Little Duckling - Chapter 21

The deep gray curtains were half-drawn, casting the bedroom in a dim light.

Jian Xin couldn’t quite make out Yan Lu’s expression, but the atmosphere felt inexplicably awkward.

A moment later, Yan Lu suddenly spoke, “I’ve read this book.”

Her tone suggested she was merely making a casual observation, with no hidden meaning.

“Really?” Jian Xin asked, her gaze fixed on Yan Lu’s hand holding the book. “What did you think of it?”

“It’s alright,” Yan Lu said, leaning slightly against the cabinet door. “Basically, it teaches you how to recognize ‘toxic personality types,’ helps you assess whether you’re trapped in a deep, resentful cycle, and offers guidance on ending harmful relationships. If you’re interested, you might find it worth reading. The summaries inside are quite insightful.”

Jian Xin blinked, quickly reviewing her past in her mind.

Toxic personality type? That definitely can’t be me!

“So, did you read this book to help a friend get rid of someone?” Jian Xin asked.

“No,” Yan Lu replied.

If not a friend, then… herself?

Jian Xin unconsciously bit the inside of her lower lip, tentatively asking, “So… have you dated anyone else these past few years?”

“This is just research material for my writing,” Yan Lu replied, chuckling softly. “The examples in the book are quite typical. You don’t think I’m so fragile that I’d need a book to escape someone, do you?”

Jian Xin opened her mouth to respond but couldn’t find the words.

Yan Lu continued, “Actually, for someone truly trapped, no book can help.”

“Huh?” Jian Xin tilted her head in confusion.

Yan Lu, seeing Jian Xin’s bewildered expression, calmly elaborated, “It’s like those friends with ‘love-obsessed’ minds. No matter how many times they argue with their partners, how often they come to you complaining, or how much you analyze the situation and urge them to value themselves, they might seem momentarily swayed, but they always end up forgiving their partners.”

She added, “There’s no helping them. After enduring so much, they can’t bear the thought that all their sacrifices might lead to nothing good.”

“Then…”

“That could never be me,” Yan Lu said, shaking her head and smiling softly. “The past is long gone—there’s no need for either of us to dwell on it.”

“You’re right,” Jian Xin said with a slightly forced smile.

I’m just being sentimental again, she thought.

Yan Lu is doing so well now. How could she still be stuck in the past?

Who says that ex-lovers who keep songs they listened to together on their hard drives or secretly ask friends to introduce each other to new opportunities must still be hung up on each other? Couldn’t it just mean they’ve moved on completely and no longer care?

“Ah, it’s all good!” Jian Xin straightened her expression, smiling with a seemingly carefree air. “Actually, I’m the same way. I stopped dwelling on most of those things a long time ago.”

“Mm.”

“To be honest, I always thought we’d never see each other again in this lifetime. But sometimes, memories would suddenly surface, and I couldn’t help but wonder how we’d face each other if we ever did meet again.” Jian Xin shrugged and spread her hands. “I imagined so many possibilities, but in the end, I realized I was overthinking it. After all, how much lingering feeling could there really be after so much time has passed? If we actually met, it would just be a normal encounter, normal conversation—not even a hint of tears.”

“Yes,” Yan Lu replied softly.

Jian Xin pressed her lips together, feeling inexplicably uneasy. It was as if things shouldn’t be this way between them.

Yan Lu turned back, closed the book she had been reading, and gently placed it back on the shelf. She then randomly picked up a novel that wasn’t hers from the cabinet and, using the dim light in the room, began to read.

“Let me turn on the light for you,” Jian Xin said, reaching for the switch by the door.

The dimly lit bedroom instantly brightened.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome—” Jian Xin replied, then couldn’t resist adding, “The book you’re holding… I bought it blindly. It’s not very good.”

“A good friend of mine wrote it,” Yan Lu said calmly.

“Oh! I’m so sorry!” Jian Xin quickly tried to recover. “I just meant… um, I meant it’s not really my taste, but it’s not bad.”

“Exactly, exactly! It’s just… not that good…”

“If it’s getting published, it must have a decent audience. It’s probably a good piece of work…”

Jian Xin paused, taking a deep breath. Her expression turned awkward as she asked, “Can I take back what I just said?”

