Little Duckling - Chapter 15

Lin Xiaoshuang carried a heart full of secrets, buried beneath the snow of long winter nights.

Like stars shimmering behind clouds, or a night-blooming cereus blossoming in the silent darkness—quiet, cautious, and unseen.

She feared being discovered, yet yearned to be noticed.

—If only that person were Li Xia.

If Li Xia ever realized…

Lin Xiaoshuang wanted to tell her: “You, surrounded by stars, have held my gaze for so, so long.”

Finished reading already? It’s so short!

Jian Xin closed the notebook and gently nudged it to her left, bumping her elbow against her deskmate’s.

Teacher Liang, her pale green Little Bee clipped to her waist, strolled leisurely down the aisles between the rows of desks, calmly reviewing the monthly exam paper.

Yan Lu retrieved the notebook and nonchalantly pressed it beneath her exam paper.

The next moment, their eyes met.

Jian Xin mouthed silently to Yan Lu, her lips forming a clear message: Hurry up and write!

Yan Lu nodded, flipped open the hidden notebook beneath her exam paper, and began scribbling furtively.

“Let’s move on to the next question. Tell me, what’s the answer?”

Little Bee’s muffled voice suddenly came from behind. Yan Lu, tense with anxiety, completely covered her notebook with her test paper.

Only a few students responded softly to the teacher’s question, but this didn’t stop her from continuing to explain the test.

“Correct, the answer is ‘dog’,” she said, quickly analyzing the grammar. Then, she added casually, “This is very simple. It’s been on the test many times. If you’re still getting it wrong, you really shouldn’t be.”

Jian Xin glanced at her own test paper.

Hmm, I got it wrong.

I really shouldn’t have.

But she didn’t care.

Resting her chin in her hand, Jian Xin stared blankly at her test paper for a while before suddenly picking up her pencil and listlessly doodling on her scratch paper.

It wasn’t until the bell rang, Teacher Liang left the classroom, and Yan Lu pulled her test paper aside slightly that Jian Xin perked up. She excitedly leaned over to peek at the notebook, which Yan Lu’s test paper had been firmly covering. “How much have you written?”

Yan Lu pulled the test paper aside a little further.

Jian Xin glanced at it and couldn’t help but exclaim, “Ah! You’ve barely written less than a page?”

Yan Lu: “Teacher Liang keeps wandering around…”

Jian Xin: “She’s not going to catch anyone. What are you so worried about?”

Yan Lu: “……”

Seeing Yan Lu’s silence, Jian Xin smiled and placed the little stick figure she had just drawn in front of her. “Look!”

Yan Lu tilted her head and glanced at it. “What’s this?”

“Can’t you tell?” Jian Xin pointed to the two crooked, large-headed figures on the paper. “This one with the shoulder-length bob is Li Xia! And this one with the pigtails is Lin Xiaoshuang!”

The figure with the bob grinned widely, baring its teeth in what was supposed to be a smile.

The figure with pigtails had two fried-egg eyes and a downturned mouth, likely meant to be crying.

“……” Yan Lu opened her mouth, hesitating between speaking and remaining silent.

“Alright, I know it’s not pretty. I’m a music student, so it’s normal for me to lack artistic talent,” Jian Xin said nonchalantly, reaching to take back the draft paper.

Yan Lu suddenly burst out laughing and, before Jian Xin could retrieve her “masterpiece,” quickly tucked the paper into her English textbook.

“It’s beautiful!” she declared, placing the book into her backpack.

“Wow, you’re really giving me face, lying through your teeth!” Jian Xin chuckled, then suddenly realized something, her expression darkening. She planted her hands on her hips and demanded, “Yan Lu, you’re not planning to keep this drawing just to laugh at me later, are you?!”

“How could I?” Yan Lu couldn’t help but grin.

“You’re smiling!” Jian Xin now understood completely. “You are going to keep this thing to make fun of me!”

“It’s normal for someone studying music to lack artistic talent, right?”

