Hedgehog's Belly - Chapter 45

Chapter 45

After repeatedly confirming that Yan Yu’s condition had mostly recovered, Luo Mu stared at the IV bottle; half was still remaining. The presence of the girl’s biological sister allowed Luo Mu to breathe a sigh of relief. Although she had grown up in hardship, Luo Mu rarely fell ill and didn’t have much experience taking care of others. With an extra person to help, she felt a bit more grounded.

Slowly, Luo Mu looked at Yan Qingzhu and asked in a calm tone, “Where are you two going later?”

Having not seen her for two years, the twenty-year-old Yan Qingzhu showed no trace of her former youthful awkwardness. Her gaze held a hidden indifference, much like the scent of petitgrain emanating from her—a hint of freshness mixed with a trace of tartness that made her difficult to approach.

“Back to the apartment in Lingyang. It’s three kilometers away, quite close,” Yan Qingzhu answered in a hushed voice, glancing briefly at Yan Yu. The girl’s head rested on Yan Qingzhu’s shoulder, her eyelashes slightly curled. She no longer opened her eyes, finally falling into a deep sleep.

Yan Qingzhu gazed at her and asked back, “And you?”

“Back to school. I still have some things to handle.” Luo Mu stood up to smooth the wrinkles in her clothes, slung her shoulder bag on, and brushed her shoulder-length hair back with both hands. The light woody scent mixed with the fragrance of jasmine had never changed.

“Sorry.” Yan Qingzhu’s voice was very soft, tinged with a hint of raspiness.

Luo Mu didn’t actually feel troubled; instead, she wore a faint smile. Her eyes were gentle as she reminded her: “Find some time to give Yan Yu a comprehensive check-up. Her state is much worse than before.”

She wasn’t sure if it was due to the pressure of a top-tier school, but during university, while tutoring children of this age group, Luo Mu had found that many suffered from physical and psychological issues.

Yan Qingzhu nodded: “Okay.”

“You too. Get a check-up together.” Luo Mu narrowed her eyes and added: “Don’t put too much pressure on yourself either. Some things happen so suddenly, truly without warning.”

In a daze, Luo Mu realized these words were a slap to her own face. The things she had said to Yan Qingzhu at seventeen were indeed sudden, giving the other girl no chance to process them. When Luo Mu said they should never meet again, that person hadn’t made things difficult for her.

—”Or perhaps it’s because we are too compatible.”

—”But I don’t like this feeling at all.”

Luo Mu gritted her teeth, not daring to look back. Facing the ego and self-reproach surfacing from the waters of memory was like a blade tip stained with regret, severing tendons and piercing internal organs, eventually sinking deep into her marrow.

Facing an unknown fate, she had done all she could within the limits of destiny. She had naively thought that as long as she stayed away from Yan Qingzhu, that unfulfilled prophecy would not come true, and Yan Qingzhu’s gaze could remain full of the brightness and unbridled spirit uncorroded by cold winds.

But she was too selfish; she had never asked if Yan Qingzhu was willing. Just like that, without warning, she had torn and peeled herself out of the other’s life.

She had never asked Yan Qingzhu if it hurt.

The thought was like ten thousand ants eating at her heart.

“Okay.” Yan Qingzhu adjusted Yan Yu’s head on her shoulder to a comfortable position and nodded slowly, her gaze as gentle as green bamboo in spring.

Luo Mu glanced at Yan Yu, who was sleeping soundly. Indeed, having a blood relative by one’s side provided a special kind of security.

Luo Mu waved her hand: “Then I’ll head out first.”

Yan Qingzhu whispered: “Be careful on the road.”

“Mhm.” A gentle smile rose on the corners of Luo Mu’s lips. As she turned, she felt that the other person’s gaze did not shift. She gripped the strap of her shoulder bag tightly, her brow slightly furrowed, not daring to look back.

Don’t look back.

