Hedgehog's Belly - Chapter 64

Chapter 64

The gorgeous hanging chandelier reflected off the mirrors on all sides, presenting Luo Mu’s figure. Thin silk traced the soft curves of her waist. The hem of the dress was rendered in deep crimson roses, hiding a hint of seduction within its softness.

Luo Mu gazed at herself in the mirror, her lips trembling slightly; it was a beauty that felt unreal.

The entire fitting room was bathed in a bright white base, with cream-colored elk decorations embedded in the walls. The aesthetics of light and shadow were displayed to their fullest, and a profound sense of perception permeated the air.

The atmospheric lighting was so warm it was almost enough to make her forget the trivialities and cruelties of life.

Suddenly, the floor-to-ceiling curtains automatically slid open. In a daze, Luo Mu heard footsteps. In the next second, that person hugged her from behind at the waist, her skin feeling the warmth of their breath.

“As expected of Miss Luo, you look good in everything.”

Luo Mu remained calm, though she was somewhat puzzled: “How do you know my measurements?”

“Simple.”

Yan Qingzhu’s voice was soft. Her hands opened and closed, hovering between Luo Mu’s waist and abdomen, roughly tracing the lines. Countless hugs and intimacies had crushed love into the fabric of time; even with her eyes closed, she could sketch out the most blissful image.

Luo Mu looked up; the mirror reflected the ambiguous, flirting atmosphere between the two.

Yan Qingzhu had her long hair pinned up with a yellow sandalwood hairpin carved with elegant reliefs. The faint bruises on her slender neck had already been covered with concealer. With a slight movement, the jade pendants on her earlobes clinked together, creating a crisp sound.

Shedding her daily unbridled flamboyance, she had gained an indescribable gentleness and clarity.

The plain Western silk formal dress entwined with the elegant ink-wash horse-face skirt—it truly stirred the imagination.

Luo Mu stared at the beauty in the mirror, dazed for a long time, finally understanding why the legendary beauties of history were so cherished.

“I truly feel an impulse to hide you away in a secluded courtyard, to possess you alone at this moment.” Luo Mu hooked Yan Qingzhu’s collar. The simple black shirt’s handmade flower-and-bird embroidery was elegant and delicate, possessing a distinct Eastern charm and grandeur.

Before Luo Mu could withdraw her hand, Yan Qingzhu caught her wrist. Before Luo Mu could react, Yan Qingzhu left a kiss on her palm.

Instantly, in her peripheral vision, Luo Mu saw the red string and gold bead on that person’s wrist.

She truly had the temperament of a daughter from a prestigious family now.

Indeed, gold suits the person.

“Can an unknown nobody like me be favored by a young lady who returned from studying in the East?” Yan Qingzhu played it up, momentarily mimicking the tone of a Republican-era stage play.

Suddenly, perhaps because Luo Mu had a guilty conscience, these words sounded exceptionally jarring. Her brow furrowed slightly, and she looked at Yan Qingzhu with a tone of blame: “What if I insist on leaving? What terms would you offer to make me stay?”

“Sister, if I said I could give you everything you want, would you willingly become my chess piece?”

Yan Qingzhu’s fingertips brushed lightly against Luo Mu’s neck, eventually lifting her chin until only a thin breath of flirtation remained between their lips.

“Everything… I want?”

Luo Mu’s gaze was sharp and piercing as she echoed her: “Can you give it to me?”

Yan Qingzhu responded: “Everything.”

Luo Mu looked up at the person before her and felt a sudden pang of reluctance. They always played this game—gazes full of deep affection, yet unable to see through the other’s flaws.

“Stop messing around, Azhu.” Luo Mu lowered her head and laughed, stepping back a few paces: “Your acting is too clumsy.”

“Clumsy? Then I’ll act better next time.” Yan Qingzhu nodded, not feeling embarrassed, and simply turned to walk down the steps: “Want a cup of coffee? I’ll have my assistant go…”

“Yan Qingzhu,”

Yan Qingzhu stopped in her tracks and turned her head. In a daze, the brilliant lights fell upon the girl she loved most. In a white dress, she looked as clear as she did at seventeen, yet more transparent and enduring than back then.

Cinnabar red bloomed like blood on the pure white hem; the light makeup naturally accented her delicate features. Devoid of sharpness, she was soft, beautiful, and bright.

Years ago, Yan Qingzhu had gazed at her exactly like this.

With emotions seeping into memory, perhaps this life’s fate was already sealed.

“I’m willing.” Luo Mu’s voice was faint, yet those two words landed in Yan Qingzhu’s heart with the weight of a stone.

The white dress was too holy; the love was too surging.

