Little Duckling - Chapter 20

Jian Xin pondered Yan Lu’s request for Lin Xiyu to help her secure a major project for a long time, but she couldn’t make sense of it.

She sat at her computer thinking, lay in the duck nest thinking, and curled up in the doghouse thinking.

The song “Can’t Get Over It” had naturally faded away without her needing to skip it, yet she found herself once again unable to move on.

It wasn’t that she was too heartbroken to move on, but rather that a long-severed string in her heart—a string that had been broken for ages—seemed to have been suddenly yanked taut, pulling her long-healed heart into a tight, painful tension.

What did Yan Lu mean by this?

What were her true feelings about their reunion?

Jian Xin considered countless possibilities, but the lack of confirmation left her mind in turmoil.

That day, she lingered listlessly at Yan Lu’s house for hours.

Xin Xin repeatedly ran over to play with her, but Jian Xin barely acknowledged her, letting the dog’s paws push her head around without protest.

Sometimes Jian Xin wondered if her mind had lost its sharpness lately, all thanks to the energetic Gouzi’s relentless pawing.

But with no proof and no escape, she remained at the mercy of the dog’s capricious bullying.

Jian Xin couldn’t help but imagine the day she could stand before that mischievous little dog as a human. She vowed to grab it, just like Lady Shiji would with a cat, and give it a thorough, teeth-gritting cuddle to vent her pent-up resentment.

Speaking of which, Yan Lu had taken the dog for its morning walk, then retreated to bed for a nap, not waking again until after 4 PM.

On days when she didn’t need to visit the hospital, Yan Lu’s schedule was so free it bordered on the nocturnal.

Yet despite her nocturnal habits, she slept soundly every day, her face completely free of dark circles. Her life was far more comfortable than Jian Xin’s days spent toiling like a beast of burden for the company.

After lounging in the doghouse for a while, Jian Xin suddenly heard Yan Lu stirring. She couldn’t resist getting up, waddling over to Yan Lu’s feet, and following her into the kitchen.

“Hungry?” Yan Lu asked, glancing down at the little duck trailing behind her.

Jian Xin flapped her wings and settled down at Yan Lu’s feet.

She wasn’t actually hungry; the duck feed was right next to the doghouse, so she could peck at it whenever she pleased.

She was simply bored, unable to return home, and just wanted to look around.

“What’s wrong?” Yan Lu crouched down and smoothed Jian Xin’s feathers.

“Quack! Quack-quack!” Mind your own business! I’m fine!

Yan Lu couldn’t understand duck language. Hearing its quacking, she assumed the little duck was just feeling emotional and immediately cradled it in her arms, stroking it gently.

The Call Duck’s head was inexplicably amusing to her—it would shrink back with each touch.

At times like these, all she had to do was lightly support the duck’s nape with one hand and repeatedly stroke its head with her thumb. The little duck’s head would bob up and down in rapid, small motions, its blank, beady eyes making it look utterly adorable.

It seemed that no matter what was bothering her, this kind of petting could bring her a measure of comfort.

Jian Xin had lost count of how many times her head had been rubbed. All she knew was that Yan Lu had just left her brain feeling dazed—once she was done having her fun, she simply tossed Jian Xin back onto the floor.

Jian Xin tilted her head back, gazing up at Yan Lu.

The room was quiet, as if time itself moved a little slower here.

Yan Lu leisurely prepared her meal, carried her bowl and chopsticks to the computer, and spent a long time eating while watching videos.

Afterward, she slowly washed the bowl, dried her hands, picked up a book, and leisurely strolled to the swing chair on the balcony.

Jian Xin followed her, tilting her head back the entire way. Before her little feet had even settled, Yan Lu scooped her up from the floor and settled them both onto the swing chair.

Perched on Yan Lu’s lap, Little Duck stared blankly for a moment before craning her neck to glance at the book in Yan Lu’s hand.

She would have been better off not looking. The moment she read the title, the little duck closed her eyes in fury.

How to Not Like Someone?

What did that even mean?

She demanded to know, in broad daylight!

What was Ms. Jian doing, cooped up at home reading a book like this?!

After pondering the question without finding an answer, Duck flapped her wings in a huff and hopped off Yan Lu’s lap.

Xin Xin lay quietly nearby, basking in the sun with drowsy eyes. Startled by Duck’s sudden jump, he lifted his head, his large eyes filled with confusion.

Duck strutted back to the study with a determined waddle, ignoring all onlookers. She found her food bowl and began eating with her head buried in it.

