Hedgehog's Belly - Chapter 30

Chapter 30

“Sister Muzi, you really aren’t sleepy at all, are you? Sleeping at two and waking at six.” Yan Qingzhu was panting slightly. For some inexplicable reason, she had been dragged by Luo Mu early in the morning to hail a taxi and head to a certain spot in Lingyang.

“Didn’t you book tickets for the afternoon?” Luo Mu handed Yan Qingzhu a bottle of water, checking the time on her phone screen. “Qiu Shuangyi told me that the incense at this ancient temple in Lingyang is very potent, so I wanted to come take a look.”

Luo Mu looked up, murmuring to herself: “If it comes true, I’ll come back here to fulfill my vow.”

“You even have to fulfill a vow for this?”

Yan Qingzhu frowned, forcing a faint smile, but upon seeing the other’s joyful face, her gaze turned to one of resignation.

Luo Mu looked up at her: “Didn’t you know?”

Yan Qingzhu shrugged her right shoulder, her tone peaceful: “Maybe because nothing has ever come true for me, so I don’t really believe in this kind of thing.”

The education Yan Qingzhu had received was never touched by faith.

Luo Mu froze for a moment, then gave a symbolic nod.

Unknown vines stretched across the red walls of the ancient temple, which bore fine cracks. The place was desolate and spacious; everywhere one looked, prayer slips wishing for success in exams were tied to ancient tung trees. Incense smoke swirled through the halls, accompanied by the melodious chanting of sutras.

Yan Qingzhu carefully observed Luo Mu’s every move. Seeing the girl step over the threshold, she was careful to step over it as well. Holding the incense in her left hand and lighting it with her right, she waited for the embers to catch before raising the incense high above her head to bow. Luo Mu folded her hands in prayer and bowed her head; Yan Qingzhu followed suit, closing her eyes and chanting silently.

Once they left the hall, Luo Mu let out a laugh, teasing her: “How are you so clumsy?”

“I truly do need Sister Muzi’s guidance.” Yan Qingzhu played along, looking toward the ancient tung trees in the distance where the slips were tied. The red fabric strips fluttered in the wind—the prayers of ten thousand families, the yearnings of the heart.

Yan Qingzhu stood still and watched for a long time, her eyes shimmering.

Seeing this, Luo Mu gave a faint smile: “Go take a look if you want. I’ll wait for you here.”

The corners of Yan Qingzhu’s mouth lifted, revealing a clear and bright expression. Her shoulder-length hair blew in the wind in a beautiful arc.

Once the girl had walked far off, Luo Mu sat quietly on a stone bench. The early morning breeze was gentle, mixed with the warmth of the early sun, making it quite comfortable.

Luo Mu gazed at the figure in the distance, her eyes clear. She had never imagined there would be someone who would go to such lengths to study her every detail, someone who would slow their pace, tell unfunny jokes, and clumsily learn her way of praying step by step.

To think that Luo Mu actually met such a person.

How lucky does one have to be for it to count as luck?

“Young lady.”

Suddenly, an elderly voice reached Luo Mu’s ears. Luo Mu whipped her head around to see a white-haired old woman sitting quietly on a wooden bench in the corridor, her expression serene.

“Elder, are you calling for me?” Luo Mu’s lips turned up slightly, her voice cool.

The old woman rubbed three copper coins in her hands, her eyes squinting into a smile.

“Someone is very much worth using as a chess piece.”

“What do you mean—” Luo Mu’s mind went blank, a cold sweat breaking out on her back. “Worth using as a chess piece?”

What disaster could there be that she couldn’t handle herself, that would require relying on someone else?

“Elder, whether it is a blessing or a curse, I accept it. I can bear it all; there is no need for others to suffer for me.” Luo Mu’s tone was calm, but her heart was unshakable.

Luo Mu believed she wouldn’t hide from any pain.

“This time it’s different.” The old woman smiled faintly, shaking her head. Her fingers waved a few times in front of Luo Mu, her tone flat but meaningful, making Luo Mu feel uneasy: “You, you are a ruthless girl; you have caused her quite a bit of misery.”