Yan Qingzhu instantly forgot the sharp and tricky nature of the question this answer addressed.

If only there were roses, what else would be missing? A veil, perhaps? What about the guests? Gentle, winding background music and a morning lawn damp with dew?

But she was so beautiful.

Nothing else mattered anymore. She said she was willing, and that was enough.

Yan Qingzhu’s breathing suddenly became ragged, a hint of soreness rising in her nose. Her pupils trembled, a halo of light flickering in the secret depths of her eyes.

Happiness seemed as precarious as walking on thin ice, yet it also seemed within easy reach.

“I’m willing,”

Luo Mu repeated in a low voice: “To be your chess piece.”

Whether it was a “chess piece” (qizi) or a “wife” (qizi), in that brief moment of tinnitus, Yan Qingzhu could not distinguish between the two.

But in this second, it seemed the answer was no longer that important.

Lingyang had many bustling districts, but as Luo Mu looked out the car window, the route wisely avoided many well-known restaurants and star-rated hotels.

They eventually stopped at a remote mountain mansion.

Inside the courtyard, stone steps wound back and forth. Clear koi swam in the pond, creating ripples.

The sound of the konghou (ancient harp) was distant yet meticulously detailed; every step revealed a different scene. A tranquil and elegant atmosphere, perfectly touched by soft light and shadow.

The structure was mainly composed of wooden verandas. Yan Qingzhu took Luo Mu’s hand, their fingers interlocking. By her ear was the sound of water flowing over stones; the crisp chirping of birds at night felt like a gift from nature, calming the mind.

“I found out later that Ye Nanjiao’s father and my father are close friends. That’s why this venue was chosen.”

Yan Qingzhu briefly explained to Luo Mu, her high heels clicking sharply on the corridor. Luo Mu looked around; the simple and spacious Chinese courtyard design was handled just right, every inch of air exhaling pure nature.

“Everything you see within this range is a private restaurant managed by the Ye family.”

With every sentence Yan Qingzhu spoke, Luo Mu nodded slowly.

In a daze, a girl leaning against a red pillar in the distance seemed to be waiting for them. Though dressed in a simple qipao, her features were delicate, and an aura of nobility was hard to hide.

Yan Qingzhu purposefully lowered her voice, using a tone that sounded exceptionally high-praise: “For the most authentic Lingyang cuisine, you have to look to the Ye family.”

Ye Nanjiao walked forward and waved her hand: “Hey, don’t overpraise me, I can’t take it.”

She then handed an exquisitely lacquered wine box to Luo Mu, revealing a tiny dimple as she whispered mischievously in her ear: “Here, the red wine Uncle Yan was longing for a while ago. Yan Qingzhu reminded me many times to bring it over. You can’t come empty-handed to meet the parents.”

“Thank you, Nanjiao.” Luo Mu nodded and took the box, her voice soft.

Yan Qingzhu made a show of bowing slightly and smiled: “Yes, thank you, CEO Ye.”

Ye Nanjiao mimicked the “Butler of a CEO” from old-fashioned novels, crossing her arms and speaking sarcastically: “Oh, I haven’t seen the Young Mistress smile like this in a long time.”

“…Alright, alright.” Yan Qingzhu was helpless, while Luo Mu stifled a laugh.

“A reminder: don’t make your old man unhappy. He’s going to play cards with my old man later. Just let my old man be happy and don’t let him interrupt my work,” Ye Nanjiao said crossly.

Suddenly, Yan Qingzhu sensed something was off.

“Where is Sister Dai’er?”

“She went back to Huahai to follow her grandfather, a Traditional Chinese Medicine master. She probably won’t be back until before the New Year,” Ye Nanjiao answered nonchalantly, though a faint melancholy touched her brow.

Luo Mu listened quietly to their banter, feeling a sense of detachment—shallow, yet rooted.

The place she stood now was only by the grace of Yan Qingzhu’s “East Wind.”

She could certainly reach a circle like Yan Qingzhu’s on her own, but it would be ten, twenty years later—maybe longer.

But suddenly she felt her knuckles being squeezed tighter. When she looked up, her gaze met Yan Qingzhu’s.

Yan Qingzhu tilted her head slightly, the jade pendant clinking clearly: “Right, Muzi-jie?”

Luo Mu hadn’t heard the question, but instinctively nodded.

Before Ye Nanjiao could finish, Yan Qingzhu led Luo Mu into the private indoor room.

The room wasn’t built with a purely traditional wooden structure; it featured hints of New Chinese style. The mahogany tables and chairs retained their natural color, and the carved patterns were layered, luxurious yet restrained. Simple calligraphy and wall hangings gave the room an air of dignity.

