Hedgehog's Belly - Chapter 53

Chapter 53

Yan Qingzhu raised the glass again, her eyes lost in thought, and took another small sip.

From the floor-to-ceiling window, Lingyang’s night view was bustling and brilliant. Turning her gaze back to Yan Yu, she couldn’t help but chuckle.

“But you still guessed wrong.” The corners of Yan Qingzhu’s mouth curled upward, and Yan Yu’s figure was reflected in her calm pupils.

Or perhaps it should be said, Yan Yu guessed half right.

“Yan Yu.” Yan Qingzhu’s tone softened as she rubbed the glass with her fingertip, propping up her chin with one hand. After a long silence, she asked, “In the future, do you want to work in trade and economics, or the beauty industry?”

Yan Yu was momentarily confused, and after a few seconds, she shook her head. She had told Yan Qingzhu more than once that she only wanted to pursue biology—it had always been that way, and it had never changed.

Yan Qingzhu lowered her gaze and placed the glass back on the table. “Alright, I understand.”

Yan Yu lowered her head, probing carefully: “Big Sister.”

“Anything you’re worried about will not happen.” Yan Qingzhu refilled the lemonade and responded calmly, “I won’t let those things happen either.”

“Because your sister will settle all your anxieties for you.”

By the time Yan Yu went to rest, only one lamp remained lit in the living room.

The crystal lamp refracted a hazy halo of light. Yan Qingzhu opened the refrigerator, about to take out a bottle of alcohol, when she suddenly remembered Luo Mu’s words:

—”One day we will forget the need for alcohol to escape the pain life brings us.”

Yan Qingzhu’s hand, suspended in mid-air, paused for a few seconds. She let out an involuntary chuckle and then took out an iced cola next to it instead.

Although the medical student Luo Daier had warned her many times to drink less iced beverages during her period, especially in high temperatures, Yan Qingzhu still sneakily took out a few ice cubes and added them to the cola.

The cola bubbles rose along the walls of the glass, making faint popping sounds. Yan Qingzhu recalled the scene of meeting Yan Changde that afternoon, her fingertips tapping the side of the glass, creating crisp ringing noises.

Yan Changde had requested this meeting personally.

Facing the familiar mural of mountain birds, Yan Qingzhu sat across from Yan Changde and skillfully brewed a cup of tea for him.

Only this time, she chose not to compromise.

Yan Changde coughed a few times and took a sip, the tea’s fragrance leaving a sweet aftertaste: “I don’t remember you knowing how to brew tea.”

“A friend likes it, so I learned a bit.” Yan Qingzhu refilled his tea and laughed frankly, “The steps aren’t hard; you learn after seeing it enough.”

Yan Changde murmured, “Lingyang is a good place. I’m very at ease with Yan Yu being here.”

Yan Qingzhu nodded. “Yan Yu is very excellent; she hasn’t disappointed expectations.”

“Yan Yu… it’s indeed been a long time since I’ve seen her.” Yan Changde slumped back into the sofa, closing his eyes to focus. Then he let out a sigh, sounding somewhat self-reproachful: “That child still refuses to see me.”

“If Yan Yu is unwilling, Father shouldn’t force it. It won’t be too late to see you when she comes around to the idea.”

Yan Qingzhu used a cloth to wipe the water stains off the table. Over the past few years, she had gradually shed her sharp edges, showing instead restraint and composure—like a breeze eternally trapped in the twilight, finally merging and taking residence within this delusion.

“You always tell me how good and excellent Yan Yu is, afraid I’ll look down on her even for a second.” Yan Changde looked up and laughed, then shook his head, answering meaningfully, “How could I have a prejudice against Yan Yu? She is my daughter.”

These were ordinary words, but Yan Qingzhu’s pupils trembled slightly for an instant, and her breath hitched for a few seconds. Then, she forced a smile and nodded in silent agreement.

Because of blood, even if there was a rift in their hearts, they were ultimately connected by lineage; there wouldn’t be too many disagreements. Ultimately, Yan Yu naturally didn’t need to maintain a relationship as deliberately as Yan Qingzhu did. As long as Yan Yu was there, Yan Changde would remain proud of her.