Luo Mu quickly left the hospital and hailed a car back to school. For a long time, sitting in the car, she could still feel the tremor of her heart.

Having not met for two years, fragments of longing tormented Luo Mu, chewing over memories in the deep, restless hours of the night, flowing with her blood to every part of her body—an unrestful pain.

Luo Mu knew that was the person she wanted to see most.

But she also knew that was the person she could least afford to see.

Upon returning to the apartment she rented near the school, Luo Mu tiredly hung her bag on the wardrobe hook. Her former roommates in the dormitory liked keeping all sorts of small animals, especially various reptiles; their schedules were inverted, and she couldn’t find a single similarity in their lifestyle habits.

In the end, frustrated, Luo Mu had chosen to move out and rent a place.

Just out of the shower, as she was wiping the water droplets from her hair, her professor happened to call.

“Student Luo Mu, the documents for the exchange program have arrived. You must prepare well, and get your exit materials ready first.” Luo Mu could hear the satisfaction in the professor’s voice. Even without details, she could guess that the matter was settled.

“I see. Thank you for your concern, Professor.”

Luo Mu exchanged a few pleasantries with the professor before hanging up. Sitting at her desk, she cautiously opened her computer and launched the university’s official website interface she had studied countless times.

The mouse moved slowly, and her breath paused for those few seconds. Her gaze flickered, her vision shifting nervously. It wasn’t until she saw her name on the exchange student list that her taut nerves finally relaxed. She slumped into her chair and let out a long, long sigh.

The dust had finally settled.

Suddenly, her phone rang again. Thinking the professor had more instructions, Luo Mu picked up and said calmly, “Professor, is there something else?”

In an instant, there was no sound on the other end. Luo Mu sensed something was wrong and glanced at the screen, only to see it was an unknown number. With a hint of confusion, she inquired cautiously: “Hello?”

Was it a wrong number?

“Sister Muzi, it’s me.” A familiar voice sounded from the other end, an unspeakable sense of brokenness emerging through the raspiness.

After two years, Luo Mu could never forget that voice. It was the sound that had pierced through her high school years, echoing countless times in her drunken dreams. Like moonlight that is hard to bind, it hooked a cold shadow—unholdable, unreachable.

Luo Mu’s nose suddenly stung, and her eyes grew moist. She gathered her emotions and then gave a low response.

“Mhm.”

Yan Qingzhu asked, “Are you back?”

“I’m back,” Luo Mu said indifferently.

Hearing those words, Yan Qingzhu let out a sigh of relief on the other end, followed by a light “mhm.” Her tone then became somewhat stagnant, her voice very soft, like wind passing through willow leaves: “Thank you.”

“Thank you, for your hard work.”

Yan Qingzhu repeated it again, her stubborn tone making one’s heart ache. “If it weren’t for you, I really wouldn’t have known what to do with an emergency like this.”

Luo Mu’s eyelashes trembled, the corners of her mouth twitching. She suddenly realized that the wild and free Yan Qingzhu from high school, the top student of Lingyang University, was still helpless when facing her sister, still suppressing the invasion of her emotions, repressing her true panic and unease.

It turned out Yan Qingzhu could feel fear, anxiety, and helplessness in the face of sudden changes.

It turned out Yan Qingzhu also felt pain.

“It’s nothing.” After a moment, Luo Mu slowly replied: “Make sure Yan Yu eats well and gets some rest.”

The voice on the other end came: “Okay.”

Instantly, it returned to silence. Yan Qingzhu lowered her eyes, her pupils moving slowly. She wanted to say something more, but suddenly heard Luo Mu say in a low tone: “That’s it, then. I’m hanging up.”

Yan Qingzhu replied: “Okay.”

Before Yan Qingzhu could react, the call interface on the phone screen already showed it had been disconnected. Yan Qingzhu sighed and stuffed the phone back into her trench coat pocket. Her expression was as indifferent as stagnant winter water, devoid of life.

