Hedgehog's Belly - Chapter 32

Chapter 32

When Yan Qingzhu returned home after evening self-study, her head was groggy. Looking up, she saw the clock pointing exactly to eleven. A single light remained on in the living room, and a bowl of freshly made egg soup sat on the warming plate on the table.

Pressing her knuckles against the wall of the ceramic bowl, Yan Qingzhu guessed it had been heated not long ago. Shedding her coat, she headed upstairs, only to find her sister’s bedroom door wasn’t fully closed.

Yan Qingzhu pushed the door open slowly, fearing she might wake her.

“Sister?” Yan Yu lay in bed, the bedside lamp still flickering with a weak light, her voice laced with a hint of raspiness.

Seeing Yan Qingzhu, Yan Yu sat up and beckoned her inside.

“Can’t sleep?” Yan Qingzhu sat beside her, rubbing her head. Her gaze was filled with pity and affection, treasuring her like a precious object. “If you don’t sleep, you won’t grow tall; you’ll be like your Sister Muzi.”

Yan Qingzhu adjusted the bedside lamp to a dimmer setting, the warm light reflecting on her face. The overlapping of light and shadow created a sense of hazy beauty.

“If I go to Lingyang No. 1 High School, what will happen to you, Sister?” Yan Yu curled into her sister’s embrace. Yan Qingzhu could hear the child’s faint nasal tone, sensitive and tinged with a trace of fear. “You have to go to university, and later you’ll work, get married, have your own family…”

Yan Qingzhu felt Yan Yu trembling. She rubbed her sister’s head, comforting her gently: “Then Yan Yu will also go to university, work, have someone she likes, and have her own life.”

“How wonderful that will be.” Yan Qingzhu narrowed her eyes slightly, drawing out her last word. In that instant, a flicker of reluctance actually crossed her heart.

“In the future, I’ll get to see Yan Yu becoming herself with pride and glory.”

Yan Yu had been sensible since she was small. She always took Yan Qingzhu’s teachings to heart and never rebelled against her.

But—

Yan Qingzhu’s brows furrowed. She truly didn’t want her sister to be this well-behaved.

Luo Mu was the opposite; for every sentence Yan Qingzhu said, Luo Mu had a retort. She would disdain her boring jokes, get angry, and fight back. Beneath that calm facade, she lived as a hedgehog that could bristle at any moment.

But she was always being herself.

Not someone’s daughter, not someone’s lover—she was simply herself.

Yan Yu’s nose stung, but she couldn’t find the words, so she just lay in her sister’s arms, feeling the warmth. After a long while, she noticed the sudden appearance of the red string bracelet on Yan Qingzhu’s wrist.

“Sister, do you believe in this stuff?” Yan Yu’s voice was soft as she tugged at the red string.

“I don’t. But it was given to me by someone very important,” Yan Qingzhu replied in a low voice.

Yan Yu smiled faintly and said without concealment: “Is it Sister Muzi?”

Yan Qingzhu hooked her nose with a knuckle. “You really aren’t giving me any face, are you?”

After a few casual words, Yan Qingzhu tucked Yan Yu in, turned off the light, and let out a sigh of relief only after the door was closed.

Returning downstairs, she sipped the egg soup while scrolling through her phone.

She searched on the navigation app: Distance between Lingyang No. 1 High School and Lingyang University.

110 kilometers.

Yan Qingzhu stared blankly at the result. She couldn’t help but lament that this distance was still a bit too large of a span.

Suddenly, a message popped up.

lomo: Is everything going smoothly lately?

Yan Qingzhu couldn’t help but smile. A rush of joy hit her, preventing her from feeling the worry of the person on the other side of the screen.

Q: Better than ever. The cafeteria auntie gave me a huge scoop of sweet and sour pork ribs today—the kind where her hand doesn’t shake.

Luo Mu laughed while staring at the screen and slowly typed three words: That’s good then.

Q: All thanks to the bracelet Sister Muzi gave me.

For a long time, Yan Qingzhu didn’t receive a reply. Perhaps because there was no topic left, Yan Qingzhu typed another paragraph into the input box.

