Hedgehog's Belly - Chapter 27

Chapter 27

“Hey, Brother Wang, is the old man at the office? I’m heading over tonight to drop some things off.”

Yan Qingzhu turned her head to look out the window of the business class cabin. It happened to be dusk, and a stretch of burning clouds ignited the horizon. As the brilliance reflected in her eyes, Yan Qingzhu instinctively shielded them. Estimating her exact arrival time, her tone remained unhurried.

“Is that A-Qing? Merry Christmas. Boss Yan has meetings all evening; he might only have a very short window of free time.” The voice of her father’s assistant came through her earphones. Yan Qingzhu frowned, hearing the noisy environment on the other end and guessing he had run into some trouble again. “What, are you in Lingyang?”

“Exactly how much time?” Yan Qingzhu pressed, sliding down her phone screen to open her notes app.

“I can squeeze out twenty minutes for you at most. Is that okay?” Brother Wang’s voice carried a slight tremor before trailing off.

Yan Qingzhu sensed Brother Wang’s predicament. It was her fault for not giving her father a heads-up. She rubbed her fingertips together and typed a few lines in her notes.

“Twenty minutes is enough,” Yan Qingzhu murmured. “Brother Wang, can I borrow your kitchen?”

Brother Wang was puzzled: “What?”

“Don’t worry, I won’t blow up your kitchen.” Yan Qingzhu let out a chuckle. She knew Brother Wang was young, successful, and a man of refined taste who often shared photos of his home-cooked meals on social media. If she borrowed his kitchen, she wouldn’t have to worry about basic seasonings.

“You just arrived in Lingyang and you’re not asking for a place to stay, but a kitchen to borrow?”

“I asked already—the hotel won’t let me use theirs.” The corners of Yan Qingzhu’s mouth curled up as she struggled to suppress her laughter.

After some soft-soaping, Brother Wang finally agreed to her request. Yan Qingzhu finally slumped back into her seat, rubbed the space between her brows, and let out a sigh. she stared at the itinerary on her screen: from Chujiang City to Lingyang City.

She had once thought she would never buy a ticket for this route in her entire life. Even if she rotted away in Chujiang, she wouldn’t have spared a single fantasy for this city.

But in the end, because of a single sentence from her younger sister, she had come.

That day, Yan Yu was counting the dates on the calendar. She turned to look at Yan Qingzhu and murmured in a soft, delicate voice: “Sister, I don’t know if Father is doing well right now.”

It was a mere murmur, yet it felt as heavy as a thousand pounds pressing against Yan Qingzhu’s chest. it served as a constant reminder, repeatedly tormenting her. Facing the pain, Yan Qingzhu couldn’t bear to look away; the struggles and memories of childhood were like giant waves dragging themselves up from the depths.

Yan Qingzhu’s lips trembled slightly. She glanced at Yan Yu from the corner of her eye, her tone icy: “Do you miss him very much?”

The pain was like a poisoned arrow piercing Yan Qingzhu’s wound—it was as if it were saying that it was all her fault.

Ever since their parents divorced, Yan Qingzhu had never seen Yan Changde again, and Yan Yu had been only seven years old at the time.

“It’s alright.”

Yan Yu lowered her eyes, her fingertip lingering on the 25th. She flipped the old calendar past December and took out a new one. In her childhood memories, her father’s gaze had always landed on her older sister. In fact, only her sister was deemed worthy of the status of a daughter of the Yan family. Whenever the “Yan Family Heiress” was mentioned, everyone’s first thought was Yan Qingzhu.

Some people would even ask: Wait, does the Yan family have another girl?

But that was her sister—her deeply loved and respected sister.

Dazzling and bright.

“Then… are you going to see him?” Yan Qingzhu looked back at Yan Yu, her eyes dark and gloomy, a hint of endurance hidden beneath her calm tone.

An inner void forced her to speak those words, yet Yan Qingzhu herself couldn’t describe this particular bitterness.

Are you going to see him?

It wasn’t a question of whether she wanted to, but whether she would.

“There’s an equestrian competition in a few days; I don’t want to miss it.” Facing her sister’s questioning, Yan Yu understood the underlying meaning. She reaffirmed: “I just want to know how he is doing, nothing more.”

Yan Yu knew that for her sister, matters concerning their father were an unhealable wound. And she herself had a similar stress response to it.

It was okay not to see him; as long as Father was healthy, that was enough.

Even if they didn’t even have the right to look at each other from afar.

But a child is a child, after all, craving the taste of loving and being loved.

“Yan Yu, don’t be so sensible,” Yan Qingzhu watched her sister and stepped forward to pull her into a tight hug. Her fingers wound through Yan Yu’s hair, and her tone was gentle, as if using the warmth of her body to melt a piece of hard, ancient ice. “Then I will go for you.”

Yan Qingzhu rubbed Yan Yu’s head. She knew her sister missed their father—missed him very, very much.

“I’ll go in your place to tell him that you miss him.”

Yan Yu, don’t be so sensible.

Yan Yu’s pupils trembled. Suddenly her shoulders shook, and a single tear traced a path down her cheek, dripping onto Yan Qingzhu’s clothes. Then, accompanied by sobs, she spoke blurred words.