March in Lingyang had not yet warmed up; the wind and moon were bleak.

Yan Qingzhu looked back at Yan Yu sitting obediently on the sofa. Her head was bowed very low, like a child who had done something wrong waiting for criticism. But Yan Qingzhu didn’t blame her; she simply poured a glass of warm water, placed it on the coffee table, and carefully checked the medication instructions.

In the large living room, neither sister spoke. Yan Yu was restless, her gaze fixed on Yan Qingzhu. She didn’t dare ask her sister how she had come back those hundred-plus kilometers or if it would affect her university life.

After a long time, Yan Yu couldn’t help but speak.

“Big Sister, actually, your Gaokao score could have gotten you into Huahai University.”

Yan Qingzhu froze, frowning, her cool eyes like frosted broken silver: “Who told you that?”

“Sister Nan Qiao.”

“Don’t listen to her nonsense in the future. Her mouth is only honest with Sister Dai-er.” Yan Qingzhu waved her hand, organizing the medication on the coffee table into a small dedicated box.

“Big Sister, don’t lie to me. I’m not stupid.” Yan Yu’s eyelashes flickered, a heart-wrenching pain washing over her. Her hands rested on her knees, trembling uncontrollably.

“Why did you stay in Lingyang? Do you not know yourself?”

“Because I like it.” Yan Qingzhu’s gaze was firm, saying those words without hesitation—simple, like a standard answer on the Gaokao.

Gaokao questions have standard answers, but life does not.

Yan Yu responded; it was her first time denying Yan Qingzhu so firmly.

“Although Ling-Da is very, very good, you don’t actually like it at all.”

“Big Sister, you are always making things so hard for yourself. You clearly had a choice.” Yan Yu choked up, as if a massive and ancient boulder were pressing down, making it hard for her to breathe.

Was there a choice?

Yan Qingzhu’s eyes reflected the child’s face, her vision blurred. She rarely observed the changes in this adolescent child so closely. Yan Yu’s eyes were as clear as the gentle waters of Jiangnan, yet they carried a splash of spring’s brightness.

Huahai University—the school that students from both Chujiang Tianzhong and Lingyang No. 1 Middle School fought desperately to get into. If Yan Qingzhu had truly chosen that, resolutely and without looking back, heading to the north… then when a situation like today occurred, or even something more serious, what would Yan Yu do? What would Yan Qingzhu do?

Yan Qingzhu lowered her eyes, which felt as if they were soaked in crushed ice.

It turns out no matter how one chooses, it’s impossible to satisfy everyone.

Was there a choice?

“Big Sister, you never admit what you like.”

These words from Yan Yu felt like a grievance against Yan Qingzhu.

“Like what, for example?” Yan Qingzhu’s gaze was sharp and thin. She organized the medication neatly and marked the key points.

“You clearly like Sister Muzi very much. Why have you two become so distant?”

Yan Qingzhu understood her meaning—You clearly like Luo Mu.

You miss her so much; why do you pretend not to care?

Why don’t you tell her?

“Yan Yu, I hope that before you become someone’s lover in the future, you should become yourself.”

Yan Qingzhu handed the small pillbox to Yan Yu. The complex and subtle emotions in her eyes ebbed and flowed; her words were honest and transparent.

“It’s the same for Sister Muzi.”

Yan Qingzhu paused, forcing a faint smile. A strength from deep within was compelling her to say these words.

Only after experiencing the changes of time and the hard knocks of reality can one learn that growing up is never an easy thing.

One must constantly struggle within contradictions and learn to be tempered through confrontation.

One must repeatedly say goodbye to one’s former self.

“Luo Mu needs time to become herself.”

Luo Mu needs sufficient time to firmly choose herself first, before any other role.

Yan Qingzhu hesitated for a moment.

Even if the option of “Yan Qingzhu” never appeared in Luo Mu’s life.

That would be fine, too.