Hedgehog's Belly - Chapter 42

Chapter 42

Inside the business class cabin of the airplane, Luo Mu was jotting down the itinerary in her notebook. The tip of her pen paused just after finishing the two characters for “Lingyang.” Her pupils were dull as she suddenly realized that the contract for the Ningzhou Qian-Tunnel tea manor project, a collaboration with Manager Wang, had not been signed yet.

If it wasn’t signed soon, she wouldn’t be able to get the money in the later stages!

Luo Mu bit her lip, her nerves instantly tightening like a taut rope. Her mouth twitched as she slowly shifted her gaze toward the person beside her. The worst-case scenario would be throwing away her dignity and begging the wealthy heiress for help.

As expected, a humble worker has no dignity.

“Yan Qing—” Luo Mu’s voice was tinged with panic, intending to discuss the matter with her.

Zhu—

But before the words could fully escape her lips, she realized the woman was wearing an eye mask, draped in a thin blanket, with one sleeve rolled up to the elbow as she propped up her head. Her slightly wavy long hair flowed over her chest, and her sharply defined jawline was clearer than Luo Mu’s own life plans.

Truly a beauty.

Luo Mu found it hard to look away, sighing inwardly.

The last time they had traveled back to Lingyang together was after Christmas in their sophomore year of high school. At that time, seventeen-year-old Luo Mu certainly couldn’t have guessed that the person she firmly believed would be like any other passerby—briefly appearing at a certain moment of growth before fading into the mists of time—would still be here.

But Yan Qingzhu hadn’t faded.

The name “Yan Qingzhu” had taken root and sprouted leaves in Luo Mu’s life. As the years passed, the vegetation grew lush, and white-feathered birds circled the sky. A vista of greenery stretched on and on, isolating all the rumors and noise.

Yet, because of a prophecy of fate, they had drifted apart. And because of that same prophecy, they had met again.

“What a wonderful person, what a pity she met me—” Luo Mu whispered with a hint of playfulness and self-mockery in her smile. Gradually, her gaze dimmed, and the corners of her mouth stiffened.

Luo Mu watched her quietly like that.

An untimely farewell, leaving Yan Qingzhu to face a hopeless predicament alone during her most difficult moment. Luo Mu didn’t know how Yan Qingzhu had torn herself into pieces over these years and stitched them back together, bit by bit.

For so many years, Luo Mu had never shown herself, never dared to face her. Anyone else would have hated her to the bone, never wishing to see her again in this lifetime.

How did such a proud person tolerate the mottled, surging rust left upon her heart?

Luo Mu couldn’t answer any of these questions.

Luo Mu truly wanted to make amends.

But perhaps she could never make amends in this lifetime.

After a long while, Luo Mu squinted and suddenly noticed a line of dense black characters tattooed on the inner side of the forearm Yan Qingzhu was using to prop up her forehead.

Are those words?

Are they numbers?!

Luo Mu’s eyes flickered, her brow furrowing in confusion. They didn’t look like a year or a date, nor did they look like meaningful numerical abbreviations.

They looked more like a random jumble of illogical digits.

She hadn’t expected Yan Qingzhu to have such a strange eccentricity.

Luo Mu didn’t understand, but she respected it. After all, they were adults—

Luo Mu was about to wave the thought away when a somewhat unrealistic guess flashed through her mind. She quickly turned her gaze back to her own seat, her lips turning pale and her shoulders trembling slightly. She stared blankly at the two words “Lingyang” written in her notebook.

What if that was a symbol of her beloved?

Does Yan Qingzhu… have someone she loves?

In a daze, Luo Mu felt the air stagnate.

Her heart pounded urgently, and even her gaze was trembling.

Was this avoidance?

After turning twenty, Luo Mu flew to Japan and lost contact with her. The only fragments of information were those she accidentally gathered while chatting with acquaintances. Regarding Yan Qingzhu’s subsequent life and relationships, Luo Mu truly knew nothing.

At twenty, they had indeed been together briefly. But it was so brief that before Luo Mu could even truly feel it, the story had come to an abrupt halt.