This was supposed to be beyond doubt.

“Yes, Yan Yu is worth it.” Yan Qingzhu smiled faintly, tidying the tea stains on the table.

But for someone like Yan Qingzhu—someone with the title but no substance—she was nothing more than a thief who had stolen someone else’s smooth path. And this sin was destined to leave Yan Qingzhu forever stranded in the deep night and bitterness. Yet Yan Yu never resented her, never got angry with her, which only made Yan Qingzhu live further in guilt and doubt, making her more unpardonable.

Yan Changde opened his phone to check the calendar. For a moment, Yan Qingzhu caught a glimpse of his wallpaper; it was a seven-year-old Yan Yu showing off her collection of limited-edition princess cards.

She remembered that Yan Yu’s favorite thing to collect back then was various limited-edition cards, but back in the mediation room, Yan Yu had clearly told Yan Changde that even if she didn’t get the cards, she wanted to go with her sister.

I want to go with my sister.

Yan Qingzhu couldn’t help but lower her eyes, her heart aching slightly. Yan Yu could have been passionately cherished like a princess, or even luckier, could have enjoyed the flattery and social success of this world like Ye Nanqiao.

This pain enveloped and pierced through Yan Qingzhu like a barb.

“She’s almost in her senior year of high school, isn’t she? When the time comes, go ask her if she likes foreign trade or her mother’s beauty industry.” Yan Changde took another sip of tea, having already cleared all obstacles for his daughter’s future.

Yan Qingzhu stared at the faint steam rising from the teacup and answered calmly, “She loves biology and enjoys research and dissection. As for what major she chooses or what she does in the future, just let her follow her heart.”

“It’s good that she has something she likes to do,” Yan Changde hadn’t expected Yan Yu to not want to inherit the family business, but he still held a glimmer of hope as he sat up straight. “But when you have time, try to persuade her again. Wanting to carve out a new path… that road is not easy to walk.”

“As parents, we still want our children to be more stable.”

The implication was that Yan Changde had already paved a smooth, worry-free path for Yan Yu to walk.

Yan Qingzhu didn’t directly agree. She brewed another pot of tea: “Let her think what she wants; she has things she desires.”

Yan Changde fell silent. As Yan Qingzhu poured the tea into the cup, she inadvertently looked up and caught her father’s sharp gaze. The twenty-year-old Yan Qingzhu had long since shed the courage she had at seventeen to fight against the world. She had begun to live cautiously, no longer trying to retain anything, and no longer believing like a fool that human effort can overcome everything.

Yan Changde sighed and, after a long silence, finally asked the question: “Ah Qing, have you ever thought about what you want?”

“You never know what you want, because you are always living for others.”

Yan Qingzhu was momentarily stunned. Her hand holding the teacup shook, and the scalding tea immediately spilled onto the back of her hand. The burning sensation spread instantly, the pain surging to her brain through her nerves, causing a moment of numbness. Yan Qingzhu gritted her teeth and didn’t make a sound, pulling out a few tissues to wipe the red, scalded skin.

“Sorry.” Yan Qingzhu said in a muffled voice, standing up to go to the sink to rinse it. With her back to Yan Changde, the cold water brought an instant clarity. Yan Qingzhu looked down, her eyelashes trembling.

Could she want anything?

For someone with her background, if there was something she wanted, could she truly possess it?

After choosing to leave, Yan Qingzhu walked down Shengping Street. She habitually opened the familiar chat box and sent Luo Mu a sticker of a kitten offering flowers.

Seeing no reply for a long time, Yan Qingzhu’s curiosity got the better of her, and she sent a rapid-fire series of stickers.

Then a notification popped up.

lomo: You don’t seem very smart.

Passing by a flower shop, Yan Qingzhu turned to stare at the bouquets in the window and took a few steps back. She pushed the door open, her gaze immediately landing on some freshly cut crimson roses.