“Sister, I really miss Daddy.”

Hearing Yan Yu’s choked, nasal voice, Yan Qingzhu’s nose stung. She rested her head against Yan Yu’s.

The two sisters embraced for warmth in the vast house that belonged only to them.

Yan Yu, a true member of the Yan family, radiated a humility from her very bones; she was never one to be arrogant or overbearing.

She should have had a smooth future and opportunities coming from all sides. She should have been showered with her mother’s love and her father’s cultivation.

The chime of the train cabin pulled Yan Qingzhu back to reality. She looked out the window at the scenery leading into Lingyang City, gazing down at everything in this city.

After Christmas comes New Year’s Day, and after New Year’s Day comes the Lunar New Year.

Once the New Year passes, one becomes a year older.

Yan Qingzhu spaced out, suddenly realizing she would reach adulthood next year. She couldn’t help but let out a cold laugh.

Those forced to become adults do not get a “Coming of Age” ceremony.

Brother Wang led Yan Qingzhu to the reception room and then prepared to boil water for tea. Yan Qingzhu frowned, sat on the sofa, and idly flipped open a proposal sitting on the table.

“Brother Wang, take a break,” Yan Qingzhu flipped through a few pages and looked up at the busy man. “We’re old acquaintances; don’t be so formal.”

“And since we’re old acquaintances, why not just take me directly to the Boss’s office?” Yan Qingzhu teased, her eyes scanning the interior decor. A traditional ink wash painting of mountains hung on the wall; it was indeed her father’s taste—it had never changed.

The charm was vivid; ink strokes outlined the rocks in layers, sparse yet well-arranged. Trees were scattered as accents, swaying as if a gust of wind had also startled the mountain birds.

When she was small, her father loved Chinese painting and calligraphy and asked Yan Qingzhu to choose one as a hobby. Yan Qingzhu chose calligraphy. Her father had asked her why, and she said:

“Daddy knows Chinese painting, and I will know calligraphy. Daddy will make the painting, and I will write the inscription. Isn’t that perfect?”

As a child, she was always praised for her excellent calligraphy. She would leave ink on the floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room. The world was her ink and paper; when the sun reflected through, the shadows of the characters fell onto the marble floor, creating another kind of beautiful scenery.

Even the inscriptions on the Chinese-style wedding invitations for her father’s friends had been written by Yan Qingzhu.

In the end, she had broken her word. Ever since her parents divorced, she had thrown all her paper and ink into a discarded cardboard box along with her original intentions.

“A-Qing, you’re making it hard for me. The Boss has been in a bad mood these past few days.” Brother Wang placed a glass of water in front of Yan Qingzhu. “How would I dare to make a decision on my own?”

“The important thing is that the meeting room is close to the reception room. The Boss usually takes a break here before meetings.”

“A-Qing, it’s hard on you but stay here for now. I have a lot of things to take care of.” Brother Wang hurriedly organized the documents, categorized them neatly, and rushed out the door.

Yan Qingzhu stifled a laugh, staring for a long time at the insulated container on the table. She had already decided: if she didn’t see that Old Man Yan, she would feed the food to the stray cats and dogs outside the company; she wouldn’t leave a single bite for him.

As her smile faded, Yan Qingzhu stood up and looked out at the brightly lit city lights.

If she had been that man’s child from the start, if she could have stayed in Lingyang—

Would everything have been different?

Whether it was educational resources or medical standards, Lingyang was superior to Chujiang. Once Yan Yu had local residency or moved here, her future would be immeasurable.

Yan Qingzhu’s fingertips traced the reflection of her face in the window. At this moment, she felt like punching herself.

She should have let Yan Yu stay here back then.

When forced to choose between her parents, Yan Qingzhu was hell-bent on staying in Chujiang alone, thinking the further away from her father, the better. Yan Yu had looked at their father as he reached out to take her hand. The naive Yan Yu had said those words firmly for the first time: “I want to live with Sister.”

Her father thought it was a childish joke and knelt down to say gently: “If you go with Sister, there won’t be any new toys.”

“Then I don’t want new toys.”

“There won’t be any limited-edition cards.”

“Then I don’t want limited-edition cards.”

“Then you won’t see Daddy anymore.”

Yan Yu’s brow furrowed instantly, her eyes welled up, and she bit her lip. How could a child know anything about choosing profit over harm? Yan Yu suddenly choked up and cried with a thick nasal voice: “But Sister will be all alone.”

Sister will be all alone.

At that time, Yan Qingzhu could have easily signed that agreement. But she stared at that tiny figure; the child was sobbing quietly, constantly wiping tears from her face. Yan Qingzhu lowered her eyes, not daring to let her breathing fluctuate, her pale fingers trembling slightly. In the room at that moment, everyone was silent, save for the crying of the second daughter of the Yan family.

No one knew what Yan Qingzhu was thinking then, and no one knew why Yan Yu had firmly chosen her.

Yan Qingzhu returned to the sofa, leaning back and pressing her arm against her forehead, her eyes closed to rest.

