Hedgehog's Belly - Chapter 52

Chapter 52

A niche English song drifted from the small tavern in the alley; the low whispers accompanied the melody, sounding gentle and graceful, healing the restless emotions of this fast-paced city.

A wish made at seventeen was finally realized at twenty.

With a flickering trace of affection entertwining between them, Luo Mu slowly looked up, her eyelashes trembling slightly. She finally didn’t need to dissect herself again. Casting all secular rules and conventions behind her, she could finally face her love candidly.

That was love, after all—it wasn’t like she was stealing.

“So, what do you think?” Yan Qingzhu asked, like a child waiting for a reply, her eyes showing a hint of anxiety as she probed.

Luo Mu had been waiting for exactly this sentence.

“Me too,” Luo Mu said softly; the answer was simple.

Yan Qingzhu’s lips trembled: “Then you…”

“I do.”

Luo Mu hooked her arms around her neck, lightly stood on her tiptoes, and left a quick kiss on Yan Qingzhu’s cheek.

Under the shadows of the alley walls, clusters of wild jasmine bloomed, releasing the rich, unique fragrance of summer. Two estranged souls were so close at this moment, gazing at each other sincerely. They finally lived in each other’s reflections, carrying a trace of giggling joy.

It was a sweet and greedy delusion.

“A reward for this little one for telling the truth.” Luo Mu looked up, her brow slightly raised, as she teased Yan Qingzhu.

Yan Qingzhu smiled faintly: “I have some more truths; does Sister Muzi want to hear them?”

Luo Mu was puzzled: “Mhm?”

Yan Qingzhu let out a sigh. Under the dim light, her eyes appeared full of pity, like a sliver of a waning moon in the thin night: “I once said that no matter what happens to me, you must never be the first person to stand out.”

“Whether I am your friend or your lover, I hope you will focus your attention on yourself.”

Yan Qingzhu rubbed her head: “You believe in karma, so do not let karma bind you.”

She didn’t want to tell Luo Mu the truth too early, nor did she want her to wade through this muddy water for her.

Luo Mu froze, realizing that the seventeen-year-old Yan Qingzhu had also said this to her.

In fact, from beginning to end, Yan Qingzhu knew exactly what Luo Mu needed most.

Yan Qingzhu understood the repeated tearing and struggling of a believer within the void of their own faith.

Surviving on the last bit of illusory hope at least gave the soul a place to belong, so it would no longer drift.

But at this moment, in front of Yan Qingzhu, Luo Mu should be her most authentic self.

Yan Qingzhu’s gaze was burning yet restrained; her voice was sincere and hooked into the soul.

“I want you to become yourself first.”

Yan Qingzhu always wanted Luo Mu to be herself.

Luo Mu’s lips trembled, but she found herself somewhat unable to speak. Upon looking up, the corners of her eyes were red.

After a long time, Luo Mu’s eyes were shimmering, and then she nodded: “I promise you.”

After parting ways, Luo Mu returned to her rental apartment. The crimson on her ears had not yet fully faded; everything felt very surreal.

The dazzling, beautiful girl from her youth had now become her girlfriend.

Luo Mu leaned against the wall, her eyelashes trembling. She lightly touched the corner of her lips with her fingertip; there was still lingering warmth. Recalling that gentle voice, her heart continued to throb.

From now on, she would no longer choose to dodge or avoid.

Luo Mu shook her head and washed her face with cold water, staring at herself in the mirror to clear her head for a moment.

Her fingertip swiped across the chat box and hit send.

lomo: I’ve arrived.

After bathing, Luo Mu draped a towel over her shoulders and dried her hair. Then, her gaze fixed on the documents on her laptop; her fingertips lightly tapped the desk. She opened the calendar on the computer; this period was the handover phase, and there would be a review period afterward—it really couldn’t be rushed.

Finally, there was a bit of quiet time.

Luo Mu then slid her finger across the phone screen, scrolling through photos in her album. She hadn’t deleted any photos saved since high school. Counting the time, it had been four or five years. But the further down she scrolled, the more Luo Mu’s brow furrowed, her expression becoming hard to describe.

It seemed that besides those two group photos from the Foreign Language Festival, she and Yan Qingzhu had never been in a frame together.

The only “photo” of the two of them was a blurry shot taken secretly by Jiang Yan before the sophomore Foreign Language Festival.

Luo Mu leaned back on the sofa and tilted her head, letting out a “tsk.”

Thinking about it, it really was quite pitiful.

They were girlfriends now, yet they didn’t even have a decent photo together.

lomo: Have we never taken a photo together?

Luo Mu paused, feeling the sentence was a bit strange, so she added:

lomo: The kind with just the two of us.

After a few seconds, Yan Qingzhu sent a photo.

It was still that same photo Jiang Yan had sneakily taken.

But this version had been polished; it wasn’t as blurry as the physical print. Instead, the two of them were leaning tightly against each other, and the surrounding scenery had been blurred out. It was as if they were traveling through memory, escaping all the absurdity and ugliness of this world, running alone toward a parallel space-time belonging only to the two of them.

Q: This is the one Jiang Yan gave you; it counts as one of them.

Luo Mu was stunned for a few seconds. What did “one of them” mean?

And more importantly—

lomo: How did you know that the one Jiang Yan gave me during the Hundred-Day Oath was this one?

Q: Because I was the one who packaged the photo.

Luo Mu stopped instantly, her mind going blank. She sent another sentence.

lomo: So, you were also the one who bought that bouquet of roses back then?

Q: Mhm.

So, during the period when she was out of contact with Yan Qingzhu, Luo Mu hadn’t been the only one bearing the pain of longing.