Xin Xin tilted his head, staring blankly for a moment. Fully awake now, he stretched lazily, arching his back, and trotted over to Duck’s side. Without a hint of hesitation, he began eating the duck feed from the bowl, completely disregarding Duck’s protests.

Jian Xin took two steps back, giving up the competition with Xin Xin.

Yet, after only two seconds, Xin Xin stopped eating too, tilting his head to watch her.

Jian Xin waited a moment, then stretched her neck to resume eating. Xin Xin immediately nudged his head forward again.

She finally understood: this dog was just teasing the duck.

“Quack quack quack quack!”

Cauliflower, oh Cauliflower, what kind of life are you living?

“Quack?”

You keep tying me up every day. Are you secretly asking for my help?

Gagaga—gaaaaa!

How about we make a deal? Stop tying me up, and I’ll think of a way to come back and help you get revenge. Sound good?

Clearly, Jian Xin’s attempts at reasoning were futile.

She didn’t know if Cauliflower could even hear her, but Xin Xin, annoyed by the noise, leaped up and swatted at her mouth.

By the time Jian Xin returned home, the sky outside her window was already dark.

Despite having eaten and relieved herself repeatedly at Yan Lu’s house, her first sensation upon regaining her own body was overwhelming hunger. So hungry! I’m starving!

Too tired to cook, she opened Ele.me and ordered Crossing-the-Bridge Rice Noodles from a nearby restaurant.

Twenty minutes later, Jian Xin finally ate her first hot meal of the day, tears streaming down her face.

After finishing her meal and tossing the takeout container aside, Ms. Jian, undeterred by her physical limitations, hopped back to bed on one leg and stared blankly into space.

Something felt off. The more she thought about it, the more uneasy she became.

No matter how hard she tried, Jian Xin couldn’t shake her confusion. Expressionless, she picked up her phone, opened Taobao, and ordered a copy of How to Stop Liking Someone.

She was determined to examine this supposedly extraordinary book closely.

However, finishing a book, especially a non-fiction paperback, often felt like the ambitious study plans she’d made as a child to improve herself—nice to think about, but rarely followed through.

Moreover, the collection of novels by Yan Lu Er Qi, which she had ordered earlier, had arrived two days before How to Stop Liking Someone.

After tearing open the package with one hand, Jian Xin naturally placed the book in a corner of her bedroom bookshelf. Every morning, she’d glance at it—wanting to read it yet reluctant—and ultimately choose to read the novels first.

Of course, she hadn’t read much of those either.

Don’t ask. If you did, she’d just say she’d been mentally and physically exhausted lately, feeling completely drained.

She had seriously pondered this: even after quitting her job and starting fresh, how could she still be living such a listless life? It couldn’t possibly be her fault alone.

After all, anyone who spent most of their waking hours either working as a person or as a “duck” would inevitably feel mentally drained, right?

While the term “every day” was a slight exaggeration, even wearing the duck suit every few days was exhausting.

Nearly a month had passed since Jian Xin’s first transformation into a duck, yet she still couldn’t understand the reason or mechanism behind these transdimensional shifts.

All she knew was that once she crossed over, there was no telling when she might return.

Sometimes her soul would linger in the other realm for an entire day. By the time she returned, her body would be numb from sleep, her limbs weak, and her stomach growling. When she checked her phone, it would be flooded with unread messages from the Band Group and the Studio.

Would she take on a lyric-writing gig for 300 yuan per song?

Would she compose music for 500 yuan per song?

Would she arrange music for 1,000 yuan per song?

Everyone knew she was unemployed and offered her gigs first, but she often missed them the moment she opened her eyes.

Fortunately, she had some savings from previous years. With no mortgage or car loan to worry about, she could manage for now. She could afford to pass on the lowest-paying gigs—if she missed them, she missed them.

After all, bone and tendon injuries take a hundred days to heal, and her body hadn’t fully recovered yet. There was no need to rush back to work.

She’d once heard that the easiest way to build rapport with an author was to use their novels as an emotional entry point.

But first, she needed to find a way to approach Yan Lu and unravel the supernatural mystery of her intermittent duck transformations. That would inevitably require a crash course in Yan Lu’s works from the past seven years.

The problem was, words were so dense and her brain so inexplicably smooth. As soon as she opened a book, the rows of text would line up and der~der~ bounce right off her cerebral cortex.

They wouldn’t stick—not even a little!