Yan Lu suddenly chuckled, glancing back at her. “Just teasing you.”

Jian Xin: “……?”

After a brief silence, Jian Xin snapped out of her daze and let out a relieved sigh.

She shook her head, both amused and exasperated. “Yan Lu, you’ve really changed. You weren’t like this before!”

“Who doesn’t change?” Yan Lu replied, returning to her book.

A faint smile lingered in her eyes, its origin unclear yet strangely compelling, drawing one’s gaze in an unconscious attempt to decipher its meaning.

Jian Xin didn’t realize she had been staring at Yan Lu—at the person who had become so different from the image in her memories, yet still managed to irrationally dominate her entire field of vision.

It wasn’t until her phone rang, signaling the arrival of her takeout order, that she snapped out of her reverie and hurried to the door to collect it.

The two ate in silence.

They had ordered too much food and couldn’t finish it all. Yan Lu used a bowl from home to pack up the leftovers for Jian Xin, covered it, and put it in the refrigerator. Turning back to Jian Xin, she reminded her, “If you can’t finish it this afternoon, just throw it away. It’s all vegetarian, so try not to keep it overnight.”

“Okay!” Jian Xin replied.

“Well, if there’s nothing else, I’ll be going now,” Yan Lu said, walking to the door, picking up her small bag, and reaching for the doorknob.

Jian Xin instinctively opened her mouth, wanting to say something, but not a single word came out before the door closed behind Yan Lu.

She stared blankly at the tightly shut door, an indescribable impulse rising within her.

In that moment, she gripped her phone tightly, each second stretched out by her racing heartbeat.

Yan Lu had just stepped out of the elevator and found her car in the underground parking garage. Before she could even open the door, her phone began to ring incessantly.

She glanced down and saw it was a voice call from Jian Xin.

After a brief hesitation, she answered.

There was no sound from the other end. Yan Lu couldn’t help but ask, “Is there something else?”

“Yan Lu,” the voice on the other end seemed to take a deep breath before asking cautiously, “If everything is truly in the past, can we still be friends?”

Yan Lu paused.

“I mean… the kind who stay in touch often…”

Yan Lu’s fingers, resting on the car door, froze momentarily, and her vision blurred for an instant.

After a brief silence, she regulated her breathing and replied casually, “Sure.”

The person on the other end seemed to smile. “Then, if I call you just to chat, will you get annoyed?”

Yan Lu: “No.”

The conversation hung in the air.

After another short silence, Yan Lu thought she heard a soft, almost imperceptible sniffle from the other end of the line.

“Then hurry home and get some rest!” Jian Xin’s voice came through again, her tone light. “Be careful on the way!”

“Okay,” Yan Lu replied, lingering by the car door for a moment longer.

The call remained connected, but neither spoke.

After a moment’s hesitation, Yan Lu pressed the end call button.

After hanging up, Jian Xin lay in bed, staring blankly for a long time.

After a restless night and a tiring morning at the hospital, Jian Xin’s body was exhausted, but her mind remained frighteningly clear.

The more she pondered her conversation with Yan Lu earlier that day, the more she felt something was off.

After much deliberation, Jian Xin couldn’t resist pulling the still-unopened copy of Endless Rain from her bookshelf. Leaning back against her bed, she began flipping through the pages.

She didn’t know why, but the words that had previously refused to sink in now flowed effortlessly into her mind.

The story wasn’t long, totaling only 190,000 characters on the online platform.

Clutching the physical book, Jian Xin became increasingly engrossed under the lamplight.

By the time she finished the story, the night outside had deepened. The back of her hand, her arm, the pillowcase, and the thin blanket were all soaked beyond saturation.

Damn it!

How could someone be both devastated by a novel’s emotional intensity and so mortified by their own mistake that they wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear?

The plot point she had discussed with Yan Lu earlier that day… it turned out to be an original scene created solely for the drama adaptation! The characters’ core personalities had been completely warped from the original text!

No wonder Yan Lu had laughed so cryptically. She had seen through Jian Xin’s ignorance and deliberately let her make a fool of herself!

Who will save her?!

Earth had become unbearable. She wanted to go to Mars!

