Hedgehog's Belly - Chapter 31

Chapter 31

When Luo Mu dragged her luggage and pushed open the front door, her pupils trembled slightly. A Taoist priest in yellow robes stood in the living room, chanting incantations, while her father stood to the side with his hands crossed in front of him, his expression solemn.

Luo Mu frowned, watching the scene quietly from the entryway. Only after the priest had left did Luo Zhicheng’s expression slowly relax. He finally noticed Luo Mu standing to the side. Grinning, he waved her over and said, “I invited this master here at a great cost. He’s a rare find!”

Luo Mu said nothing, sitting down on the sofa to boil water for tea.

“I also heard people say there’s a very potent kind, from some country…” Luo Zhicheng began to laugh wantonly, but Luo Mu suddenly looked wrong. Her lips were deathly pale, and her trembling knuckles couldn’t lift the teacup. She glared at him fiercely.

“Don’t you dare resort to supernatural forces and chaotic spirits! Be careful of the backlash and retribution!” Luo Mu spoke through gritted teeth, knowing that the gods are fearsome and must not be disrespected. If one sought out strange and wicked paths out of their own greed and fear, it would be a true betrayal of their original intent.

“No matter how much wealth one seeks, one must walk the righteous path,” Luo Zhicheng sighed. “I know.”

Luo Mu gripped the hem of her clothes tightly, her muscles spasming slightly; she was too frightened to snap out of it for a long time.

“Did you pray at the temple in Lingyang this time?” Luo Zhicheng asked. “Did you find out anything?”

Luo Mu understood Luo Zhicheng’s meaning; the man was trying to fish for information from her.

Luo Mu poured the tea leaves into the lidded bowl and added hot water. Her face was calm, and her tone was unhurried as she said, “I don’t know.”

“It’s just as well that you don’t know.” Luo Zhicheng stood up, casually taking the tea Luo Mu had just brewed. “I remember your previous teacher saying you would meet a benefactor in your life. I wonder if that’s true or false.”

Luo Mu watched the steam rising from the tea. “If it’s true, then it’s truly lucky. If it’s false, there’s no harm in hearing it for entertainment.”

“You certainly are optimistic.” Luo Zhicheng took a sip of tea. “It’s rare to see you like this.”

Luo Mu lowered her eyes and let out a cold laugh, her voice faint as a thread. Her gaze fell on Luo Zhicheng, her tone revealing a hint of mockery.

“I’ve grown up wild on my own for so many years, yet you didn’t even spare me a glance. Only after that house was demolished and you got the money did you remember you had a daughter.” Luo Mu’s flat tone was terrifyingly calm, as if she were narrating someone else’s story without emotion. “If I weren’t optimistic, I’m afraid I would have worried myself into a sickness.”

“And if I really did get sick, you wouldn’t care anyway.” Luo Mu smiled faintly.

Hardship would never crush her; she didn’t even quite believe the talk about meeting a benefactor.

She wanted to lick her wounds in solitude, to struggle through despair, and to face the unknown with blood dripping from her hands.

This was her persistence.

Luo Zhicheng did not fly into a rage; instead, he laughed heartily.

He knew exactly what his daughter was complaining about.

“You certainly know me well.” Luo Zhicheng refilled the tea. “In every aspect, you can’t compare to him.”

Luo Mu’s fingertip rubbed the teacup; she knew the person Luo Zhicheng was talking about was Ji Rongshu.

To say she wasn’t disappointed would be a lie. During the most confused and lost years of her childhood, no one had saved her. She had held back tears and suppressed her voice all along the way, stumbling through her helpless past. She had naively thought that if one day the man in front of her looked at her even once more, it would be worth it.

But when she bravely looked up, she saw that man holding that child’s hand, paving a bright and brilliant life for him, telling him that all his wishes could come true. That child didn’t need to eat red rice cakes, didn’t need to wait day after day for a relative’s unknown return, and didn’t need to live in fear and constant tension.