Yan Qingzhu watched the red roses—bright and succulent with water droplets still hanging on the petals, looking even more elegant. She smiled faintly at the shop assistant: “Please wrap a bouquet for me.”

Yan Qingzhu’s gaze gradually grew distant; at this moment, she just wanted to see her.

Amidst the fireworks of Lingyang, Yan Qingzhu couldn’t fully grasp what Luo Mu meant by “saving a part of my love for myself.”

Save a part of love for yourself? Can you live as the person you want to be?

Yan Qingzhu blinked; there was no escape, nowhere to report.

Could she want anything?

Perhaps.

It was possible.

When the girl who had once disturbed her sanity cast aside all the decrees of fate and stood honorably before her, sincerely seeking a minuscule yet deafening answer.

“Yan Qingzhu, have you ever thought about being entangled with someone for a lifetime?”

“Yan Qingzhu, be entangled with me for a lifetime.”

Because of those words, Yan Qingzhu was willing to walk this path again. To be open about her love, to let down her guard and barriers, and to hold the person she loved tightly.

The ice cubes mixed in the cola had long since melted. Yan Qingzhu scrolled through her phone photos to that crooked picture of the two of them from behind. The corners of her mouth rose unconsciously; the halo of light was faint and hazy, like an unprecedented and lingering dream.

And so it was.

Yan Qingzhu stared at the bubbles in her cola, and remembering Yan Yu’s words, her pupils trembled.

Yan Yu might have guessed wrong, but perhaps she had guessed right.

Was she using Luo Mu?

Yan Qingzhu’s gaze went hollow, and she hesitated for a few seconds.

To pray for a smooth life with no sadness or worry felt like a delusion.

Perhaps love cannot just be love.

After Luo Mu finished tidying her room, she was preparing to organize her high school photos to print them out. Suddenly the phone rang; Luo Mu put it on speaker and continued focusing on the printer ink cartridge.

“Your stepmother is asking if you’re coming back to Chujiang for the summer break.” On the other end of the line, Ji Rongshu’s tone was lazy, but Luo Mu laughed inadvertently.

Luo Mu thought the printer’s structure was quite peculiar: “I’m not going back. I have a lot of things to handle right now. When you go back, help me tell her I’m doing well.”

“Are you sure?” Ji Rongshu probed once more, his tone carrying a sense of worry. “She also asked if you have enough money right now. If not, she’ll transfer some to you.”

Luo Mu didn’t hesitate: “I have enough; no need to trouble her.”

The other end went silent for a moment, followed by a sigh from Ji Rongshu.

After a few seconds, Ji Rongshu said slowly, “Don’t blame her for asking too much. When elders reach a certain age, they’re all like that. She knows you’re busy and felt too embarrassed to say it herself, so she asked me to pass the word.”

Luo Mu looked at the instruction manual and gave a light laugh. “Mhm, I know.”

“Anyway, that’s the situation.” The sound of a game opening rang out on Ji Rongshu’s end, and then he said seriously, “You need to take good care of yourself.”

Luo Mu always recalled the stupid things she and Ji Rongshu had done as children and how they had covered for each other. She marveled at how, even without a blood relation, their bond was as thick as kin.

Luo Mu teased, “Ji Rongshu, I feel like you’re always on the same side as me.”

“Of course, because we’re family.” Ji Rongshu didn’t think much of it and responded quickly.

But it was exactly a person like this who was destined to compete with her for resources and wealth. Luo Mu knew very well that even if Ji Rongshu was unwilling, Luo Zhicheng would bring all the resources to him, paving a grand road for him that Luo Mu never had.

He would forever live in flattery, never having to endure suspicion or doubt. He never had to work hard to prove his existence or ability; as long as he stood there, Luo Zhicheng’s gaze would be fixed upon him.

Luo Mu lowered her eyes, her hair draped over her shoulders. Her tone was gentle, but her words held a note of certainty:

“Thank you.”

This made her envious.

Luo Mu looked out at the brilliant city lights and let out a laugh.

This made her jealous.