“…Never mind, I’m a bit hungry.”

She decided to fill her stomach first, then think about escaping Earth.

Jian Xin kicked aside the wheelchair beside her bed, slipped into her slippers, and hopped to the kitchen on one leg. She microwaved the leftovers from lunch.

As she ate, she scrolled through online forums, reading original Endless Rain fans’ complaints about the drama adaptation.

Suddenly, her vision blurred, her head slumped forward, and a chopstick clattered to the floor.

The sudden noise startled her awake. Her eyes snapped open, and she sat up straight.

No, no, I’m falling asleep even sitting up. It’s rude not to go to bed now.

With that thought, Jian Xin hopped into the bathroom for a quick wash, then bounced back to bed and peacefully closed her eyes.

In her drowsy state, she drifted into a dream.

In the dream, she was still in college, rushing to band practice whenever she had free time. She loved the feeling of singing on stage.

The band had landed a few local gigs, and a couple of their live performances had garnered hundreds of thousands of views online, making them somewhat well-known.

Pooling their resources, the band members rented a fantastic venue and began preparing for a joint concert.

When no one seemed willing to buy tickets, they braved the scorching sun, sweating profusely as they promoted the show and handed out free tickets on the streets.

Those were the best years of their lives.

The hearts of these young people were brimming with dreams, and they never bothered to calculate gains or losses.

On the day of the concert, she and her bandmates stood together on that dreamlike stage.

As the spotlight fell, the audience roared to life, filled with unfamiliar faces.

They cheered, they applauded.

But her eyes saw only one person.

Wenwen Jingjing sat quietly in the audience, her gaze fixed on her, her eyes filled with a gentle smile.

The bell rang, and the Home Room Teacher walked into the classroom with his textbook. The once-noisy room instantly fell silent.

His gaze swept across the class, finally settling on Yan Lu, who sat with her head bowed.

“Yan Lu.”

“…”

“Where are your parents?”

“…”

“Jian Xin and Wang Xiaofeng’s parents are already here. When will yours arrive?”

“…”

Many eyes turned toward them.

Jian Xin pursed her lips and gently nudged Yan Lu’s elbow.

Teacher Li: “Answer me, Yan Lu.”

Yan Lu: “They can’t come.”

Teacher Li: “Why can’t they come?”

Yan Lu: “It’s too far. They can’t make it.”

Teacher Li: “Is it that they can’t come, or that you didn’t tell them?”

Yan Lu: “Even if I told them, they still couldn’t come.”

Jian Xin’s eyes widened, her face filled with shock.

She never imagined that the usually quiet and timid Yan Lu would dare to speak to the Home Room Teacher like this.

Teacher Li frowned, took a deep breath, and said, “What did I say the night before last? Grab your book and stand at the back.”

Yan Lu didn’t argue. With teary eyes, she grabbed her history textbook and a pen, turned around, and walked to the back of the classroom under the gaze of countless eyes. She stood against the wall.

“Class, turn to page… We’ll continue where we left off last time…”

Teacher Li opened his textbook, picked up a piece of chalk, and began to speak. But before he could finish his sentence, Jian Xin suddenly stood up, grabbed her textbook, and walked to the back row of the classroom.

The entire class turned to stare.

Teacher Li paused, then quickly called out, “Jian Xin, what are you doing? We’re in class! Get back to your seat!”

Jian Xin stopped beside the astonished Yan Lu, turned to face the Home Room Teacher with unwavering seriousness, and declared loudly and clearly, “Teacher Li! I had insomnia last night and didn’t sleep well. I’m extremely tired right now! If I don’t stand up, I’ll definitely fall asleep and miss the lesson!”

Teacher Li: “You…”

Jian Xin: “But if I stand at my seat, I’ll definitely block the view for the students behind me. That’s why I came to stand at the back!”

Teacher Li opened his mouth, but for a long moment, he couldn’t find a valid counterargument.

After a few seconds of silence, he sighed in resignation. “Fine. If you want to stand, you can stand with Yan Lu. From now on, both of you will stand at the back of the classroom for the rest of the semester.”

“Thank you, Teacher Li!” Jian Xin shouted, sounding as delighted as if she’d won an award.