“……” The logic was sound, but coming from Yan Lu, it sounded… off.

Whatever. If you dare to draw, you can’t be afraid of being laughed at!

Instead of dwelling on this, she’d rather keep pestering Yan Lu for updates.

“Hurry up and write! I’m waiting to read it!”

As she spoke, Jian Xin pulled out her MP4 player, handed one earbud to Yan Lu, and sprawled face-down on the desk, closing her eyes and falling asleep instantly.

That evening, after Evening Self-Study ended, Jian Xin took her monthly exam results home.

Huang He, her mother, sat in the brightly lit living room, carefully reviewing the report card.

The ethereal chime of the ten o’clock bell echoed through the room, lending an enigmatic quality to the faint smile on Huang He’s face.

Jian Xin had always found the sound of old-fashioned wall clocks unsettling, and that feeling reached its peak the moment Huang He looked up at her.

“Oh, your class ranking improved significantly this time! You even managed a single-digit placement!”

“……”

“Didn’t you make a study plan for yourself during the midterms?”

“Plans are just for show,” Jian Xin said, pursing her lips and avoiding eye contact. “No one actually follows through with them, right?”

“You’re not changing your desk partner?” Huang He asked.

“I’ve suddenly realized my desk partner is actually pretty good. No need to change!” Jian Xin said with a giggle. “Aiya, Mom! Stop being so sarcastic! I’m making progress, aren’t I? Even a small improvement is still a win!”

“Look!” She plopped down next to her mother and began counting on her fingers. “Piano, music theory, sight-reading and ear training, vocal lessons—that’s so many classes every week! And I still managed to improve my academic grades! You should be praising me!”

“I’m not going to praise you,” Huang He said.

Jian Xin fell silent.

“But I won’t scold you either.”

Jian Xin breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s good enough for me!”

“When your father gets back from his business trip, you’ll have to tell him about your grades yourself. I won’t put in a good word for you,” Huang He said, glancing at the bowl of sliced apples on the table. “Eat your fruit and go to bed early.”

“If you’re not going to scold me, Dad won’t dare to either!” Jian Xin grinned as she picked up the bowl of apple slices. “Mom, let me tell you about my desk mate!”

“Go ahead.”

“She used to be so quiet, but we’ve gotten closer recently, and she’s started talking more!”

“Do you know how we became friends? It all started with a meal…”

“She’s a boarding student, but her family only pays for her lunch each month. I couldn’t just stand by and watch…”

Jian Xin chattered non-stop for ages, following Huang He from the living room all the way to the bathroom, her enthusiasm bubbling over.

Huang He listened patiently until the end, then gently patted Jian Xin’s head. “A small kindness is appreciated, but a large one can breed resentment. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to help others, but if you go too far, they might resent you when you eventually need to stop.”

Jian Xin fell silent, her expression darkening.

What’s with this? Adults always have to pour cold water on everything, acting like they can see through everything so easily!

Yan Lu was such a sweet girl—polite, quiet, and timid, her voice barely louder than a whisper. She was always agreeable and never argued, making her easy to get along with.

Besides, the monthly meal fees had to be paid in advance. Once the money was on the card, not using it would be a waste, and eating more wouldn’t cost extra.

All I’m doing is sharing one dinner with Yan Lu each day. How could that possibly lead to resentment?

Ugh, if I’d known Mom would be such a buzzkill, I wouldn’t have said anything…

Whatever. I might as well just wash up and go to bed.

The first rays of dawn warmed Jian Xin’s skin.

She squinted open one eye.

The familiar sealed windows, the familiar blue snowflowers, and the familiar swing chair filled her with a familiar sense of helplessness.

Great, I’m still on Yan Lu’s balcony.

Xin Xin, the Corgi, had quietly snuggled up beside her, its head resting on a fuzzy slipper it had dragged over from somewhere. The dog lay sprawled out, fast asleep.

Gazing at Xin Xin, Jian Xin felt her mind begin to drift.