Luo Mu’s pupils dilated, not daring to let her breath falter. It was as if she understood the woman’s meaning in an instant.

She approached the old woman, squatting slightly, and asked in a low voice: “Elder, then do you know who is going to be my chess piece?”

This time, the old woman didn’t speak. She simply opened her eyes and smiled faintly, locking eyes with Luo Mu.

Luo Mu frowned, cold sweat drenching her back as she watched the woman with half-belief and half-doubt.

Suddenly, Yan Qingzhu called from the distance: “Sister Muzi, come quickly!”

Luo Mu looked back instantly. Yan Qingzhu was waving, her smile radiant. Luo Mu’s eyes trembled; she turned back to the old woman, her voice low and raspy, as she urgently blurted out a denial: “I treat her as a dear friend, how could I possibly harm her?!”

Even her voice was trembling and weak.

“Whose life, whose luck—these things are hard to say for sure.” The old woman slowly opened her eyes and looked at Luo Mu peacefully, her fingers constantly rubbing the copper coins, the corners of her mouth lifting slightly.

It was a powerful aura that suppressed her, leaving her with nowhere to turn.

Luo Mu’s lips turned pale as she slowly stood up. She looked back at the old woman once more and murmured: “I have my own fate for those hardships; others need not decide for me.”

With that, she turned and ran toward Yan Qingzhu.

“Run a bit slower, girl.” The old woman chuckled, then said flatly: “The road ahead won’t be easy to walk.”

The road ahead won’t be easy to walk.

“Yo, Sister Muzi.” Yan Qingzhu saw her approaching and pointed at one of the red prayer strips. “A lot of these are for next year’s college entrance exam students; they’ve all come to pray for their names to be on the golden list.”

Luo Mu’s eyes were vacant, her expression dazed, her gaze fixed on Yan Qingzhu. Yan Qingzhu noticed immediately, seeing right through her.

“Sister Muzi, are you unhappy?”

Luo Mu snapped back to her senses and looked up to meet the other’s eyes. The girl’s features were delicate, her skin smooth and flawless. Her right eyebrow was slightly raised, an inquisitive expression waiting for Luo Mu’s response.

“What did you just wish for?” Luo Mu looked at her, her expression indifferent. Yan Qingzhu guessed that she must be hiding something in her heart.

“I wished for many things.”

Yan Qingzhu tilted her head, her eyes darting around.

“Does Muzi want to know?” Yan Qingzhu lowered her head to ask, but didn’t give Luo Mu a chance to answer. “I want Yan Yu to grow up safe and healthy, and I want the people around me to have everything go smoothly.”

Luo Mu listened intently, finding it normal enough.

Yan Qingzhu paused for a long time, lowered her eyes, and said softly: “I also want Luo Mu’s wish to come true.”

Yan Qingzhu had once seen a passage in a book; strangely, she still remembered it: I was originally an atheist, naturally disbelieving in gods and ghosts. But even if my destiny is rugged and painful, I would kneel before the gods until my head bleeds to pray for a smooth path for your life.

“I told the gods that Luo Mu must always love herself.”

Yan Qingzhu’s words were like a heavy hammer smashing the boulder that had long weighed on Luo Mu, causing all her bravado and stubbornness to crumble.

At this moment, the only thing on the verge of breaking was Luo Mu herself.

Luo Mu looked at the person before her, her gaze steady, asking in a low, raspy voice: “Then what about Yan Qingzhu?”

“What happens to Yan Qingzhu?”

Yan Qingzhu knew what she meant—she was complaining that Yan Qingzhu’s wish didn’t include herself.

Yan Qingzhu froze, letting out a slight sigh, her smile somewhat stiffening.

She slowly bent down to meet Luo Mu’s eyes.

“Then, in Sister Muzi’s wish, is there no Yan Qingzhu?”

Yan Qingzhu’s gaze darkened, her aggrieved tone sounding like a child who isn’t loved yet begs for it. She frowned slightly, revealing a bitter smile, yet she seemed loath to part.

