Little Duckling - Chapter 16

When she was young, Jian Xin’s memory was exceptionally sharp, especially when it came to things unrelated to studying.

She once believed that stories she had loved with all her heart would be etched into her memory for life.

But now, looking back, she had to admit that the story she had read in her classmate’s notebook so many years ago had long since faded from her mind.

It was a novel the author had never published online, a tale that existed only in their shared memories.

She tried desperately to recall it, but could only piece together fragmented snippets.

Yet no matter how hazy her memories became, she still remembered one passage vividly:

Lin Xiaoshuang left Li Xia like a fish leaving water.

And fish cannot survive without water.

If Li Xia never returns…

Then she will suffocate beneath a sunless sea—a frozen wasteland, the tomb of her memories.

Jian Xin returned to the hospital around noon.

She was curled up in her “duck nest,” as she called her bed, looking as blank as a soulless glutinous rice ball.

The computer, already in screensaver mode, played a light, refreshing instrumental piece in 3/4 time, its rhythm gentle and airy.

The screensaver displayed a deep blue forest under a full moon, where white deer drank from a stream.

Fireflies danced through the thin mist, their soft glow flickering in time with the music, as if inviting viewers into a fairytale dream.

Suddenly, the door creaked open, shattering the tranquility.

Yan Lu must be back from walking the dog, Jian Xin thought, opening her eyes with mixed emotions.

The light instrumental music abruptly stopped. Jian Xin stared at the pale blue curtains fluttering by the bed for several seconds until Yao Wenqian closed the door, tiptoed to the bedside, and gently placed a lunchbox on the table. Only then did Jian Xin realize she was back in the hospital.

“You’re awake,” Yao Wenqian said.

“Mmm…”

Jian Xin always felt dizzy after returning from her travels, as if she’d been hit over the head the night before.

She clenched her left hand into a fist and gently massaged her temples.

“The sun’s already shining on your butt! Let’s eat something first.”

“Mmm…”

Yao Wenqian skillfully set up the small table at the foot of Jian Xin’s bed, then helped her sit up and handed her a pair of chopsticks.

Jian Xin: “Um, about last night…”

Yao Wenqian: “I could tell you were really tired. Seven o’clock? That’s when the night life just starts! But you passed out right after the commercials! You were sleeping so soundly, I didn’t want to wake you, so I went home and watched it on my computer.”

Jian Xin: “……”

“But you’re recovering from an injury, so it’s understandable.” Yao Wenqian giggled as she took the food out of the lunchbox. “I can watch it with you again.”

As she spoke, she pulled out her phone, opened the video platform, and waved the screen in front of Jian Xin’s face. “I even bought the VIP package! I was just waiting for you to wake up so we could watch it together.”

“Uh, ah… oh!” Jian Xin snapped out of her daze. “Okay, okay! Should we watch it now?”

“Sure!” Yao Wenqian immediately set up her phone stand and excitedly clicked on the latest episode that had been released last night.

The opening credits were automatically skipped, and the familiar sponsor’s jingle began to play again.

Jian Xin couldn’t resist asking, “Oh, Qian Qian, can I ask you something?”

Yao Wenqian: “What is it?”

Jian Xin: “How long has your cousin been living in Jin City?”

Yao Wenqian: “About three years, I think.”

Jian Xin: “Why did she move here?”

Yao Wenqian blinked, answering without hesitation, her voice brimming with certainty: “Because I’m here, of course!”

Jian Xin: “…Oh.”

Yao Wenqian: “Is something wrong?”

“No, just… it’s a coincidence that we’ve been living in the same city all this time,” Jian Xin said, her grip tightening on her chopsticks, though her tone remained casual. “Three years, and we’ve never even run into each other once.”

“Jin City’s huge, and my cousin’s been quite the homebody these past few years,” Yao Wenqian explained. “If she hadn’t gotten a dog, she probably wouldn’t have left the house more than a few times a year. If you hadn’t crashed into my car, we might never have met, not in three years, or even ten!”

“You’re right,” Jian Xin nodded, unable to resist correcting her. “But your car hit me, not the other way around.”

“Well, it’s all fate, isn’t it? If this hadn’t happened, you and my cousin would never have reconciled, right?” Yao Wenqian said, dragging the drama’s progress bar back a bit. “Quick, let’s watch! It’s starting!”

Jian Xin murmured an “Oh,” and stopped asking questions, her gaze drifting absently to the phone screen.

Had she and Yan Lu truly reconciled?

Yao Wenqian and Yan Lu had arranged to take turns caring for Jian Xin at the hospital until she was discharged. The division of labor was roughly this: Yao Wenqian handled mornings and midday, while Yan Lu covered afternoons and evenings.

But Yao Wenqian seemed to have plenty of free time. Ever since discovering they could watch dramas together, she’d lost all motivation to go home, preferring to drag Jian Xin into binge-watching sessions and scrolling through edits. Several times, she only reluctantly left after dinner.

Despite this, Yan Lu still insisted on arriving at the hospital around 2 PM every afternoon, quietly staying by Jian Xin’s side until 9 or 10 PM.

Last night, Yao Wenqian had insisted on staying up late with her to wait for the drama’s update. Yan Lu, feeling it unnecessary for both of them to stay so late, left the hospital early.

Objectively speaking, Yan Lu had been remarkably attentive and patient during this time, showing no signs of impatience whatsoever.