After much deliberation, Jian Xin finally subscribed to all the major video streaming platforms and slowly began catching up on the dramas adapted from Yan Lu’s novels.

Time slipped by, and before she knew it, the day for Jian Xin’s follow-up hospital visit arrived.

The day before her appointment, Zheng Xinyue offered in the Band Group to pick her up early and drive her to the hospital.

Having finally found a legitimate reason to meet Yan Lu, Jian Xin naturally rejected Zheng Xinyue’s well-intentioned offer without hesitation.

However, treating friends this way often earns their scorn.

A few minutes later, the band group’s name was changed to— Who’s Prioritizing Romance Over Friendship? Zzzz

The three remaining active members in the group immediately launched a verbal and textual assault on the unnamed culprit for prioritizing romance over friendship.

 Yuezi – Expressionless Version:  Aiya, it’s just a rejected offer of kindness, no big deal.

 Yuezi – Expressionless Version:  As long as our Xin Xin is happy, that’s all that matters!

 Outdated Blue Slim Mushroom:  As long as Xin Xin is happy, that’s all that matters!

 Almost Done, Can Submit Tomorrow:  As long as she’s happy, that’s all that matters!

 National First-Class Protected Waste:  Sigh, it’s not what you think!

 Yuezi – Expressionless Version:  Mmm-hmm, I understand.

 Almost Done, Can Submit Tomorrow:  We get it, we all get it.

 Outdated Blue Slim Mushroom:  We all get it!

How did they suddenly all get it?

No, these three didn’t understand—

And not only did they not understand, but no one in the world could possibly understand!

Jian Xin’s current state of existence was even more bewildering than Zhuang Zhou’s dream of the butterfly. No one could possibly understand it except herself.

So she gave up trying to explain and simply sent a meme to the group chat:

National First-Class Protected Waste: I’ll never smile again.

Yuezi – Expressionless Version: Xin Xin, fly bravely! We won’t follow!

Outdated Blue Slim Mushroom: Xin Xin, fly bravely! We won’t follow!

Almost Done, Can Submit Tomorrow: Xin Xin, fly bravely! We won’t follow!

National First-Class Protected Waste: Guys, can I ask for something?

Yuezi – Expressionless Version: Xin Xin, go ahead.

Outdated Blue Slim Mushroom: Xin Xin, go ahead.

Almost Done, Can Submit Tomorrow: Xin Xin, go ahead.

National First-Class Protected Waste: Please stop calling me Xin Xin. I’ve been disliking such cutesy nicknames lately.

Truth be told, seeing “Xin Xin” reminded her of that dog who bullied her every day.

Yuezi – Expressionless Version: You dislike cutesy nicknames?

Outdated Blue Slim Mushroom: Scratches head

Yuezi – Expressionless Version: Lanlan, what do you think? @Outdated Blue Slim Mushroom

Outdated Blue Slim Mushroom: Bursts into tears

Almost Done, Can Submit Tomorrow: ╰( ̄ω ̄o) Pats head

Yuezi – Expressionless Version: Cutesy nicknames are the best!

Yuezi – Expressionless Version: Xin Xin, Lanlan, Yuan Yuan, Yuanyuan, Yan Yan—so affectionate!

Outdated Blue Slim Mushroom: And Yue Yue! laughing emoji

Yuezi – Expressionless Version: Sigh, you’ve clearly chosen romance over friendship.

Outdated Blue Slim Mushroom: cat shaking its head

Almost Done, Can Submit Tomorrow: cat sighing

Watching the lively back-and-forth in the group chat, Jian Xin felt her spirits lift considerably.

She hadn’t even mentioned the follow-up appointment to Yan Lu yet, but she had already subconsciously turned down Zheng Xinyue’s offer.

If Yan Lu refused, she’d have to go back and ask Zheng Xinyue after all.

Jian Xin sighed at the thought.

She stared at Yan Lu Er Qi’s Ya Ya duck profile picture for a long moment, finally taking three deep breaths and summoning the courage to open a private chat.

Picked Up a Heart: I have a follow-up appointment at the hospital tomorrow morning. Would you be free to give me a ride?

As soon as she sent the first message, Jian Xin clutched her phone anxiously.

After several seconds of silence, she hastily typed a few more messages.

Picked Up a Heart: I know I shouldn’t trouble you with this, but my legs are still a bit weak, and Zheng Xinyue has been really busy lately.

Picked Up a Heart: If you’re busy, it’s fine. Don’t force yourself.

