Hedgehog's Belly - Chapter 41

Chapter 41

Whenever she looked back on those few days of the Gaokao, Luo Mu’s heart would still give a sudden jolt, though she would gradually settle back into a sense of peace.

It was only when the admission notice from Lingyang Foreign Studies University was delivered into her hands that the dust finally settled.

During the Gaokao, the summer wind was scorching, and the sunlight shattered the shadows of leaves across the ground. The summer insects were boisterous, but the passion and vitality of eighteen-year-olds were more fervent still.

“Transparent pencil case, ballpoint pens, 2B pencils, and the eraser… check them all, don’t forget anything!” Qin Jiahui’s voice was steady as she repeated the items one by one, but her hand was trembling as she checked the stationery, unable to calm down for a long time. “And, and! The admission ticket and ID card! Don’t forget those!”

“Mhm, all set.” Luo Mu took a quick glance, and after confirming everything was correct, she nodded.

“To be honest, I’m a coward; I’ve been nervous for months—” Qin Jiahui sat in her seat, staring at the rotating ceiling fan. When the fan turned slowly, it made a “creak-creak” noise that was incredibly loud whenever she was memorizing texts, but soon, she wouldn’t have to hear it ever again.

“It’s normal.” Luo Mu rubbed her temples and looked up at the wall clock. The second hand ticked frame by frame in sync with her heartbeat. There was one hour left before the first session, Chinese Literature, began.

As Chujiang Tianzhong was a designated testing center this year, the senior students of Tianzhong were moved to the laboratory building not far from the examination rooms. The path from the laboratory building to the exam hall was in full bloom; the school had laid out red carpets early and set up temporary sunshades.

“That is one of the few great stages in life,” Luo Mu murmured, the corners of her mouth curling slightly and her features clear. This was the turning point she had awaited for years.

One of the few opportunities to twist the gears of fate.

“Candidates, please enter the examination hall in an orderly manner—” When the piercing bell rang, everyone felt a momentary cardiac arrest, their nerves tightening throughout their bodies. The broadcast announcement played, and Qin Jiahui checked her exam hall and seat numbers once more, whispering them to herself.

“Don’t be nervous. We will all have brilliant and multifaceted lives.” Luo Mu patted her shoulder, her smile relaxed. As they walked downstairs together, they could hear people nearby softly reciting classical prose.

We will all have brilliant and multifaceted lives.

The charm of youth is the unwavering belief that one will become someone extraordinary.

It will happen.

Luo Mu thought silently.

The moment she uncapped her pen and the tip of the gel pen touched the answer sheet, the gears of fate were already turning.

The exam hall was under full surveillance; the only sounds were the wind outside the window and the rustling of pens against paper.

At this moment, Luo Mu could hear no distractions.

She couldn’t even hear her own explosive heartbeat.

Just treat it as a test that couldn’t be more ordinary; it’s no big deal.

Once Luo Mu entered the “zone,” she flipped through the paper. It wasn’t too difficult—not as hard as the last mock exam.

“The examination has ended. Candidates, please stop writing—”

The bell rang again, and Luo Mu finally let out a slow sigh. She looked out the window and noticed the phoenix flowers were in full bloom, swaying with the joys, sorrows, and exhilaration of youth.

Once the beginning was over, the progress bar of the Gaokao story seemed to be set to double speed. During those three days of exams, the summer was a bit different from usual; the temperature dropped slightly, and the summer wind was cool, free of any restless emotions.

While preparing for the next day’s subjects, no one deliberately brought up the content or answers of the previous papers. Instead, at dusk when the sky was filled with burning clouds, they would look up, rub their hands, and discuss what to have for dinner.

During the subsequent exams, everyone gradually settled into the rhythm. Their moods were no longer as heavy or panicked as before; instead, there was a hint of secret joy.

The high school era concluded with the final bell.

“To hell with it, the Gaokao is finally over!”

“Holy crap, I can finally sleep for a full night!”

“The Grade Head put up a message board; go write the name of the person you like on it! It doesn’t count as ‘early romance’ anymore!”

In this noisy midsummer, may the youths continue to carry their passion and hope as they head toward the next, more distant journey.

Luo Mu was dragged to the playground by Qin Jiahui. The fluttering inspirational banners hadn’t been taken down yet, and the red ribbons and balloons drifted along with the students’ dreams. Youths dressed in pure white uniforms ran across the playground where fragments of the setting sun fell. The free-standing message board, which integrated the handwriting left by students during the hundred-day oath, stood at the center of the playground like a magnificent scroll. In the middle of the board, four massive characters were written in marker:

TIANZHONG IS AWESOME!

Luo Mu was amused, but her eyes were shimmering. She quickly let out a huff and wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes.

“A-Mumu, look here!” Qin Jiahui had managed to get a camera from somewhere and waved frantically at Luo Mu. When Luo Mu snapped her head around, the shutter clicked, freezing the moment.

Youth was frozen right there.

Late night enveloped Chujiang, and rain tapped against the window. The twenty-six-year-old Luo Mu had coordinated with Ji Rongshu beforehand, asking him to pack up all her belongings from the house in Nanming and send them to the hotel. It resulted in three large boxes. Luo Mu’s brow furrowed. She lit a sandalwood stick and sat cross-legged on the floor. Cursing in her heart, she began unboxing and organizing. She had intended to throw away useless items early on, until she came across a high school photo album. The first photo was of Luo Mu standing alone by the message board after the Gaokao.

It was the first time Qin Jiahui had used a camera; perhaps her technique was wrong and she hadn’t focused, resulting in a blurred image.

Luo Mu paused, her mind going blank, a sudden and strange sense of detachment washing over her. After a long while, she slowly rubbed her fingertip over the photo, her gaze lingering.

