Hedgehog's Belly - Chapter 43

Chapter 43

“Dry yourself with the towel first. Your luggage is in the guest room at the far end of the second floor,” Yan Qingzhu said, handing a white towel to Luo Mu. A hint of gentle moisture flickered in her eyes as she whispered softly: “Take a good bath and rest early. The temperature drops at midnight. There are clothes in the cabinet that Yan Yu wore during high school; they are all clean. Just take one to wear so you don’t catch a cold.”

Luo Mu sat on the sofa, took the towel, and whispered her thanks. Droplets of water still clung to the ends of her hair. Though she looked exhausted, she still had the energy for a silly grin. Having played too hard, her head felt a bit dizzy now.

“This is the stupidest thing I’ve done in my twenties,” Luo Mu said, tilting her head and rubbing her hair dry with the towel. Her tone was light, containing a faint, lingering trace of a smile.

The corners of Yan Qingzhu’s mouth lifted slightly as she said lazily, “Me too.”

“But it wasn’t quite enough!” Luo Mu looked up at Yan Qingzhu excitedly, her voice rising slightly before she hushed it again. Her eyes were clear and clean, like a child who had done something naughty but was still savoring the aftermath.

Yan Qingzhu mimicked her tone: “Me too!”

Luo Mu tilted her head, quietly gazing at the person in front of her. The other woman gazed back in the same manner.

Yan Qingzhu hadn’t changed much since their student days; her features remained cool and elegant. But at this moment, Luo Mu felt that her gaze was like autumn leaves trembling—purely feeling the cool breeze, clear and deep. What Luo Mu loved most was still the perfect transition from Yan Qingzhu’s brow bone to the bridge of her nose—elegant and delicate.

Whether she was Yan “Benefactor” Qingzhu or the Yan “Kindergarten Boss” Qingzhu she used to know didn’t seem to matter much anymore.

She was the twenty-six-year-old Yan Qingzhu, and that was enough.

Water vapor billowed, filling the bathroom. A droplet of water traced the line of her neck and slid into the curve of Luo Mu’s beautiful collarbone. Her eyelashes trembled slightly; it felt as hazy as a lingering, tender dream that hadn’t appeared in years—ethereal and graceful. Luo Mu lowered her head, her hand slowly bracing against the wall as she scrutinized herself.

Getting to this point, it was never just her alone who had been struggling in pain.

She didn’t dare recall how Yan Qingzhu had forced herself to endure these years.

How should she ask?

She had no right to ask.

On the shelf, there was a full set of bath products. Luo Mu pressed the pump of the body wash with one hand. A light, refreshing citrus fragrance filled the air; the middle notes mixed with the tartness of petitgrain, followed by the gentle, tranquil scent of white tea.

It was like a young girl looking up at the scattered stars of a summer night, listening alone to her own breathing and heartbeat. Her eyelashes flickered as she remembered a broken, unreachable dream of her youth.

Just like that, calmly, waiting for someone.

Someone who might never look back.

Luo Mu suddenly paused. She realized that was the scent Yan Qingzhu used to have at seventeen.

That unique, seventeen-year-old scent.

Whether it was the warm steam of the bathroom or her own exhaustion, Luo Mu felt her cheeks flush hot and her head grow heavy.

Her vision blurred, and the image of a female classmate in a white short-sleeved school uniform with a half-ponytail appeared. Her untied hair draped over her shoulders. The autumn sunset was crumbled into fine shadows, hidden in her clear eyes, painted by every stroke of romanticism. Her arm was covered in black ink scribbles that looked like ghost talismans from a distance. With a clear smile, she reached out her arm, inviting Luo Mu on the journey home.

The girl reflected in the sunset could grant the right to be loved.

That moment was the first time Luo Mu had the thought of truly wanting to understand this person.

In that moment, Luo Mu believed she would surely follow Yan Qingzhu.

The splashing of the water in the bathroom drowned out all emotions. Luo Mu couldn’t hear the fragility deep within her heart that was quietly swallowing her dignity.