Luo Mu felt a wave of relief. Fortunately, all the bitterness had turned to sweetness.

Strange as it was, after all the twists and turns, life still maintained a sense of mercy and tolerance, allowing them to finally reunite.

Q: Jiang Yan wouldn’t let me tell you back then. We were at the green corridor, and Jiang Yan was acting like a paparazzi, taking secret shots from the wisteria lab building.

lomo: Tell her to hand over all the photos and I might spare her life.

Q: I thought you were going to say something grateful.

Then, Luo Mu sent a voice message: “When we get married in the future, let Jiang Yan sit at the head table.”

lomo: Is that grateful enough?

Yan Qingzhu burst out laughing when she saw Luo Mu’s message. Yan Yu, who was nearby, finally noticed her sister’s odd behavior.

Slowly, Yan Qingzhu fell into thought for a moment, her smile turning a bit static.

After a long while, the text in the input box was finally sent.

Q: Will we… get married in the future?

Luo Mu’s laptop screen displayed the materials she had organized over these months, collecting various certifications. Luo Mu reflected that all these years were just for the qualification to fill out these materials at this moment.

It was worth it.

In a daze, Luo Mu opened her phone and saw that sentence.

Will we get married?

Leaving aside whether there would be sudden changes or risks in the future, just considering two women—could they be blessed?

Their parents both held conservative views; what would it take to be understood? If they opposed it, how would it be resolved?

Suddenly, Luo Mu laughed at the absurdity—how could she be thinking so far ahead?

Just living in the moment was enough for now.

Perhaps love cannot just be love.

After an unknown amount of time, Yan Qingzhu—gritting her teeth and cursing—finished a Microeconomics group report. She was just about ready to run into the street and have a shouting match with a stray dog when she received Luo Mu’s reply.

Luo Mu sent a voice message, her voice soft: “We will. Why wouldn’t we?”

She said it very certainly: they would get married.

Yan Qingzhu bit her lip, but the corners of her mouth rose uncontrollably, and the backs of her ears turned crimson instantly. She buried her face in her arms, lying on the table and laughing out loud, her shoulders trembling as pink bubbles seemed to pop up around her.

Suddenly, she felt the stray dogs on the street were quite cute, too.

Yan Qingzhu lay on the table like a lazy cat waiting for a reward, her gaze tender as she cautiously sent a sentence.

Q: I’ll listen to you on everything.

Yan Yu propped up her chin, her hand constantly clicking the TV remote. Her gaze drifted toward Yan Qingzhu.

Yan Yu frowned, gradually noticing that something was amiss.

Slowly standing up, Yan Yu probed cautiously: “Big Sister, did you go to Shengping Street?”

Yan Qingzhu’s expression turned calm instantly. She nodded: “Mhm.”

Yan Yu narrowed her eyes: “Did you see Father?”

“Did he say anything?” Yan Yu’s voice trembled slightly.

But Yan Qingzhu didn’t respond to her directly. Instead, she pulled her aside to sit down. Then, Yan Qingzhu picked up the glass teapot filled with lemon and mint slices from the table, poured a cup of water, and pushed the glass toward Yan Yu.

Yan Qingzhu raised her left eyebrow, then curled her lips into a faint smile, her tone slow and deliberate: “Yan Yu, I have some good news here. Do you want to hear it first?”

“Big Sister, I only want news about Dad.” Yan Yu sensed something wrong.

Yan Qingzhu rarely avoided the topic of their father on purpose. And Yan Yu knew Yan Qingzhu well; their father must have said something that Yan Qingzhu couldn’t bear to hear.

But these words, Yan Yu had to hear them too.

“Why won’t you just listen?”

Yan Qingzhu’s lazy gaze studied Yan Yu. This child had gentle features, like a spring fairytale hidden in a tree hollow. Yet she didn’t lack the resilience of growth; her silent pupils were full of purpose.

Yan Qingzhu poured a cup of water and took a few sips; the sourness of the lemon mixed with the coolness of the mint. She paused, her tone turning deep with tenderness: “Sister Muzi and I are together.”

Yan Qingzhu watched Yan Yu’s expression. On a normal day, Yan Yu would have been dancing with excitement.

But at this moment, those deep eyes—devoid of any breath of life—were as desolate as a dead pool. She stared blankly at Yan Qingzhu. Yan Yu’s face turned pale instantly, and the corners of her mouth wouldn’t stop trembling. Slowly, Yan Qingzhu clearly heard a few sighs from Yan Yu.

“Big Sister.” After a long time, Yan Yu finally spoke.

There was no slight change in her voice, nor any emotional tone.

It was like uncovering a century-old lie; all hope seemed to shatter and scatter like exploding glass.

She spoke Yan Qingzhu’s full name for the first time.

“Yan Qingzhu, are you using her?” Yan Yu’s sentence had no rising inflection at the end, yet she couldn’t speak another word, as if language was destined not to give her the answer she wanted.

Or perhaps, she didn’t want to know the so-called answer at all.

Yan Qingzhu had long since guessed Yan Yu’s reaction. she swirled the lemonade in her cup, the ice cubes making a crisp sound as they collided. Without honey or sugar to neutralize it, there was only the sour bitterness released by the lemon after soaking for a long time.

And that sour bitterness spread from the taste buds to the throat.

The freshness of the mint leaves happened to cover that bitterness, presenting a harmonious and warm illusion of taste.

Yan Yu guessed that Yan Qingzhu seemed to be deliberately hiding something.

And Yan Qingzhu’s gaze was like the evening wind in a deep valley, carrying a hazy, cool thinness of winter.

A kind of power forced her to utter this sentence:

“You are very smart.”