A few stifled giggles rippled through the class, only to be abruptly silenced by the Home Room Teacher’s sharp bang on the desk.

Yan Lu frowned, glanced at Jian Xin, and whispered, “What are you doing…?”

“Keeping you company,” Jian Xin replied, pursing her lips. “Don’t take it for granted. I’m the kind of person who’d rather lie down than sit, and sit rather than stand!”

“…!”

At the podium, Teacher Li continued his impassioned lecture, but Jian Xin couldn’t focus on a single word.

Yan Lu stared blankly at the textbook in her hands for a long time. Suddenly, she couldn’t resist nudging Jian Xin’s arm with her elbow and whispering, “Have you called home?”

Yan Lu shook her head.

“Don’t have a phone?” Jian Xin murmured. “You can borrow mine. There are landlines at the school gate and in the teachers’ office too.”

Yan Lu shook her head again.

“So you just don’t want your family to know…” Jian Xin concluded.

This time, Yan Lu didn’t shake her head.

Jian Xin smiled gently, offering reassurance. “It’s okay. There are only four days left in the semester, and Lao Li only has three classes. We’ll stand together. You won’t be alone, okay?”

Teacher Li: “Jian Xin!”

Jian Xin: “Yes!”

Teacher Li: “Move to the right side of the classroom!”

Jian Xin: “Oh—”

Yan Lu lowered her lashes, watching Jian Xin move to the right side of the classroom, four seats away.

Before leaving, Jian Xin repeated, “You won’t be alone, okay!”

Yan Lu bit her lower lip gently, unable to stop replaying that optimistic reassurance in her mind. The weight in her heart seemed to lift completely.

The bell rang, signaling the end of class, and the Home Room Teacher left the classroom.

Yan Lu walked back to her seat with her head down. As soon as she sat down, Jian Xin slipped a milk candy into her hand.

“Are you okay?” Jian Xin asked, tilting her head and looking at Yan Lu with genuine concern.

“What could be wrong?” Yan Lu replied.

“Good to hear!” Jian Xin said, popping a milk candy into her own mouth.

Yan Lu lowered her head and sucked on the candy, unable to resist asking, “Was that your mom who came at noon?”

Jian Xin nodded. “Yeah.”

“Teacher Li called your parents in. Did your mom say anything to you?”

“I didn’t do anything wrong, so why would she?” Jian Xin retorted, then burst out laughing. “She did give Wang Xiaofeng’s mom a piece of her mind right in front of Lao Li. Look at Wang Xiaofeng’s face today—it’s uglier than if he’d eaten sh1t. You can tell his mom really tore into him.”

“Honestly, Lao Li is pretty reasonable,” Jian Xin said, resting her chin in her hands and gazing earnestly at Yan Lu. “Writing novels hasn’t affected your studies at all. You’re always in the top hundred of the grade on monthly exams. Even if your parents came, he probably wouldn’t say anything harsh. At most, he’d just talk about your situation, mention you’ve been bullied by other students, and ask your family to pay more attention to your mental well-being, right?”

Yan Lu slumped onto the table, muttering, “My dad wouldn’t care about me.”

“What about your mom?” Jian Xin asked casually.

“She’s gone.”

“…I’m sorry,” Jian Xin said, falling silent.

Yan Lu buried her face completely, refusing to speak further.

That afternoon, Jian Xin had a voice lesson at five, so they didn’t eat together.

Just before evening self-study began, Yan Lu was hunched over her desk, immersed in writing her novel.

Suddenly, a small, pale green notebook landed on her desk.

The notebook was covered in a clear protective film, and each page inside had been neatly reinforced with transparent tape.

Yan Lu looked up to see Jian Xin sitting beside her, her eyes curving into crescent moons with a triumphant smile.

“I got your novel back for you. Does that make you feel any better?”

For a moment, Yan Lu tilted her head, quietly studying Jian Xin’s smiling eyes.

She couldn’t help but ask, “How can someone like you even exist in this world?”

Jian Xin let out a surprised “Huh?” and asked, “What do you mean? Is that a compliment or an insult?”

As soon as she spoke, she noticed the slight upward curve of Yan Lu’s lips and immediately understood the answer.