Coming out of the bathroom, Luo Mu dried her hair with a towel. In a daze, she noticed the roses on the bedside table were blooming vividly, and a glass of warm milk sat beside them. She touched it with her fingertip; it wasn’t too hot, the temperature was just right. She instinctively checked her phone and found a new message.

Q: I thought about making ginger tea, but I was afraid you wouldn’t be able to sleep. So I made milk for you.

Luo Mu paused and glanced at the time: 11:45 PM. It was indeed quite late.

She slowly typed and sent:

“Thank you.”

She did indeed have a habit of being unable to sleep after drinking tea, so she never touched stimulating drinks at night. It was just that after living alone for so many years, few people remembered this.

Only Yan Qingzhu remembered.

Although it doesn’t snow in Lingyang in December, the cold night wind crept into her sleeves, stinging the skin and soaking into the marrow of her bones. Luo Mu couldn’t help but shiver, her fingertips turning white from the cold.

Remembering what Yan Qingzhu said, Luo Mu opened the guest room wardrobe. Everything was arranged neatly and orderly, with dried jasmine sachets hanging inside. Moving the jackets on the hangers slightly, her gaze fell on a familiar high school ceremonial uniform jacket, making it impossible for her to look away. Slowly, she made out the school badge: Lingyang No. 1 Middle School.

That’s nice, Luo Mu smiled faintly.

Yan Yu was truly not a bit inferior to her sister.

In Luo Mu’s impression, the Yan sisters had similar eyes, but very different personalities. Yan Yu was softer and more gentle than her sister, like an early autumn dream that hadn’t yet turned freezing.

Delicate and green.

Slowly, her fingertips stopped on a loose knit sweater. Luo Mu hesitated for a moment. The fabric was soft, and the vintage warm tones were composed and elegant, with a fluffy, plush feel. Luo Mu suddenly frowned, her breath catching for a few seconds, her lips trembling. After all these years, she was seeing it again.

She recognized it; it wasn’t Yan Yu’s jacket—it was Luo Mu’s own.

Time is always the most unfathomable mystery.

Her thoughts were dredged up from the depths of memory, returning to the unspeakable moments of age twenty—

“Mumu, here, here!” Qin Jiahui sat at a dining table, waving excitedly.

The hotpot restaurant was bustling with noise; Lingyang’s winter days usually saw an overflow of customers. This restaurant was located near the university town and was busy year-round.

Luo Mu tugged at her knit cardigan, placed her bag beside her, and focused her gaze on the person in front of her. Qin Jiahui had been admitted to a university in Lingyang that leaned toward science and engineering, but she had been reassigned to the Chinese Language and Literature major—a far cry from her French language dream. The only consolation was that their two schools weren’t far apart, allowing them to gather on weekends.

The lively atmosphere diffused, the aroma thick and steamy. Qin Jiahui could always find strange topics that just happened to catch Luo Mu’s interest. After a massive outpouring of words, Qin Jiahui took a sharp gulp of water and wiped the corner of her mouth with a tissue.

“I finally said it all,” Qin Jiahui said with a look of grievance, pouting as she complained: “No one at school listens to me talk about these things!”

Luo Mu propped up her head, calmly listening to Qin Jiahui’s rambling complaints.

“And what about you, Mumu? I heard you guys are working on an exchange student project?” Qin Jiahui shook her shoulders excitedly, a hint of anticipation in her eyes: “Do you have any plans?”

Luo Mu smiled faintly, put down the chopsticks in her right hand, and made a “three” gesture.

“Thirty spots?” Qin Jiahui inquired carefully.

Luo Mu’s face twitched as she laughed, slowly correcting her: “Three.”

“My— Oh my god, isn’t the competition extremely fierce?” Qin Jiahui’s pupils trembled as she froze in a daze, then she whispered tentatively: “Then, are you afraid?”

Luo Mu scooped a cooked shrimp ball from the pot and placed it in her bowl.