Thereafter, it was hard for Luo Mu to judge whether the seventeen-year-old Yan Qingzhu, the twenty-year-old Yan Qingzhu, and the twenty-six-year-old Yan Qingzhu were still the same person.

Luo Mu always felt that people change.

After leaving the airport, Yan Qingzhu had already arranged for someone to take the luggage to their residence, and then she headed to the exhibition with Luo Mu. Luo Mu followed behind her with small steps, observing her surroundings.

The small Japanese porcelain trade exhibition was not located in Lingyang’s central business district, but rather in a relatively quiet ancient building nearby. The exhibition hall’s decor and lighting were warm, simple, and primitive, carrying a strong Japanese folk style.

The glaze colors of the Japanese painted porcelain on many stands were vivid and heavy, the patterns delicate and precise yet exaggerated and bold, mostly dominated by rich decorative tones.

But Yan Qingzhu only spared a quick glance before walking forward without looking back. Luo Mu couldn’t guess what she wanted to do until Yan Qingzhu finally paused in front of an exhibition stand featuring muted Japanese tea sets.

Yan Qingzhu’s gaze was fixed on a set of mellow, deep black tea utensils. The full waistline and straight porcelain mouth of the matching tea bowls kept her gaze from shifting for a long time.

The faint printed relief and clear textures instead displayed a primitive, natural, and rugged charm. Her eyes were solemn, her brow slightly furrowed, like a late autumn night rain—cold and piercing.

Yan Qingzhu asked in English if she could touch them. The staff member at the stand was delighted, her smile radiant. She nodded excitedly and then began to frantically introduce the products to Yan Qingzhu.

As soon as the staff member spoke, it was laced with a heavy Japanese accent, making it sound quite awkward and difficult to understand. Standing to the side, Luo Mu frowned but forced herself to stay calm, looking up at Yan Qingzhu’s expression.

But Yan Qingzhu remained calm, rubbing the relief on the cup wall with her fingertip, unhurried and showing no sign of losing her composure. Her exquisite profile was particularly pleasing to the eye under the display lights, needing no embellishment.

Her innate calmness and scrutinizing nature had never been smoothed over by the secular world. She listened to the staff member’s introduction, nodding slowly from time to time to show her understanding.

Luo Mu marveled; she was indeed a woman seasoned in the business world—steady and dignified.

Truly cool.

After the staff member finished the introduction, Yan Qingzhu turned back to look at Luo Mu, her hands crossed in front of her. After a moment of thought, she tilted her head slightly toward Luo Mu.

She asked in a low voice: “What did the Japanese she just spoke mean?”

Luo Mu pursed her lips, fighting back a smile, doing her best not to laugh out loud.

“She was speaking English just now.”

The English with a heavy Japanese accent had indeed stumped her.

Yan Qingzhu’s pupils instantly filled with shock, and her entire body froze for a few seconds. Her smile solidified, and her earlobes instantly turned red. The corners of her mouth trembled, and then she turned her head and whispered a curse: “Holy crap—”

Suddenly, silence—

The staff member, thinking she had said something wrong, bowed repeatedly and apologized.

Luo Mu cleared her throat and naturally took Yan Qingzhu’s hand, staying close to her, only to realize that the woman’s palm was already sweaty.

Luo Mu asked the staff member about the basic details of the tea set in Japanese. The staff member’s panicked expression immediately relaxed, and she answered Luo Mu’s questions in Japanese.

At this point, the atmosphere returned to its original peace.

Yan Qingzhu looked down at the person beside her, who spoke eloquently and with wisdom. The girl who once had to lean against the wall to leave the rotating Japanese class was now communicating gracefully and generously with a foreigner, her gaze firm and resilient.

She was always being herself.

When the conversation ended, Luo Mu stood slightly on her tiptoes, looking up into Yan Qingzhu’s eyes. A faint, clear smile played on Luo Mu’s thin lips, her voice gentle: “Do you want to know what I’m thinking?”

Yan Qingzhu gazed at her calmly and nodded slowly.

“Compared to Chinese tea porcelain, Japanese tea porcelain is not as exquisite; or rather, it possesses a certain rustic quality.” Luo Mu’s gaze swept over the various Japanese porcelains on the stand before landing on one of the tea bowls. It had simple, primitive carved flowers and a rich, creamy white glaze, delicate and mellow. Luo Mu’s eyes were clear and moist as she looked back at her again.