Picked Up a Heart: I can just take a taxi myself. It’s not a big deal.

Picked Up a Heart: Laughing emoji

Yan Lu Er Qi: I’m free.

Yan Lu Er Qi: What time in the morning?

Picked Up a Heart: Yay!

Picked Up a Heart: Thank you! My appointment with the doctor is at 10 AM.

Yan Lu Er Qi: Where should I pick you up?

Picked Up a Heart: Sends location

Yan Lu Er Qi: Got it. See you at 9:30.

Picked Up a Heart: Okay!

Reading these brief messages, Jian Xin couldn’t help but smile.

That night, Jian Xin struggled to fall asleep.

Her previous bouts of insomnia had always been complicated by tangled emotions, but this time, her worry was remarkably simple:

She was terrified of waking up as a duck again.

The follow-up appointment itself wasn’t a big deal; it could be rescheduled.

What truly kept her awake was the thought of Yan Lu traveling all the way to her place, only to be locked out by an unawakable Jian Xin.

To prevent this, she even seriously considered staying up all night.

Despite her best efforts to stay awake until 3 a.m., Jian Xin eventually dozed off, her hand still gripping the phone that was playing a drama.

Fortunately, when she woke up, she found herself still at home.

The 9 a.m. alarm buzzed in her ears, making her head throb. She desperately wanted to stay in bed, but she knew she had to get up and tidy herself up quickly—she couldn’t possibly go out looking disheveled right after waking up.

Ugh, if only I hadn’t stayed up so late last night! This is just torturing myself!

At 8:51 a.m., Yan Lu called.

Yan Lu was early. Jian Xin, who had just finished getting ready, hurriedly slung her crossbody bag over her shoulder and sped toward the neighborhood gate in her electric wheelchair.

When they met, they exchanged polite greetings, but neither spoke another word during the entire journey.

Jian Xin felt something was off.

Last night, she had lain in bed thinking of countless topics they could discuss. Yet now, she felt like she had amnesia, unable to utter a single word.

The follow-up appointment went smoothly. The cast on her arm was removed, and her right leg was healing reasonably well. They replaced the heavy cast with a lighter, more breathable one. As for when it could be removed entirely, that would have to wait until the next checkup.

“My body’s recovering pretty well, huh? Healing up fast…” Jian Xin remarked casually as they rode the elevator downstairs, glancing up at Yan Lu. “Do you think I look like that Li Xia you wrote about? The one with the limp who still hops around everywhere, all smiles?”

Yan Lu remained silent.

“Alright, alright, I know I can’t compare,” Jian Xin said, waving her hand dismissively, abandoning her attempt at self-deprecation.

“Still, you’ve had it worse than her,” Yan Lu replied coolly. “You were in a car accident. She just fell. You needed a cast; she only needed some red medicine.”

Jian Xin paused for a moment, then a smile crept across her face. “When you put it like that, I’m practically bursting with vitality!”

“Mm,” Yan Lu hummed.

“What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger!”

“Mm.”

Just “mm,” huh?

How boring. I don’t want to talk anymore.

Jian Xin had always been a woman of her word. If she said she wouldn’t speak, she wouldn’t.

As the car sped toward home, a blur of people and objects flashed past the window. Jian Xin gazed out blankly, her thoughts already drifting elsewhere.

This meeting is over, then, she thought.

Having gained nothing, she wondered what the point had been.

Was it even necessary to bother Yan Lu again for the next follow-up appointment?

Perhaps it was. She needed to break the ice somehow to have any chance of resolving the Duck transformation.

As Jian Xin pondered this, the car came to a stop.

She snapped back to reality and glanced around, realizing they were already at the entrance to her residential complex.

“Thank you. You’ve really worked hard today,” Jian Xin said, reaching for the car door.

Yan Lu suddenly spoke up, “Let me take you home.”

Jian Xin blinked and withdrew her hand from the door handle. “Okay.”

She straightened up and began directing Yan Lu.

The complex was quite large, with a villa area on one side and mid-rise apartment buildings on the other.

Jian Xin had chosen to rent here primarily for the security—living alone, she needed a safe place to feel at ease.

Of course, she couldn’t afford a villa, so she ended up renting a sixth-floor apartment in one of the mid-rise buildings.

As she gave directions, she couldn’t help but chatter about these details to Yan Lu.

Yan Lu responded with a series of “hmm-hmm-hmm-hmms,” her tone detached yet tinged with a hint of warmth—as if she were only half-listening, yet somehow genuinely attentive.