He didn’t need any of it.

Luo Zhicheng narrowed his eyes and lamented in a low voice, “Even with the help of a benefactor, you still can’t compare.”

Luo Mu drank the tea in her cup in one gulp. The tea leaves had steeped for too long; they tasted astringent and bitter on the tip of her tongue, a sourness that spread through her nerves to her brain. After a long daze, she finally nodded and said meaningfully, “Yes. Thank you for your guidance, Father. I understand.”

Luo Mu lowered her eyes. Even without the help of a benefactor, Luo Mu intended to live this life with grandeur.

“I must get the cloze test entirely correct for the finals!” Ye Nanqiao pulled out a large specialized exercise book and vowed aloud.

Suddenly, Yan Qingzhu snatched it away, laughing and teasing her: “How come I never hear you say you’ll get the reading comprehension entirely correct?”

Yan Qingzhu flipped through the exercises Ye Nanqiao had done before; the accuracy had indeed improved quite a bit. She smiled at Luo Daier. “Sister Daier has put a lot of work into you, hasn’t she?”

Ye Nanqiao frowned, originally intending to scold her in a huff. In a daze, she caught sight of the red string bracelet on Yan Qingzhu’s right wrist. It had a nice luster and looked brand new.

“Yan Qingzhu!” Ye Nanqiao was suddenly shocked, making Luo Daier beside her jump as well. “How are you already ‘claimed’ by someone?!”

“Are you okay?” Yan Qingzhu looked at the idiot in front of her with a face full of disdain.

Yan Qingzhu examined the red string; it was plain and unremarkable, no different from an ordinary red string.

“Don’t listen to her nonsense.” Luo Daier took a sharp breath and blinked to regain her composure. “The meaning is different in every place; don’t listen to her babbling.”

Yan Qingzhu didn’t understand what the two of them were talking about, raising her left eyebrow slightly in confusion.

Luo Daier was from Chujiang, and Chujiang had a strong belief in local religions; she knew a bit about them.

“The red string tied to the hand can ward off disaster.” Luo Daier recited a nursery rhyme from her childhood, saying unhurriedly: “That’s a major characteristic of Chujiang children’s youth.”

“Ah, so that’s it. I thought she was ‘taken’.” Ye Nanqiao murmured disappointedly, tugging at the red string on Yan Qingzhu’s wrist to observe it.

After the commotion died down, Yan Qingzhu sat back in her seat. Luo Daier’s gaze turned heavy, and she warned her seriously.

“The red string is for safety, but it isn’t useful every single moment.”

“Of course, I know it’s just for peace of mind.” Yan Qingzhu smiled faintly and patted her shoulder. Her features were refined and her tone relaxed: “What difficulty is there that I can’t handle?”

“There is a custom in Chujiang: children go to the temple to pray. If a premonition of misfortune is sensed, a red string is tied to the wrist.” Luo Daier knew that Yan Qingzhu wouldn’t be satisfied until she hit a wall, so she let the words die at her lips and finally waved her hand to let it go.

“You should still be careful.”

“Why are you suddenly being so mystical?” Yan Qingzhu frowned, then smiled faintly. “I remember you didn’t believe in this.”

Luo Daier said nothing, her gaze as cold as frost.

For the next month, Yan Qingzhu didn’t expect life to go so smoothly. She was never picked for random spot-checks in class, she managed to buy the very last bottle of sugar-free Coke at the snack shop, and she hit green lights all the way home.

At that moment, Yan Qingzhu almost believed the red string was working.

“Holy crap, there’s one more spot for the Chemistry Competition—why don’t you want it? If you win a prize, there’s a good chance you’ll get into the Huahai University independent recruitment!” Ye Nanqiao cried out in shock when she repeatedly learned that Yan Qingzhu had given up the spot for the Chemistry Competition.