Q: Does Sister Muzi have a target university yet?

Finally, the notification sound pined.

lomo: Probably Lingyang Foreign Studies or Chujiang Foreign Studies, Japanese department. I’ll have to see my scores then.

Q: Not going to Huahai?

A sweating cat emoji immediately appeared, followed by Luo Mu’s explanation.

lomo: The cutoff is too high.

Yan Qingzhu instinctively snorted a laugh, then opened the navigation again.

Start: Lingyang Foreign Studies University. End: Lingyang No. 1 High School.

20 kilometers.

Yan Qingzhu paused, the smile on her face suddenly freezing. She used two fingers to zoom in on the route, her fingertip sliding along the path.

She then locked her screen and finished the last sip of egg soup in one gulp.

During the review week for final exams, instant coffee packets scattered across desks were a common sight. Luo Daier coughed softly; before Yan Qingzhu went to get water, she handed her a packet of cold medicine.

“Help me mix this with hot water.” Luo Daier’s voice was hoarse, mixed with a heavy nasal tone.

“If it’s this serious, you should go to the hospital, Dr. Luo.” When she returned with the water, Yan Qingzhu frowned and placed the thermos on her desk. “A physician cannot heal themselves.”

Yan Qingzhu knew she wanted to go to Huahai Medical University so badly, but she always demanded too much of herself—so much that there was no way back, to the point of using all her effort to gamble on a single future.

“Sister Daier, you’ll get sick if you keep pushing like this.” Ye Nanqiao stood up and narrowed the window, placing a hand on Luo Daier’s forehead, only to find she had a slight fever.

“I still haven’t figured out that lab question…” Luo Daier’s face was flushed and her eyes bloodshot. She pushed the approaching Ye Nanqiao away.

Ye Nanqiao was also stubborn. She propped her up and instinctively yelled: “Figure out what! Stop it!”

“Don’t mess with me!” Luo Daier’s head spun as she screamed that sentence with all her strength.

Ye Nanqiao: “Luo Daier, if you keep this up, I… I’m going to copy your English answers!”

Suddenly, the room went silent. Luo Daier froze, then narrowed her eyes and said fiercely: “Say that again?”

Standing to the side, Yan Qingzhu couldn’t help but burst into a laugh.

In the end, Luo Daier couldn’t win against Ye Nanqiao and agreed to take the afternoon off to see a doctor. When she returned, she had an indwelling needle in the back of her hand.

“You still have a year and a half. Don’t work yourself to death,” Yan Qingzhu said while flipping through scratch paper, reminding her in passing.

Luo Daier blew on the steam from her thermos, her voice much clearer: “It’s fine.”

Cold air moved in; the wind in Chujiang was strong, and temperatures plummeted. Many teachers reminded students to take care of their bodies and not to burn out, especially during the final exam sprint.

On Saturday afternoon, Yan Qingzhu received another message.

lomo: Don’t rush off after school, I have something for you.

When Yan Qingzhu passed by Luo Mu’s classroom after school, the girl took a thermos and shoved it directly into Yan Qingzhu’s arms.

“The chicken soup I promised to brew for you earlier,” Luo Mu said, putting on a fleece sweater, her tone unhurried. “But it’s a bit on the salty side.”

“Why all of a sudden—” Yan Qingzhu asked, puzzled.

Before Yan Qingzhu could finish, Luo Mu looked her up and down and said casually: “You look pretty frail.”

Instant silence.

“Huh?!” Yan Qingzhu was stunned, thinking that while they didn’t see each other every day, this was a bit of an exaggeration.

“Remember to share it with your sister,” Luo Mu said, putting on her scarf. Her gaze was soft as she met Yan Qingzhu’s eyes. “I specifically went to Nanming at noon to get it.”

“The insulation is good, but it’s cold out, so it’s best to heat it up before drinking,” Luo Mu said. She suddenly went silent, turning cautiously toward Yan Qingzhu to probe: “Do you guys eat silkie chicken soup?”

