Little Duckling - Chapter 18

As if anyone wanted to see this!

September 13th marked Jian Xin’s discharge from the hospital.

Yan Lu arrived early in the morning to handle the discharge procedures.

This was Jian Xin’s first hospitalization, and she was unfamiliar with the process. She could only listen to Yao Wenqian’s complaints about the hassle—the hospital’s endless paperwork and requests. Her cousin had been running around for over an hour just to get the paperwork done, leaving Jian Xin feeling somewhat embarrassed.

After all, Yan Lu would normally still be asleep at this hour.

“I’m really sorry for all the trouble,” Jian Xin said with an awkward smile. “We haven’t seen each other in years, and the first thing I do is make you run around for me for days…”

“My cousin was the one who hit you,” Yan Lu replied. “She’s young and didn’t want her family to find out, so of course I had to help.” As she spoke, she glanced at Jian Xin’s phone amidst Yao Wenqian’s giggling. “Have you told your friends to come pick you up?”

“Oh, they’ll come by in the afternoon when they’re free,” Jian Xin replied.

“That’s good.”

A brief silence settled over the hospital room.

Seeing no one was speaking, Yao Wenqian pulled out her phone and started playing a Fallen Jade Branch edit she’d found the night before, excitedly sharing it with the distracted Jian Xin.

The sharing session stretched on for quite some time.

The afternoon sun blazed, its glare almost blinding.

Jin City had just experienced a brief sun shower, leaving the air thick with humidity and stifling heat.

When Yao Wenqian saw the rain had stopped, she announced she was going downstairs to buy some snacks, leaving only two silent figures in the hospital room.

Yan Lu leaned slightly against the windowsill, gazing at the rain-darkened ground outside.

Jian Xin quietly watched Yan Lu, wanting to speak but unsure how to begin.

She had been pondering this for days, both as a human and as a Duck.

She should ask Yan Lu for her contact information.

Jian Xin swore to herself that she had no intention of rekindling their relationship.

The reason she needed Yan Lu’s contact information was because her intermittent transformations into a Duck remained unresolved.

If praying at the temple and consulting experts yielded no solutions, she would need to stay in touch with Yan Lu, investigate thoroughly, and uncover the root cause of this supernatural phenomenon.

Yes, that was it—she was simply taking proactive steps to save herself!

But Yan Lu was now living a life of extraordinary success: wealthy, famous, with a house and a car. She was no longer the vulnerable young woman who once relied on Jian Xin’s kindness just to get a decent meal.

Jian Xin had fallen so far behind Yan Lu that they were worlds apart. Even a casual mention of their past might seem like she was trying to climb the social ladder in Yan Lu’s eyes.

Ugh, I can’t bring myself to say it!

“You have something you want to say,” Yan Lu suddenly interrupted Jian Xin’s tangled thoughts.

“Uh…” Jian Xin snapped back to reality, pursing her lips.

Wasn’t she looking out the window? How did she know I wanted to say something?

Fine, since I’ve been called out, I might as well say it now. I might not get another chance later!

Jian Xin cleared her throat, trying to sound nonchalant. “It’s nothing really. I just realized I don’t have your current contact information.”

Yan Lu remained silent for several seconds before coldly asking, “Is there any need?”

Jian Xin opened her mouth, her tone uncertain but with a hint of stubbornness. “There might be…?”

Yan Lu: “It’s been seven years.”

“Oh, don’t misunderstand!” Jian Xin frowned, rushing to explain. “I don’t mean anything by it. It’s just that your cousin is young, and she might not be as familiar with the compensation details as you are. She’ll probably ask you anyway, so it would save time and effort if I just talked to you directly.”

“Oh,” Yan Lu replied, getting up and walking to the bedside. “Q/Q or WeChat?”

“WeChat, I use it more these days,” Jian Xin said, smiling as she handed over a QR code she had prepared in advance.

After scanning the code, Jian Xin glanced down at her “new friend.”

Yan Lu’s WeChat name was “Wanderer,” and her profile picture was Xin Xin the dog, sticking out her tongue and tilting her head with a grin—not Yan Lu herself.

Jian Xin opened the full-sized image for a closer look, then asked with feigned innocence, “Your profile picture is so cute! Is that your dog?”

“Aren’t you afraid of dogs?” Yan Lu countered.

Jian Xin chuckled. “People change, you know. I’m not as scared as I used to be.”