“The simple and primitive shapes actually reflect a different aesthetic and national style.”

“The Japanese tea ceremony leans toward harmony, respect, purity, and tranquility. It is dignified yet delicate, tranquil yet not lacking in a leisurely air—it truly fits the traditions of the Japanese tea ceremony.” Luo Mu’s eyes were clear as she gestured for Yan Qingzhu to lean down a bit.

Luo Mu leaned close to her ear and whispered in a low voice: “However, I asked about the price. The markup is severe; with the added customs duties, shipping, and other costs, it’s not worth the price. If you like it, I’ll contact you from Japan to help you find one.”

Meticulous calculation was Luo Mu’s strength.

The warm breath made the back of Yan Qingzhu’s ear itch. She looked back at her, her left eyebrow slightly raised, her cunning gaze fixed on Luo Mu as she spoke with a hint of playfulness: “Do you think I like it?”

As expected of a benefactor—the discussion was about whether she liked it, not about the money.

Luo Mu’s pupils froze for a second as she realized she had been played. She let out a sigh, then pushed her away with her hand, saying crossly: “Your eyes were practically glued to it.”

The exhibition wasn’t over yet. Luo Mu looked out the window at the sweltering and oppressive feeling unique to Lingyang’s rainy season. But just as they stepped out of the exhibition entrance, the drizzling rain suddenly turned into a downpour without any warning.

The rain masked the city’s glitz and glamour, replaced only by the roar of water washing over everything. Dark clouds covered the Lingyang sky, and the rows of streetlights reflected light in the rain, breaking and rejoining in the rippling season.

Luo Mu couldn’t help but frown, watching the rain wash the red tiles and drip onto the ground.

The exhibition was not far from the business district, but it was located on an ancient street. Combined with the evening rush hour, calling a car was truly impractical.

Luo Mu knew it was the rainy season in Lingyang, so she had prepared an umbrella before leaving and had even prepared one for the benefactor. But the drainage in the ancient street wasn’t very good; the road was flooded, and she feared that stepping into it would truly cause her to lose her grace.

Moreover—

Luo Mu gripped the umbrella in her hand tighter, her mind going blank. Her gaze slowly fell on the high heels she had recently spent a fortune on.

I’m so done. One step in there and they’d be ruined.

“It’s the rush hour now. Brother Wang said the traffic coming here is completely deadlocked.”

Yan Qingzhu slowly put down her phone, unhurried, her emotions unaffected by the heavy rain. She let out a sigh, her expression showing a hint of laziness: “It’s quite close to where I live. Why don’t we… walk back?”

Holy mother of—!

Yan Qingzhu, do you know what you’re saying?!

Luo Mu was stunned, feeling the muscles in her face twitching. She looked up at her, her eyelashes trembling; several times she wanted to speak, but the words died in her throat.

“Hmm?” Yan Qingzhu was puzzled, and the two couldn’t help but lock eyes.

After a long time, Luo Mu clutched the hem of her coat and struggled to squeeze out a few words: “These shoes can’t touch water…”

As soon as Luo Mu finished speaking, Yan Qingzhu murmured: “Do you mean—you want me to carry you back on my back?”

Luo Mu was startled and took a few steps back, her face pale as she instinctively refused: “No need!”

How could she let the benefactor carry her home?!

How could she take advantage of the situation like that?!

Where was the justice in the world?!

Yan Qingzhu looked down at the woman’s embarrassment, yet she was unusually calm. her gaze was as gentle as spring pond water, the corners of her mouth slightly tilted.

Amidst the light mist in the air, Luo Mu realized that the person before her had a sense of distant detachment, having become different from before—unpredictable.

If it were the seventeen-year-old Yan Qingzhu, she would have certainly laughed until she cried and teased her in all sorts of ways.

But now, Yan Qingzhu didn’t do that; she only smiled faintly, composed like a gentle breeze.

The rain poured down, uninhibited and reckless, drenching the city and battering all emotions into fragments.