Luo Mu gazed at her own reflection in Yan Qingzhu’s eyes, her gaze unyielding, her face solemn. How was she supposed to answer the person before her?

What answer would be dignified?

Luo Mu averted her eyes, wanting to brush it off, but Yan Qingzhu straightened up, tidied her sleeves, and returned to her usual refined appearance.

“Just kidding,” Yan Qingzhu stretched, turning to look at Luo Mu, her jawline sharp, a faint smile surfacing in the depths of her eyes. “Sister Muzi must love herself forever.”

Loving oneself is the one subject worth learning for a lifetime.

On the high-speed train back to Chujiang, Luo Mu watched the buildings along the way, her gaze soft, taking in everything. To her, Lingyang felt like an unreal dream.

On the other side, Yan Qingzhu adjusted her business class seat to a comfortable position, rested her arm over her forehead, and frowned slightly with her eyes closed, looking exhausted.

“What is it?” Luo Mu leaned toward her, let out a snort, and laughed: “It seems you’re very tired.”

Yan Qingzhu waited a long while before letting out a long “Mm,” lacking even the strength to open her eyes.

In a daze, she heard Luo Mu say: “Give me your hand.”

Drowsiness surged over Yan Qingzhu. With her eyes closed and without thinking, she held out her right hand. In her stupor, she only felt the other person busy doing something with her wrist.

“What is this?” Yan Qingzhu struggled to lift her head, her vision blurry. She realized a red string was tied around her right hand, inlaid with a few gold beads engraved with the character for “Fortune.”

“A marriage thread.” Yan Qingzhu snorted, suddenly wide awake, her sleepiness gone. She said excitedly: “Sister Muzi is playing matchmaker for me.”

Luo Mu, annoyed by the noise, pinched Yan Qingzhu’s arm to signal her to be quiet.

“What is this idiot talking about?” Luo Mu pinched her temples; the other’s voice made her head ache. After a long while, she said composedly: “This is to keep you safe.”

Luo Mu remembered once envying other children who had silver bracelets, but she had never brought it up to her elders, knowing that not every wish could come true. But A-ma saw through her little thoughts and stayed up by the lamp to make her a red string bracelet. Only after taking her to the temple to pray for blessings did she put the red string on her hand.

At that time, A-ma smiled and told her that a red string could keep one safe.

Luo Mu frowned. She knew the other girl never believed in such things, but what if?

“Where did you buy this?” Yan Qingzhu examined the red string; the thread had a luster to it.

“Just at a random street stall. The vendor said ‘three times the refund if it’s fake’.” Luo Mu lowered her eyes and sighed. “So I took four of them.”

Yan Qingzhu looked shocked and said aggrievedly: “Re… really?”

Luo Mu said nothing, instead gazing at her unhurriedly, then gave a faint smile.

“Sister Muzi, don’t scare me,” Yan Qingzhu frowned, stammering.

Luo Mu didn’t look at her again, her tone soft as she left only one sentence: “Just wear it.”

Yan Qingzhu, be free and unrestrained; live as yourself.

Those hardships that don’t belong to her—she shouldn’t have to endure them.

During the long distance from Lingyang to Chujiang, although Yan Qingzhu said she would talk with Luo Mu, she ended up sleeping fitfully the whole way. Luo Mu draped a blanket over her, tucked it in, and pulled her arms inside. Tucking away the messy strands of hair on Yan Qingzhu’s forehead, she let out a slow sigh.

Truly too tired.

“Where would there be four? Such a dummy,” Luo Mu glanced at her and murmured softly.

That one red string bracelet was something Luo Mu had spent a long time braiding herself.

She had originally thought to give it to herself after praying for blessings in Lingyang.

And those few gold beads with the character for “Fortune” were left to Luo Mu by A-ma.

Luo Mu gazed at Yan Qingzhu’s sleeping face, blinked involuntarily, and laughed out loud.

Dear child, have another beautiful dream; don’t wake up too early.