“Huahai is too far; I’m a mama’s girl.” Yan Qingzhu shook her head and smiled at her, using a random excuse to talk nonsense.

Yan Qingzhu’s gaze was never on Huahai, even if that was the dream of every Tianzhong student.

She knew all too well what she wanted. She wanted to stand tall in the city of Lingyang, and she wanted to pave a broad and bright road for her sister with integrity.

“Isn’t Huahai better? Even though Lingyang University is good, but…” Ye Nanqiao tried desperately to explain, but her lips faltered, and she ultimately swallowed the words she wanted to say.

Yan Qingzhu saw through her thoughts, and a smile appeared on her face.

“Sister Daier wants to apply to Huahai Medical University, and you want to go to Huahai too, right?” Yan Qingzhu showed a hint of arrogance, exposing her without concealment and speaking bluntly: “But the childhood friend squad can’t be tied together forever.”

Because life doesn’t always go as planned, many people are only meant to accompany you for a segment. Those fleeting connections have already been marked at some moment in life. As time passes, the appearances of some people become fewer and fewer.

Suddenly, Ye Nanqiao’s voice trembled slightly. She slowly lowered her head and paused for a long time before saying, “We can’t?”

The end of her sentence was fragile, like debris falling after a heavy blow, scattered by the wind.

“We can’t.” Yan Qingzhu’s gaze was firm, with no room for hesitation.

Yan Qingzhu knew the temperament of the girl in front of her—steeped in love and wealth from childhood, she couldn’t bear the hardships of the world, and she found even a destined departure difficult to accept.

But she also understood Ye Nanqiao well. That child’s emotions came and went quickly. After being depressed for a few days upon learning that Yan Qingzhu wanted to go to Lingyang University, she rallied again and returned to her usual boisterous self. Only Luo Daier knew that Ye Nanqiao had hidden in a small cubicle in the library to sigh secretly.

When a destined separation is known, every meeting becomes a countdown.

“Are you sure?” The class advisor asked Yan Qingzhu more than once. “This might be the closest you’ll ever get to Huahai.”

“Yes,” Yan Qingzhu nodded. “I’m used to Chujiang; running off to the North would make me miserable.”

“Lingyang University is good, but for you, it truly is a waste.” The advisor frowned, looking over Yan Qingzhu’s past grades with a solemn face. “You should have a better choice.”

“Lingyang is the best choice, it’s not a waste.” Yan Qingzhu tilted her head back, staring at the wall clock in the office as she usually did. She watched the time tick away second by second.

She knew very well that she couldn’t run off to the North alone, at least not before her sister reached adulthood.

That was one of the few times she was so unwavering.

“Then what do your parents say?” The advisor looked at her, thinking to have her relatives sway her.

Yan Qingzhu burst out laughing, lowered her head, and whispered, “I’m an illegitimate daughter; no one can control me.”

A thing that cannot be brought to light.

Some pains cannot be escaped.

“Teacher, guess what? Both my parents ran off, leaving me alone to raise my underage sister.” Yan Qingzhu smiled faintly, her tone sending a chill through the air. “Whether I have a future or not, I don’t care at all.”

The advisor was momentarily stunned, then pretended to be calm, smoothing the hair on his forehead. Holding a red pen and preparing to grade homework, he stammered, “This is your choice. You’d better think about it seriously.”

The corners of Yan Qingzhu’s mouth lifted slightly. She gave a slight bow and walked out of the office. Just as she stepped out the office door, a familiar figure appeared in her peripheral vision.

“Did you hear?” Yan Qingzhu shoved her hands into her school uniform pockets and glanced sideways at the person with a cynical look.

Liu Jie was trembling, but Yan Qingzhu lightly patted his shoulder, the red string bracelet on her wrist swaying with the movement.

Yan Qingzhu tilted her head back, not meeting Liu Jie’s eyes, and said indifferently and casually: “If you heard it, you heard it.”