“Yan Yu and I don’t have many dietary restrictions,” Yan Qingzhu replied calmly.

Luo Mu nodded: “That’s good then.”

That’s good then.

Luo Mu lowered her eyes. Recalling the words of that old woman in Lingyang had frightened her quite a bit. Luo Mu simply didn’t want to owe any favors; by being a bit nicer to the person in front of her now, she wouldn’t feel indebted. Since childhood, she had always heard stories of Lingyang temple prophecies coming true; if it were really true, how would she face Yan Qingzhu?

Her gaze landed on Yan Qingzhu’s right wrist; the red bracelet was still there.

That was good.

After learning that Luo Zhicheng wasn’t coming home, Luo Mu brought another pot of silkie chicken soup to a boil. The nanny had taken the week off; Luo Mu calculated that cooking three meals for the three of them wasn’t too complicated.

“It’s cold. Don’t let yourself get sick, or your dad will be worried about you.” Luo Mu placed a bowl of silkie chicken soup on the dining table, beckoning Ji Rongshu.

Ji Rongshu looked confused and asked with a laugh: “Isn’t he your dad?”

“Yeah, but he cares more about his son.” Luo Mu smiled, without a hint of sarcasm. After all these years, she was used to bickering with him; it actually seemed a bit interesting.

“True, but my mom cares more about her daughter.” Seeing this, Ji Rongshu mimicked Luo Mu’s tone.

Luo Mu remained calm, her lips twitching slightly: “That’s different.”

It was different, of course.

A child with a protected future and one without are not the same.

Luo Mu turned to lower the flame and suddenly heard the person call her name.

“Luo Mu,” Ji Rongshu paused, narrowing his eyes slightly. He spoke word by word with a hint of disbelief: “Have you lost weight?”

“If your eyesight is bad, ask your dad to take you to get it treated.” Luo Mu instinctively thought he was belittling her, and her temper flared up.

“No, oh—” Ji Rongshu couldn’t organize his words well, then explained: “I feel like you’ve been depressed ever since you got back from Lingyang.”

“Your whole being seems worried, like you’re covered in a layer of mist.” Ji Rongshu’s tone was so cautious it felt light.

Ji Rongshu was one of the few people who could see through Luo Mu.

Even though they were children of a blended family, he never deliberately targeted her. They had covered for each other when they both did something wrong, stolen lettuce planted by neighbors together, had water fights in the backyard that left the ground soaked, and sneaked snacks together before claiming in unison that mice had eaten them.

He was one of the few who understood Luo Mu’s quirks.

“You need to eat more. If you really get skinny, your stepmom will say I’m stealing your portions again.” Ji Rongshu put a chicken leg from his bowl onto a plate and pushed it across the table to Luo Mu.

He said “your stepmom,” not “my mom.”

She is your mother; you have a mother.

Luo Mu realized then that he never drew a line between “mine” and “yours.” Two children in one family are destined to compete for resources, including wealth and love.

But Ji Rongshu never cared about those things.

Luo Mu knew very well that he never competed because he had never lost those resources; naturally, he had nothing to fear.

But Luo Mu was different.

“I heard some things at a temple in Lingyang. I was quite shocked at first, but as time passed, it didn’t seem like much.” Luo Mu sat back at the table, pushing the plate with the chicken leg back to Ji Rongshu. She sighed, her tone sounding unnatural.

As soon as he heard the word “temple,” Ji Rongshu understood. Although he didn’t believe in gods, he respected Luo Mu’s thoughts.

Ji Rongshu still reminded her: “Be careful, okay? Don’t let them scam you out of your money.”

Luo Mu gave a faint laugh: “It won’t come to that. Don’t even think about scamming a cent from me.”

“Just be true to yourself.” Ji Rongshu looked up, watching Luo Mu calmly with a slight smile. His tone was flippant, but there was no hesitation: “As for those gods and fates, just let them be.”

“Just do what you think is right.”

Even if it wasn’t “correct,” it was the only thing they could think of at the moment.

The only way to save oneself.