Yet, despite having exchanged QQ, WeChat, and phone numbers, Yan Lu never offered her any contact information of her own.

Could this truly be considered a reconciliation?

Jian Xin couldn’t figure it out…

It wasn’t so much about whether she and Yan Lu had truly reconciled, but rather whether there was any real need for them to maintain contact after this.

She would be discharged in a few days. Once she no longer needed their meticulous care, and Yao Wenqian handled the subsequent compensation matters alone, would she and Yan Lu ever see each other again?

Seven years had passed since their breakup, and many once-familiar things now felt utterly foreign.

Perhaps her relationship with Yan Lu was no exception.

Ultimately, the so-called “love” simply doesn’t have the enduring shelf life depicted in novels.

The people she once thought she couldn’t live without, the obstacles she believed she could never overcome, had all faded into distant memories, almost erased from her life.

Thus, their long-awaited reunion consisted only of a brief greeting at the hospital bedside and an awkward exchange of small talk, their conversation clearly strained and forced.

There was none of the imagined love, hatred, arguments, or lingering entanglement.

Jian Xin thought she should be grateful.

At least this reunion was dignified enough. At least they could still go their separate ways, as if they had never met again.

But all of this hinged on her not having turned into a duck and not having impulsively checked someone’s playlist.

Jian Xin had always considered herself broad-minded.

No matter how far she traveled or how hard she fell, she had always firmly believed that nothing in life truly mattered except life and death.

She had even accepted her transformation into a duck after the car accident with remarkable ease. Yet the moment she saw the playlist, her emotions surged like a tsunami, refusing to subside for a long time.

On the small phone screen, two people who had been forced to abandon everything and flee to the ends of the earth, huddled around a campfire, gazing at the stars, finally found the courage to open their hearts to each other in this desolate wilderness.

The familiar scene unfolded once more before her eyes.

“Have you ever seen a fish that, instead of dying when it left the water, grew wings and, bathed in moonlight, struggled to fly into the sky?”

“On that night of soaring flight, battered and bruised, it was washed ashore by the waves. The suffocating sensation nearly drove it back to the sea, but the thought that the ocean behind it no longer welcomed its existence steeled its resolve. Enduring the pain, it transformed its fins into wings and flew away without looking back.”

“Later, it lived a good life…”

The blue-robed girl hugged her knees and whispered, “As long as you’re willing to keep moving forward, no matter the suffering, there will always come a day when it becomes the past.”

At that moment, a spark flickered in her eyes, brighter than the distant stars.

But the viewer’s eyes blurred with tears.

Jian Xin felt she might be transforming into a duck too often, perhaps developing some kind of mental fatigue. Otherwise, why would she be crying so uncontrollably in such a peaceful setting—crying so hard that even the food in her hand lost its flavor?

Yao Wenqian’s eyes widened in surprise, showing no sympathy for her drama-watching companion.

“Wow, you’re crying at this!”

“……” She didn’t want to cry, but she couldn’t help it!

“I thought my tear ducts were well-developed, but you’ve got me beat!”

“……” She used to hate crying! It must be Yan Lu… that damn Duck’s fault!

After getting out of the hospital, she’d definitely make time to visit a temple and pray properly. While she was there, she’d find a wise master to check if she’d been cursed or something. How else could she explain being repeatedly dragged to Yan Lu’s house by a Duck?!

That’s it! I’ve decided!

With this settled, Jian Xin quickly typed a message and sent it to the band’s Q Group:

Drinking My Ass Off · Zzzz

National First-Class Protected Waste: Who wants to go to the temple with me after I get out of the hospital?

Yuezi Says Even Dogs Won’t Drink with Xinzi: What’s with the superstition?

Outdated Blue Slim Mushroom: What’s with the superstition?

National First-Class Protected Waste: I’ve been feeling unlucky lately. Might as well pray, just in case?

Almost Done, Can Submit Tomorrow: Blank stare

Yuezi said even dogs wouldn’t drink with Xinzi: You brought this bad luck on yourself.

Outdated Blue Slim Mushroom: You brought this bad luck on yourself.

National First-Class Protected Waste: One word: Are you in or out?

Yuezi said even dogs wouldn’t drink with Xinzi: In! In! In!

Outdated Blue Slim Mushroom: In! In! In!

Almost done, can submit tomorrow: In! In! In!

Yuezi said even dogs wouldn’t drink with Xinzi: Heal your injuries first. Otherwise, forget about praying—you can barely walk a few steps.

Outdated Blue Slim Mushroom: Exactly!

National First-Class Protected Waste: OK

“Sister Jian Xin?” Yao Wenqian couldn’t help but ask, “Are you busy with work? Should we pause for a bit?”

“No need, just keep watching!” Jian Xin said, putting down her phone.

She had steeled herself. This time, she wouldn’t cry!

That afternoon, as Yan Lu entered the hospital room, she saw two tear-soaked figures on the bed, sobbing uncontrollably.

Surprised, she leaned closer to look. The wastebasket by the window was nearly overflowing with crumpled, wet tissues.

In the next moment, the two tear-soaked figures glared at her with a hint of resentment.

After a brief pause, Yan Lu glanced out the window and said, “…The epilogue is good.”

Yao Wenqian: Step-mother!

Yan Lu: “The epilogue was filmed. The last two episodes are it.”

Jian Xin: “Is belated sugar still sugar?”

Yan Lu: “Then don’t eat it.”

Jian Xin: “……”

Look at this! Is she even speaking like a human being?