She looked at Qin Jiahui, her eyes determined and unwavering. Luo Mu picked up a shrimp ball; there was a smile on her lips, but her tone held a strong edge of aggression: “If someone really wants to compete with me, I’ll fight them for it.”

“I can compromise on anything, but on this one thing, I won’t yield a single step.” At twenty, Luo Mu was born fearless, following her own heart.

“If anyone blocks my path, the result will be—” Luo Mu paused, smiling faintly as she used her left hand to gesture a blade across her neck.

No one could stop the path Luo Mu wanted to take, not even herself. She had fantasized about this path for too long; she wanted to truly live for herself for once.

“Yo, yo, yo—Luo Ben-Ben is so scary, I love it.” Qin Jiahui laughed and teased her while propping her chin on her hand. After a while, her smile solidified. Qin Jiahui slowly and carefully tested: “What if it’s—the person you like?”

The person she liked? Luo Mu’s mind went blank for a moment. She didn’t know why Qin Jiahui would ask that.

Qin Jiahui looked up at the warm-colored ceiling lights, recalling the romance novels she had read in high school, and couldn’t help but murmur: “Don’t novels always write it like that? The female lead gives up her future for love to stay with the person she likes forever—”

“No.” Luo Mu wagged her fingertip in front of Qin Jiahui, choosing to be loyal to herself: “No one can make me compromise.”

Luo Mu didn’t think too much about it; she only knew that for her, life meant facing, experiencing, and reassembling.

She had no path of retreat.

Her father was already preparing to hand the company over to his adopted son; the family assets would never fall to her. All her university expenses were earned through part-time jobs. That father, the only one she shared blood with, had never placed any hope in her.

More than love, Luo Mu cared about living with dignity; she was obsessed with it.

If the road ahead was filled with gloom and no one paved the way for her, then she would use her own strength to build a path. How far she had to go or how long it would take didn’t matter. As long as she could stay alive, as long as she could still smell the scent of courage.

“Good!” Qin Jiahui laughed sillily, her voice high. She stood up and toasted Luo Mu with her soda can, making a crisp clinking sound. “Then here’s to my Luo Ben-Ben’s successful exchange student application!”

“From your mouth to God’s ears, Qin Da-Ben.” Luo Mu toasted her back.

Qin Jiahui couldn’t personally experience Luo Mu’s thoughts, but as a close friend, her gaze was gentle as she observed her.

Yes, Luo Mu had never been changed.

She had always been living for herself.

It was originally a warm scene, but suddenly Luo Mu’s phone on the table rang.

She glanced at it—a strange number, but from Lingyang.

As soon as she picked up, before Luo Mu could react, a frantic male voice burst out from the other side: “Excuse me, are you the sister of classmate Yan Yu?!”

Yan Yu?!

In an instant, Luo Mu’s pupils trembled. Amidst the buzzing in her ears, she let out a short, spasmodic breath, and cold sweat immediately drenched her back. She didn’t know why they would call her phone, but she couldn’t care about that anymore.

The voice on the other side didn’t stop: “I’m her class monitor. Is it convenient for you right now? Can you come to the Lingyang City Hospital?”

Luo Mu stood up quickly and replied: “Okay, I’m coming now!”

After the call was hung up, Luo Mu turned to look at Qin Jiahui and asked anxiously: “How far is the City Hospital from here?”

“Fifteen kilometers.” Qin Jiahui knew something must have happened to the person her friend cared about, and she gave a small smile: “Take the Eastbound Road, it’ll be much faster.”

Luo Mu grabbed her bag, a drop of cold sweat sliding down her forehead: “Sorry.”

Qin Jiahui nodded: “Go ahead, this meal is on me.”

Luo Mu thanked her anxiously, hurried from her seat, and rushed out of the hotpot restaurant. Qin Jiahui sat in her place, staring at the empty seat opposite her. She blinked and couldn’t help but let out a laugh.

Yes, Luo Mu had never changed.

Go on, do what you believe is right.