To be more precise, she hadn’t been afraid at all lately.

“Dogs are so lively, playful, and affectionate. Sometimes I really want to get one, but I have no experience and worry I wouldn’t take good care of it, which would be unfair to the poor little thing,” Jian Xin said, her eyebrows arching into a smile. “If it’s convenient, could I come over to your place and pet your dog?”

“My dog is shy around strangers.”

“……”

Shy around strangers?

I don’t believe you for a second!

Xin Xin is clearly the type to greet everyone with enthusiasm. I saw it myself when we walked her together the other day!

This blatant lie was a clear rejection.

Jian Xin remained silent for a long moment before quietly opening Yan Lu’s profile to take another look.

Signature: Not online often. Long hiatuses. For urgent matters, contact elsewhere.

“Um, how about… we add each other on Q?” Jian Xin held up her phone, gently waving Yan Lu’s profile page. “You don’t seem to use this much.”

Yan Lu closed WeChat, opened Q/Q, and tapped the scan code interface. “Code.”

“Oh, right!” Jian Xin hurriedly navigated the unfamiliar Q/Q interface.

“Where is it…?” she muttered under her breath.

Having used WeChat for so long, she was now struggling to understand this slightly more complex interface.

Yan Lu couldn’t help but offer a reminder: “Top right corner, the plus sign. Scan, and it’s in the bottom left.”

“Oh, oh, oh!” Jian Xin exclaimed in realization, holding up the code for Yan Lu to scan.

Finally adding Yan Lu as a friend, Jian Xin felt a heavy weight lift from her heart.

She tentatively asked, “Should we exchange phone numbers, just in case?”

But Yan Lu rejected the idea without hesitation.

She explained that as long as she was awake, she could be reached on Q/Q, making phone calls unnecessary.

Jian Xin awkwardly closed her mouth, and the hospital room fell silent once more.

Where did Yao Wenqian go to buy food? She’s been gone forever…

“Jian Xin.”

“Huh?” Jian Xin looked up, her expression surprised.

The sudden call startled her, leaving her momentarily dazed.

“Let me take another look at the doctor’s orders,” Yan Lu said.

“Oh.” Jian Xin glanced at the bedside table. “I put them under my notebook so they wouldn’t blow away.”

Yan Lu retrieved the orders, sat on the edge of the bed, and studied them for a moment before saying calmly, “You’ve only been discharged, not fully recovered. You’ll need several follow-up appointments, and there are dietary and medication precautions to follow. Your hands and feet are still a bit clumsy, so you need plenty of rest.”

What is this?

Is she… concerned about me?

Jian Xin tilted her head, utterly bewildered, and let out a confused “Hmm?”

Seeing her utterly clueless expression, Yan Lu cut to the chase. “So, you still don’t plan to tell your aunt and uncle?”

Jian Xin snapped back to attention. “Why would I tell them?”

Yan Lu: “So they can come take care of you.”

“Psh, no need…” Jian Xin shook her head vigorously, patting her functional leg. “My parents haven’t retired yet. This leg can still hop, my hands work fine, and I can eat, drink, and use the bathroom just fine. Why would I make them take time off work to come all this way and keep me company?”

“……”

“Don’t worry, I’m the legendary Crash Queen! Even after flying through the air, I was out of the hospital in just half a month,” Jian Xin said with a cheerful self-deprecating laugh, her face radiating nonchalance. “My bones have been tough since I was a kid!”

As she finished speaking, she thought she heard a faint chuckle. But when she looked up, she saw nothing.

Yan Lu folded the doctor’s instructions, tucked them back under her notebook, and said softly, “Let me know if you need anything after you’re discharged. Don’t hesitate to ask.”

Jian Xin blinked, the corners of her mouth curving upward involuntarily.

“Okay,” she murmured, feeling a strange sense of relief.

Soon, Yan Lu got up and returned to her seat by the window, while Jian Xin lowered her head and began tapping on her phone again.

First, she opened Yan Lu’s WeChat Moments—completely blank, nothing there at all.

After a brief pause, she switched to Q/Q and clicked on Yan Lu’s profile.

This was even more direct—she didn’t even have permission to view it.

Tch! As if I even wanted to see it!

Jian Xin gritted her teeth and silently changed Yan Lu’s friend permissions to “chat only.”

The next moment, she tossed her phone aside and closed her eyes in annoyance.

Did she care?

Not one bit!