Isn’t it strange? I, who used to be terrified of dogs, am now completely unafraid of this Corgi beside me.

Is this right? Is this the life I’m supposed to be living?

Sometimes she genuinely wondered if Yan Lu’s duck had secretly violated the ancestral decree against supernatural beings, possessing mysterious powers beyond human comprehension.

To be honest, there was still some resentment between her and Yan Lu. After all, if Yan Lu hadn’t harbored such deep resentment, she wouldn’t have vanished so completely from Jian Xin’s world.

So completely that every means of contact Jian Xin could think of had become utterly useless overnight.

To sever all ties with her, Yan Lu had even abandoned her author account, the one that had provided her with a stable income.

Jian Xin had never seen anyone so utterly resolute.

Now that she occasionally found herself inhabiting this duck’s body, she wondered if the duck was truly seeking revenge for its former owner.

The explanation seemed absurd, but no more absurd than a living human intermittently transforming into a duck.

Why not try begging for mercy? At least struggle a little?

Treat it like a dead horse—what’s the harm in trying? Even if I’m wrong, it can’t make things any worse!

“Quack—” Great Duck Immortal, please spare me!

“Quack quack quack quack—quack quack quack—”

Whether human or duck, it’s tough just to make it through life. Seriously, it’s not easy for anyone.

“Quack quack quack quack quack quack quack—”

Since we’re all struggling, why keep tormenting a stranger who’s lost their job and been in a car accident, all over some old grudges?

“Quack?” That’s going too far, right?!

Xin Xin’s ears twitched slightly at the duck’s squawking.

She had been sleeping soundly when the sudden, piercing cries jolted her awake. With a disgruntled grunt, she wiggled her bottom, kicked her little legs, and delivered two mighty kicks to Ya Ya’s rear, who was still pondering the supernatural mysteries of the duck.

The two kicks jolted Jian Xin awake, sending the entire duck leaping backward half a meter.

Xin Xin tilted her neck, closed her eyes, and resumed sleeping in a new position.

So wronged, she thought. Utterly wronged.

Why, of all the domestic animals in the world, did Yan Lu choose to raise a weak and defenseless Call Duck?

If only this woman had kept a goose, Xin Xin and I would at least have a fighting chance!

Jian Xin sighed, her neck curving downward, and curled up beside the flowerpot, drifting back into a deep slumber.

Around ten in the morning, Yan Lu emerged from her bedroom, her long hair disheveled.

Hearing the movement, Jian Xin sprang up and followed her to the bathroom door, tilting her head to gaze at Yan Lu as she washed her face.

After finishing her morning routine, Yan Lu noticed the little duck still watching her from the doorway. She crouched down, stroked Jian Xin’s soft chest, and asked with a smile, “What’s wrong, Cauliflower?”

Jian Xin flapped her wings and quacked, “Quack—”

She wanted to say, Nothing, I’m just bored.

“Hungry, aren’t you?” Yan Lu said, patting Jian Xin’s head. She stood up and headed to the kitchen, murmuring soothing words to the duck under her breath. “Don’t worry, don’t worry, I’ll cut some fruit for you right away.”

Yan Lu hadn’t finished cutting the fruit when Xin Xin, wagging its tail, trotted over.

A duck and a dog stood side by side, both looking up at their owner in the kitchen.

Soon, the two little companions were enjoying their first meal of the day.

Yan Lu turned on her computer and, as usual, played soothing, light music.

The morning sunlight wasn’t too harsh yet, so she watered the flowers on the balcony for a while before returning to her study. She took a book from the shelf and settled into the swing chair on the balcony to read.

Jian Xin couldn’t help but glance at the balcony.

For a fleeting moment, she felt a subtle, almost unsettling sensation.

The person before her seemed utterly out of place in the busy world Jian Xin knew so well.

Fresh flowers bathed in morning sunlight, a swing chair, and a book—these were luxuries most people, caught up in their hectic lives, rarely had the time to appreciate.