This girl really doesn’t know how to talk, Jian Xin thought. Even her compliments sound so awkward.

No wonder she has such poor social skills!

Jian Xin looked up, staring blankly at the clock hanging directly above the podium.

When she first returned to the classroom, she had overheard Qi Xia and Zhang Danya at the door saying they definitely wouldn’t share a dorm room with Yan Lu next semester.

The girls in that dorm already loved gossiping about Yan Lu, and Wang Xiaofeng’s recent antics had undoubtedly made her situation even worse.

Jian Xin pondered this alone for a long time, until nearly the end of the first evening self-study period. Finally, she lowered her head, scribbled a note, and quietly pushed it toward Yan Lu.

Yan Lu glanced at her, puzzled, before opening the note.

I’m going to start living on campus next semester.

Yan Lu froze, her eyes widening with surprise as she looked at Jian Xin.

Why?

Yan Lu wrote her reply and pushed the note back.

The note was quickly returned.

My house is far from school. It takes over twenty minutes to drive. If I commute, I have to wake up half an hour earlier every day. Staying at school means I can sleep in.

Yan Lu hesitated before pushing the note back again.

Just because of that?

Jian Xin read Yan Lu’s reply and immediately turned to face her, her eyes wide. In a hushed voice, she whispered, “And to be with you!”

Yan Lu remained silent.

“Aren’t you happy?”

Yan Lu lowered her lashes, remaining silent for a long moment.

Jian Xin waited patiently beside her, finally receiving a note.

Are you really going to stay at school?

Of course! I told Lao Li we’ll share a dorm room!

Thank you.

You’re welcome! ^▽^

Yan Lu stared at the crooked smiley face and couldn’t resist writing one more line on the note.

This is the happiest news I’ve heard all year.

Finally, after a moment’s hesitation, she folded the note and silently tucked it into her Chinese textbook.

Jian Xin received no response, but she was already accustomed to conversations ending abruptly.

That evening, she hurried home, breathless as she climbed into her mother’s car. Before she could catch her breath, she blurted out, “Mom! I… I want to live at school!”

“Hmm?” Huang He glanced at her in the rearview mirror, as if she’d heard something unbelievable. “You? Want to live at school?!”

“Yeah!” Jian Xin nodded emphatically. “I want to live at school!”

Huang He ignored her, rolling down the car window and gazing up at the night sky, as if searching for something.

“Mom, what are you doing?” Jian Xin asked.

“Looking for the sun,” Huang He replied.

Jian Xin glanced out the window, opened her mouth to speak, and her left eye twitched involuntarily. “Where’s the sun?”

“I’d say the chances of finding the sun at night are higher than you suddenly wanting to live at school,” Huang He said, pulling her head back inside and gazing at Jian Xin in the rearview mirror. “My little darling, when you first started middle school, you barely lasted a month before begging me to switch you to day school.”

“Well…” Jian Xin blinked. “I’m more mature now. It must be tiring for you to drive me back and forth every day. If I live at school, it’ll be easier for you, and I can sleep in a little longer every morning.”

Huang He: “Is this about that classmate named Yan Lu?”

Jian Xin: “…Is it that obvious?”

Huang He nodded. “Yes, it is.”

Jian Xin took a deep breath, shook her head, and sighed. “Mom, don’t be upset. I didn’t just act on impulse…”

“Upset? I’m thrilled!” Huang He rolled up the car window, started the engine, and chuckled dismissively. “Honestly, I’m running around all day, and now I have to pick you up late at night? I’d be overjoyed if you stayed at school!”

“……”

“I met your little desk mate today. She’s petite, quiet, and academically strong—a good classmate. Tell Teacher Li you want to share a dorm with her next semester. You should really study with her more.”

“……”

“Don’t think the art entrance exam means you can neglect your academics entirely. If you ever make a name for yourself, people will dig up your past and expose you as illiterate!”

“Mom—!”

Jian Xin clutched her backpack tightly, glaring at the shrinking school gates behind them. She muttered under her breath, “Am I even your real daughter anymore?”

Just yesterday, you didn’t care about favors or grudges!

Now suddenly it’s all about “studying with her more”?