were used to respect the gods, and one must have a heart of reverence.

One cannot be greedy; she had been taught that.

“I was taught… I cannot be greedy… I have family…” Little Luo Mu wiped the crumbs from her mouth with her sleeve, repeating this sentence from start to finish.

At that time, she refused to admit that A-ma would never come back—just like her father would never come back.

So, she only took one piece of red rice cake, crying and screaming for A-ma until her voice went hoarse, but no one responded.

“Back then, the girl only had the heart to take one piece of red rice cake; she didn’t dare be disrespectful to the gods.” Luo Mu used her hand to pull back the hair at her temple, pointing to an old scar on her forehead, her gaze calm and deep. Yan Qingzhu pulled her into her arms; the warmth of the body made Luo Mu feel a bit better.

“So she, she kowtowed until her scalp broke, constantly praying for the gods’ forgiveness.”

That day, the rain poured down. That day, it was a mess of blood and flesh.

“She thought she would never step into that temple again, until a few local bullies somehow found out her family member died and she had stolen the offerings. Every time they saw her, they threw things at her and splashed her with dirty water, calling it ‘clearing away the bad luck’ in the name of righteousness.”

“Cursed child! Cursed child!” Even now, Luo Mu could hear the insults of those children in her mind. The greatest evil in human nature is often manifested during childhood.

That day, Luo Mu hid in the temple once again. Little Luo Mu protected her head with both hands, her whole body trembling violently, hiding under a sandalwood table. The steadiness and softness of the sandalwood incense comforted all her fear and pain; it was the only peace Luo Mu felt in the three months since A-ma passed away.

— “Cursed child, come out! See if I don’t beat you to death!”

— “You think I can’t find you if you hide in there?!”

Suddenly, a strange boy’s voice suppressed the bullies: “Stop making noise!”

Then a woman’s voice followed: “You children go play elsewhere, no noise is allowed here!”

After a long time, when Luo Mu realized the bullies had been driven away by the people coming to pray, her emotions slowly calmed. Enduring her sobs, she touched the wounds where she had been hit, just as A-ma used to gently touch her injuries and comfort her, saying it wouldn’t hurt anymore. Because A-ma said wherever it hurts, you must touch it—touch it, and it won’t hurt anymore.

That day, the gods saved me once again.

I am beyond redemption.