Jian Xin was completely bewildered, feeling like she was in a daze as Yan Lu gently pushed her through the doorway of her home.

She glanced at her phone—it was already past midnight.

Yao Wenqian had mentioned that Yan Lu’s home was over an hour’s drive from the South City District. If Yan Lu left now, she wouldn’t get back until around 1:30 AM…

“Um, Yan Lu—”

“Hmm?”

“Why don’t you have something to eat before you go?” Jian Xin turned to look at Yan Lu, who was standing by the door, her voice tinged with concern. “You woke up so early today, you must be starving. If you wait until you get home to make something, it’ll be hard on your stomach.”

Yan Lu paused, then smiled. “Alright.”

“Let’s order takeout then?” Jian Xin waved her phone, a hint of embarrassment in her voice. “I’m still recovering from my injury, so it’s hard for me to move around. The fridge is completely empty.”

“Okay.”

“What do you feel like eating?”

“Anything is fine,” Yan Lu said, gently closing the door behind her.

“Slippers are in the cabinet. Just grab a pair—our sizes should be about the same.”

“Got it.” Yan Lu bent down, opened the shoe cabinet, and slipped on a pair of slippers.

Jian Xin sat in her wheelchair, clutching her phone, agonizing over what to order for takeout.

In life, one can never escape the three great dilemmas:

What to eat for breakfast? What to eat for lunch? What to eat for dinner?

Speaking of which, what did Yan Lu used to like to eat?

Jian Xin racked her brain, only to realize she had no idea what her ex-girlfriend’s favorite foods were.

In her memories, Yan Lu had never been picky, eating whatever was available in small portions, leaving no clue as to her preferences.

Wait, Duck’s name is Cauliflower. Yan Lu must at least like cauliflower, right?

Perfect! Jian Xin also enjoyed cauliflower.

With this thought, she found a nearby stir-fry restaurant and ordered a plate of cauliflower stir-fried with pork. Then, she scrolled through the menu from top to bottom, adding sour and spicy shredded potatoes, dry-fried green beans, tomato and egg stir-fry, and two servings of rice. With coupons applied, she happily placed her order!

Finally done with ordering, Jian Xin let out a sigh of relief. But as she looked up, she saw Yan Lu standing in front of the bookshelf in her bedroom, leaning in to examine something closely.

Jian Xin’s heart tightened, and she hurriedly wheeled her chair after Yan Lu.

Hearing the sound, Yan Lu glanced back at her. “You’ve bought so many of my books?”

“Ah, yes, yes!” Jian Xin unconsciously pursed her lips. “Your novels are wonderful. I’ve always loved them, but I never knew they were yours until now. Ha ha…”

“Really?” Yan Lu said mildly. “These books look quite new.”

“Oh, of course! Physical books are for collecting… I prefer reading on my phone.”

“I see.” Yan Lu turned to face Jian Xin, smiling. “Which one is your favorite?”

Saved by the bell! Why is Teacher Yan giving a pop quiz?

“I like them all. If I had to pick a favorite, hmm—” Jian Xin paused, her mind racing at lightning speed. “It would probably be Fallen Jade Branch and Endless Rain?”

Thank goodness she had just finished watching the drama adaptation of Endless Rain the night before. Otherwise, she would have only been able to name the most famous one—how unconvincing would that have been!

“Endless Rain,” Yan Lu said, a slight smile playing at the corner of her lips as she pressed further. “Which part of the story do you like best?”

“Hmm, hmm… I really loved the scene where Jiang Yan receives a silent phone call in the early morning and rushes out into the pouring rain to find Little Qiu,” Jian Xin said earnestly. “He knows she’s nearby, but he can’t find her. It’s so heartbreaking to watch.”

In the next moment, a cryptic smile flickered in Yan Lu’s eyes.

Jian Xin was utterly bewildered by Yan Lu’s smile. Before she could even process it, Yan Lu turned around, opened the cabinet, and with a gentle flick of her wrist, retrieved the book How Not to Like Someone from the shelf. She casually flipped it open to the first page.

“Still interested in this?” Yan Lu asked.

“Not at all!” Jian Xin retorted.

“Hmm?”

“A friend recommended it, but I just couldn’t get into it!”

Heaven and earth bear witness—every word was the truth!

Though she couldn’t quite explain why she felt compelled to explain herself to Yan Lu…

Oh, right…

It was just a book. Yan Lu herself was reading it.

Why did she even need to explain?