But youth really is blurred and hazy, just like the photo. Many times when she recalled high school, if it weren’t for others bringing it up or the reinforcement of the photo album, Luo Mu would find it fundamentally difficult to remember what had happened.

Luo Mu’s eyelashes flickered as she tied up her hair. She idly opened her phone and scrolled through her contacts, only to realize the last time she chatted with Qin Jiahui was two years ago—it was a link to a wedding invitation Qin Jiahui had sent.

It had already been that long.

“Qin Da-Ben,” Luo Mu saw the nickname she had given her in high school and couldn’t help but snort with laughter. It was because Qin Jiahui always said her nickname was “Da-Hui” (Big Hui), but once Luo Mu had instinctively called her “Da-Ben” (like the car, Big Benz). Qin Jiahui was so angry her cheeks puffed out, but she couldn’t win the argument, so after venting her frustration, she changed Luo Mu’s nickname to “Luo Ben-Ben” (Luo Silly-Silly).

But Qin Jiahui hadn’t fulfilled her dream, nor did she marry the person she wanted to marry.

Luo Mu opened the chat box, her gaze lingering on the emptiness for a long time. Her knuckles trembled with hesitation as she slowly typed a few words: “How have things been lately?”

Then she quickly hit the delete key, returning the input box to its original blank state.

Luo Mu tossed her phone aside, her face pale.

The world of adults is chaotic and busy; not disturbing someone is already a form of respect.

The person she once saw as her closest friend, the one who promised to always stand by each other’s side and accompanied her through the most difficult stretch of the road—those pains and those happinesses were all real and experienced—yet in the end, they still left the stage in a hurry.

It seemed accidental, but it was inevitable.

Yet Luo Mu would always remember her; she held a unique name in the annals of her youth.

Slowly, the phone vibrated, and a message popped up.

Q: Tomorrow afternoon, there’s a small Japanese porcelain trade exhibition in Lingyang.

Luo Mu stared at the word “tomorrow,” and after confirming it repeatedly, she fell silent.

The distance between Chujiang and Lingyang was over four hundred, nearly five hundred kilometers. She had just crossed the ocean from Japan, got off a plane, and rushed to this heiress’s birthday banquet. Her seat in Chujiang wasn’t even warm yet, and on the second day, she was expected to teleport to Lingyang. Luo Mu truly felt that person made decisions on a whim—her brain was definitely caught in a door.

I’m done for, Luo Mu cursed under her breath. How is this benefactor so hard to serve?

Ultimately, with a nervous heart, Luo Mu slowly typed a few words.

Lomo: You mean, you want me to go there with you?

A few seconds after sending the message, Luo Mu regretted it.

Q: ?

The opponent sent the Question Mark of Death!

Luo Mu’s entire body suddenly broke into a shiver.

I’m dead, I’m dead, I’m dead!

The benefactor is unhappy!

I’m so done!

Luo Mu suddenly felt cold sweat dripping down her back, her lips turning white. She had momentarily forgotten that the person on the other side of the screen was no longer the Yan Qingzhu from their student days who liked to joke with her, but Yan “Benefactor” Qingzhu.

Luo Mu closed her eyes in pain, pressed her hands together, and started muttering: “Calm down, calm down, think of a way…”

Three hundred thousand yuan isn’t something one gets easily.

Luo Mu struggled to think of how to reply, but the other party sent another sentence.

Q: The flight is at 9:30. I’ll pick you up at the hotel tomorrow at 7:00.

What did a humble worker do to deserve being served by the benefactor!

Angel benefactor!

After her emotions settled, Luo Mu carefully sent an: “Okay.”

Seeing that the benefactor sent no more messages, Luo Mu’s tense nerves finally relaxed. She collapsed onto the floor. The warm lights of the hotel shone down, creating rings of light in her vision—hazy and dizzying. At some point, she let out a long sigh.

She stayed calm for a long time.

At eighteen, she was convinced she wouldn’t be bound by life, that she wouldn’t be like those boring adults rushing and compromising for a living. She thought time would smooth over all regrets and insecurities, only to find in the end that it was just a worldly excuse.

Time is not the antidote, but the antidote is hidden within time. One must fall, struggle in pain, and tear oneself apart to understand the truths of this world.

Luo Mu complained to herself; back then, she thought everything would be fine once she got into university.

She thought everything would be fine once she became successful.

She really did have some issues back then.

After lying there for who knows how long, Luo Mu felt a chill and slowly sat up. She looked at the items she hadn’t organized yet, feeling a sense of irritability.

Those were things she had cleared out from Nanming—things that belonged to her and her alone.

The empty hotel room was illuminated by warm light, quiet and soft. Luo Mu stared blankly at the three cardboard boxes, and she suddenly realized—

She had no home.

From now on, Chujiang was just a temporary residence; it was no longer where she belonged.

These were all her choices. She wouldn’t complain, and she couldn’t blame anyone.

“It’s pretty good.” Luo Mu used her hands to push off the floor, stood up and stretched. Her gaze landed on the floor-to-ceiling mirror not far away; in the mirror, there was a smile on her face.

“I’m free.”

The temperature difference between inside and outside caused a thin mist to form on the window. The entire city was enveloped in a curtain of rain, and the scent of sandalwood diffused, making the room feel exceptionally peaceful and mild.

At eighteen, Luo Mu’s dream was to be loved and to be saved.

Years later, at twenty-six, Luo Mu’s dream was to love and to save.

In a daze, the words she had said to Qin Jiahui before the Gaokao at eighteen suddenly surfaced.

We will all have brilliant and multifaceted lives.

Naive, yet firm.