After a long time, Yan Qingzhu took a deep breath, her voice low and raspy. After a moment of thought, she spoke nonsensical words with a serious face: “Why don’t we just take off our shoes and walk back?”

“Huh?” Luo Mu hadn’t reacted yet. she didn’t expect the woman backed by two large family enterprises to say something like that.

“The rain definitely won’t let up now,” Yan Qingzhu withdrew her gaze, looking into the distance before turning back to Luo Mu and asking in a low voice: “If you don’t want to, it’s fine—”

Luo Mu stomped her feet repeatedly and shouted excitedly: “I do!”

I’ve been thinking that from the beginning!

In that second, Luo Mu suddenly felt that only Yan Qingzhu could understand her weirdness.

One was an absurdly stupid idea.

The other was a near-crazy execution.

“Let’s go.”

Yan Qingzhu gave her a look, and together with Luo Mu, she picked up her high heels in one hand, held the umbrella in the other, and dashed into the roar of the heavy rain. Splashing droplets soaked their pant legs. Yan Qingzhu turned back to face her, and in that moment, she laughed uninhibitedly.

With every step, the water on the ground splashed up, followed by a surge of excitement in her heart. Yan Qingzhu walked ahead, holding the umbrella, frequently looking back with a bright laugh that couldn’t drown out the noisy rain.

“I’ve actually wanted to do this for a long time!” Yan Qingzhu shouted loudly, her long hair fluttering behind her, the ends already soaked by the rain, yet her smile was bright and profound.

She had actually wanted to do this for a long time.

Because before this, she certainly couldn’t.

In her early twenties, the dream was cut short, frozen in the night.

That night, without any preparation or warning, the sky just collapsed. With cold sweat, a bloodless face, and lips bitten to a bloody pulp, she painfully bid farewell to her former, naive self.

On that day, numerous gazes suddenly gathered, noisy and overbearing, looking at Yan Qingzhu. Everyone was expecting her shame and lack; everyone was waiting to spit on her.

For someone forced into the whirlpool of adult life, there is no ceremony.

Few people passed through the ancient street during the rainy season; the rain washed away the withered branches and leaves. At this moment, the two of them felt as if they had hidden away in a world unknown to anyone, where there was no worldly wisdom, no fawning over the powerful, and no groveling.

At twenty-six, in this second, Yan Qingzhu was no longer the eldest daughter of the Yan family who had achieved success at a young age and inherited the family business, nor was she the “Big Sister Yan” who had nurtured the geniuses of the academic world.

She was herself.

What is faster than the speed of light? Time itself.

Luo Mu gazed at her, almost thinking they were both still seventeen.

“You’re twenty-six already, aren’t you being childish?” Luo Mu replied in the same manner, carrying her high heels, but the corners of her mouth couldn’t stop curving upward.

That was also Luo Mu’s thought; it was hard to say who was more childish.

“You’re twenty-six already; in the blink of an eye, you’ll be sixty-two!” Yan Qingzhu laughed so hard she almost cramped.

Whether at seventeen or twenty-six, Yan Qingzhu never gave Luo Mu room to counter.

Her brow relaxed—a freedom that couldn’t be found in the fields of late autumn, a freedom that couldn’t be locked away by the vast mountains and seas. But this breeze and elegant bamboo that refused to submit to anything would eventually stay for a single forest.

Amidst the sudden and noisy sound of the rain, Luo Mu understood the meaning behind those words.

At this moment, Luo Mu deeply felt that the woman’s cunning and wild gaze was just as it had been back then.

As she looked up, everything felt like a lifetime ago.

It was as if they were still in Chujiang Tianzhong, still in their scorching seventeenth year.

In a daze, Luo Mu recalled flipping through Tagore’s poetry collection in the summer classroom during her freshman year.

“The years pass, yet it is always she, changing countless names and disguises, who shakes my heart in moments of deep sorrow and supreme joy.”

At sixteen, Luo Mu didn’t know what it meant.

Now, at twenty-six, Luo Mu suddenly understood.

The rain poured down, drenching, fluttering, and battering everything. Laughter and the sound of rain intertwined—it was one of the few moments in Luo Mu’s life where sorrow and joy met.

Please allow me to be idle for this moment and stay by your side.