But if she let Yan Yu stay in Lingyang, would she be willing? If she told her the future was a broad, golden path, could she accept it?

In a daze, Yan Qingzhu heard footsteps. Thinking it was Brother Wang returning, she prepared to stand up. As she looked up, she saw a familiar figure.

Yan Changde.

After not seeing him for years, the man indeed looked more haggard; the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes had noticeably increased. His gaze was full of authority and heaviness, devoid of the softness of years past.

“Why are you here?” Yan Changde’s tone was stern, as if this were a place where Yan Qingzhu shouldn’t exist.

“Yan Yu said she felt sorry for you, Old Man, so she sent me to check on you.” Yan Qingzhu gave a shallow laugh. Her motion to stand slowed as she sat back down and took out the insulated container. “Don’t know if you’ve eaten yet, Old Man. Yan Yu made this specifically for you.”

Yan Changde remained standing there. Upon hearing Yan Yu’s name, his eyes trembled for an instant, yet his expression did not soften. He opened the container and found familiar tomato and egg noodles.

The soup and noodles were separated to prevent them from getting soggy.

“Haven’t seen you in so many years—why the sudden thought to bring me noodles?” Yan Changde poured the soup over the noodles and mixed them with chopsticks.

When they were young, the family had a tradition: their mother loved to make tomato and egg noodles for whoever was celebrating a birthday. Yan Qingzhu often heard her mother say that back then she didn’t know how to cook and could only make noodles; she never expected to actually win over that stubborn old man, her father.

When they were children, their parents were always away on business trips, but they would always reunite to eat noodles on birthdays. In the subconscious of Yan Qingzhu and Yan Yu, noodles represented family; they represented life.

Their father always reminded the sisters to eat the noodles while they were hot, otherwise they would get soggy.

“President Yan, you truly are a busy man with a short memory.” Yan Qingzhu’s lips lifted slightly as she glanced aside, her tone flat: “Happy Birthday, Dad.”

Yan Changde had just taken a slurp of noodles. Hearing Yan Qingzhu’s address, he suddenly paused. He chewed a few times and wiped the corner of his mouth with a napkin.

After many years, hearing that name again was like having long-binding shackles finally unlocked. A long-awaited light shone onto the damp, dark soil.

So that was it.

“How is Yan Yu doing now?” Yan Changde asked.

“Yan Yu got into the honors class in middle school. If she’s willing, she can aim for Lingyang No. 1 High School,” Yan Qingzhu answered.

“Does Yan Yu have anything she likes recently?”

“She’s been into equestrianism lately.”

“Yan Yu—it’s true I haven’t seen her in a long time.”

“Yan Yu cares about you a lot and worries about you too.”

For every sentence Yan Changde said, Yan Qingzhu gave an answer.

And so it went back and forth.

Yan Qingzhu never said how she was doing, and Yan Changde never asked about her situation.

But that was enough.

“Are you sure Yan Yu really made this?” Yan Changde took another slurp of noodles and asked her.

“You don’t believe me?” Yan Qingzhu countered.

“But the noodles are salty.” Yan Changde paused. “You made them, didn’t you?”

The air seemed to skip a beat, coming to a dead stop along with their breathing.

This time, it was Yan Qingzhu’s turn to be silent.

She thought she had already gained a heart strong enough to remain undisturbed by anything external. But fighting alone too many times inevitably leads to a complete collapse. Yan Qingzhu had forgotten: nothing in this world is born from a vacuum.

She remembered that as a child, her favorite thing was to joke with her father, saying things that were hard to grasp. She had even set up secret codes with him that only the two of them knew. Once, Yan Qingzhu had crawled into the bushes and her clothes got caught on burrs, so she hated everything with thorns.

But her father had asked her: “Do you know what a hedgehog’s belly looks like?”

Only later, as she grew up, did Yan Qingzhu realize the meaning of that sentence.

I will trust you infinitely—my subtle, shy, yet burning love.

“Why do you think I made them?” Yan Qingzhu shook her head, a trace of ease appearing as she looked at Yan Changde.

Yan Changde took another slurp of noodles. In all these years, he had never eaten tomato and egg noodles again, yet all those delicacies and seafood truly couldn’t compare to that bowl of tomato and egg noodles at home.

After all these years, longing had stripped away both reason and dignity. Yan Changde’s lips lifted slightly, his gaze landing on Yan Qingzhu, and he realized this child had long since become a poised and graceful young lady.

She still kept the long hair she liked, and a silver rose stud adorned her earlobe—the gift he had given her for her tenth birthday.

He had imagined this scene countless times: being able to talk with her elegantly again, every word a gem.

But Yan Changde knew that Yan Qingzhu was unwilling.

“Your mother and Yan Yu both like things sweet. You take after me; you like things salty.”

Yan Qingzhu’s eyes grew moist. She nodded with great effort. “Yes, I like things salty.”

Carrying a heavy sense of guilt, there was a force—something that made her strong, something that made her stubborn—that forced Yan Qingzhu to say those words.

“But… I am not your child.”

Perhaps the beginning of the story was destined to be a storm.