Yan Qingzhu scalded the cups and warmed the teapot, her movements overly practiced. She then asked Luo Mu in a low voice: “If you drink tea at night, will you be able to sleep?”

Luo Mu shook her head.

This place was too solemn; she was unwilling to say much, fearing her words might become a self-fulfilling prophecy.

“Then I’ll pour you some warm water,” Yan Qingzhu said softly.

Luo Mu whispered: “Thank you.”

After three knocks, a hostess slowly pushed open the wooden door and bowed to guide a middle-aged man into the room. Yan Changde was dressed in a light-colored shirt. Even without an expression, he commanded respect.

Seeing this, Yan Qingzhu and Luo Mu quickly stood up.

“Dad,” Yan Qingzhu called softly.

“Hello, Uncle Yan. I’m Luo Mu.” Luo Mu bowed slightly, natural and poised.

“Mm. I’ve heard Ah-Qing mention you.” Yan Changde waved his hand. After sitting for a moment, he noticed the tea was already prepared.

It was the Pu-erh he usually drank.

“Uncle Yan, this is a small token of my appreciation.” Luo Mu opened the wine box. Yan Changde gave it a quick glance; it was indeed a familiar commercial label and brand.

She had truly read his mind perfectly.

Once the hostess recapped the wine box and took it for safekeeping, Yan Changde sipped his tea and smiled kindly: “So you are the young girl Luo. I didn’t expect to see you again.”

“After so many years, do you really not remember me?”

“How could I?” Luo Mu remained calm and composed, following the topic with a faint smile: “Uncle Yan, your vitality is as strong as it was back then. As expected of someone surrounded by the fortune of wealth.”

Suddenly, Yan Changde smiled as if satisfied.

Yan Qingzhu was instantly startled. She looked down at Luo Mu and mouthed: “You two actually know each other?”

“I don’t know… no impression.” Luo Mu signaled with her eyes, appearing anxious as she mouthed back.

In her youth, relying on her sweet talk, she had attended several business dinners with her father. But back then, she was just a “vase” to make the elders happy; Luo Mu hadn’t made a conscious effort to remember their faces.

After so many years, how could Luo Mu remember?

After a few pleasantries, Luo Mu listened intently to the conversation between father and daughter. It was like a rope connecting strangers by force—there wasn’t even a hint of familiarity.

“If Yan Yu likes scientific research, I want to send her abroad. What do you think?” Yan Changde put down his chopsticks, his tone calm and steady, without a ripple.

“That depends on her will. If she has that idea, I have no objection.” Yan Qingzhu added fresh tea to her father’s cup.

But only Luo Mu heard the subtext: if Yan Yu chose to go abroad, who would be left to stay by Yan Qingzhu’s side?

It seemed there really would be no one.

Luo Mu asked herself: would it be her?

Impossible.

Yan Changde continued: “Yan Yu must be a big girl now. How is her temperament?”

“Her daily life is a bit messy, but she’s much better than before. She’s had some success in her studies.” Yan Qingzhu did add some polish, but she was telling the truth.

In front of her father, Yan Qingzhu understood all too well that she must not stand out—for Yan Yu’s sake, and for her own.

“Then my daughter is truly outstanding.” Yan Changde smiled with relief. This sentence caused Yan Qingzhu’s breathing to hitch momentarily.

In this conversation, the protagonist was always the sister who never showed up.

Luo Mu wasn’t stupid. She had long seen the bitterness and endurance in the eyes of the person beside her. Past events were like a rope binding Yan Qingzhu. The words were heartless, clearly telling Yan Qingzhu that she was the intruder.

“Uncle Yan,” Luo Mu said frankly, with a warm smile.

She covered Yan Qingzhu’s cold hand with her own palm, warmth spreading to preserve her dignity.

“Yan Qingzhu is also very outstanding, isn’t she?” Luo Mu’s tone was humble, yet it struck a nerve.

Yan Qingzhu’s pupils dilated instantly.

If Yan Changde admitted it, it would prove he was blind to talent.

If he didn’t admit it, it would show he was poor at judging character.

Making an elder choose like this was indeed too impulsive and blind.

Luo Mu glanced at Yan Qingzhu out of the corner of her eye. She just didn’t want to see any more gazes crushing her lover’s spine.

Yan Qingzhu, let me be the bad guy.

“Luo Mu.”

The corners of Yan Qingzhu’s lips turned slightly pale and trembled, instantly cutting off Luo Mu’s question.

Luo Mu responded to soft approaches but not hard ones; she was about to retort when she noticed the redness in Yan Qingzhu’s eyes.

Luo Mu shut her mouth instantly.

Red veins—appearing earlier than Luo Mu had expected—had filled her lover’s eyes.