It seemed Yan Lu had truly lived well these past years.

That’s good…

At least, far better than I have.

Yan Lu didn’t read for long. After finishing her breakfast, Xin Xin trotted onto the balcony, its dog leash dangling from its mouth, and began circling her, playfully nudging her with its nose.

“Xin Xin wants to go play, doesn’t she?” Yan Lu said with a smile, crouching down to clip on the leash.

As soon as Yan Lu stood up, Xin Xin dragged her out of the study and hurried her to the front door.

“Mommy hasn’t changed yet!” Yan Lu clipped the leash to the doorknob and quickly changed into a skirt in the bedroom.

Xin Xin barked impatiently by the door. As Yan Lu slipped on her shoes, she soothed, “Alright, alright, almost ready. Why are you always in such a rush to go out, Xin Xin?”

When the door opened, Jian Xin instinctively glanced into the living room.

Yan Lu waved at her. “Cauliflower, want to come along?”

“Quack.” No, I’m too lazy!

Jian Xin flapped her wings, turned around, and waddled back to the study, her tail feathers sticking up.

With Xin Xin taking Yan Lu away, the house was once again left with only one listless duck.

Yan Lu had left in such a hurry that she hadn’t even turned off the music playing on the computer.

Jian Xin stared at the computer screen for a long time, hesitating.

She knew it was impolite to snoop on someone else’s computer, but she couldn’t shake her curiosity.

Even after a nap, she was still obsessed with figuring out what that song from yesterday was all about.

Some things just gnawed at her until she investigated them, especially when she had the means to do so.

As the clock struck eleven, the little duck flapped her wings, hopped onto the chair, jumped onto the desk, and, with great difficulty, maneuvered the mouse with her small orange-yellow webbed foot.

Damn it! No one ever told her a mouse could be this difficult to use!

Duck paws are utterly useless for precise movements!

“Quack, quack, quack!”

Have you ever risked your life just to find a playlist?!

Jian Xin swore to the heavens she would never do this again in her life—it was simply too hard!

How does Yan Lu have so many playlists?!

Modern Pop, Classical Chinese, Hidden Gems, Mood: Unclear, Afternoon Tea, Untitled 1, Untitled 2…

Reader Recommendations, Friend Recommendations, Reading Music, Daydreaming Music, Sweet Moments Music…

Wait, wait—

Why is there a Sad Songs Only playlist?!

After exhausting every ounce of her strength, Jian Xin finally managed to find last night’s playlist—1—by comparing song titles in the vast sea of music.

Hmm, 1?

Such a lazy playlist name! No wonder Ya Ya couldn’t find it for ages.

This was a local playlist, and every song in it was at least a decade old, each one they had listened to together…

More importantly, every song in this playlist was named in the format “Artist + Song Title.”

Scrolling down to the “J” section, Jian Xin found a long list filled with her name.

As dusk painted the sky with a soft, lavender-tinged glow, they stood on the high arch of the lakeside bridge, letting the cool evening breeze tangle their hair.

Li Xia gazed at the purple twilight and suddenly sighed, “If we ever have to go our separate ways, would you find a friend better than me?”

“I wouldn’t,” Lin Xiaoshuang murmured, her voice barely audible.

Li Xia smiled, her smile brighter than the twilight sky. “A lifetime is so long,” she teased. “We haven’t even graduated high school yet. How can you be so sure?”

“I just wouldn’t,” Lin Xiaoshuang insisted, a stubborn edge creeping into her tone.

In that moment, Lin Xiaoshuang was thinking:

If we ever grow distant, I’ll collect every memory of Li Xia—every detail, every moment—and hide them in a place no one else knows. I’ll take them out from time to time, just to look at them.

That way, when we finally reunite, I can reminisce with Li Xia about our past as if it were a treasure trove we share.

Li Xia would be so pleased, wouldn’t she?

But I wonder if I’ll ever be brave enough to say—

Li Xia, my world revolves around you.