Little Duckling - Chapter 27

By late October, the weather in Jin City had gradually turned cooler.

After countless revisions and refinements, Jian Xin finally completed the character theme song requested by the Cloud Between Moons production team.

She recorded a demo on her computer and sent it over. The Music Director quickly praised it highly, and now she just needed to find time to formally record it in the studio to receive payment.

This was undoubtedly a major opportunity, and Jian Xin cherished it deeply. She practiced the song relentlessly at home, rehearsing each line’s emotional nuances over and over. She recorded six or seven versions and shared them in the band’s group chat.

Zheng Xinyue even pleaded with her, “Sister, you’ve practiced it perfectly! You can record it in the studio now, really!”

Hearing this, Jian Xin immediately hopped into her electric wheelchair, hailed a taxi, and rushed to the studio’s private recording booth. Obsessed with perfection, she dragged Chen Yuan, who was helping with the recording, to spend the entire afternoon with her.

Finally, she treated everyone to a celebratory dinner.

It had been a while since Jian Xin had dined out with her friends. She initially wanted to order wine, but before her finger could press the button, Zheng Xinyue slapped her hand so hard that Jian Xin yelped in pain.

“What wine? Is your injury healed? Who’s going to drink with you?” Zheng Xinyue demanded, hands on her hips, firing off a barrage of questions.

“Can’t I even look at the menu?” Jian Xin retorted stubbornly, pursing her lips before reluctantly ordering a fruit tea.

During the meal, she brought up her desire to visit a temple again.

She explained that during her checkup two days prior, the doctor had said that the next visit would be when they could remove the cast from her leg. Walking would be much easier then, and she wanted to go to the temple to offer thanks.

Jiang Lan blinked, curious. “You’ve never been superstitious before. Why the sudden urge to visit a temple?”

Zheng Xinyue: “Have you forgotten? Ever since her car accident, she’s been wanting to go.”

Jiang Lan: “Really?”

Zheng Xinyue: “Yes! Just search the group chat.”

Jiang Lan was about to search when Chen Yuan, sitting nearby, had already copied and pasted the relevant chat history into the group.

“Oh, that was back in September,” Jiang Lan said, her memory failing her. “I’ve been so forgetful lately…”

“I told you not to stay up so late, but you never listen, do you?” Zheng Xinyue teased. “Now your brain’s all foggy, and you’ve become even more spacey than usual.”

Jiang Lan looked up and corrected her earnestly, “It’s not about staying up late. I get plenty of sleep every night. My memory problems are due to brain fog—the brain fog I’ve had ever since I got COVID during the pandemic!”

“Alright, alright, brain fog, brain fog,” Zheng Xinyue chuckled in agreement. “Staying up late is innocent! Long live staying up late!”

“So?” Jian Xin interjected, seizing the opportunity. “Who’s going to come with me to the temple after my cast comes off?”

“I’ll go with you!” Zheng Xinyue volunteered casually. “What, are you planning to pray for love?”

Jian Xin choked on her rice, covering her mouth as she coughed a few times.

“Oh~~” Jiang Lan’s eyes suddenly widened, her face lighting up with realization.

“What’s with the ‘oh’?” Jian Xin snapped, turning her head to wipe away the tears from choking. Her voice hoarse, she insisted, “Why would I pray for love? Do I even need that kind of thing?”

Chen Yuan: “It feels like you do.”

Jiang Lan and Zheng Xinyue nodded in agreement.

Jian Xin frowned and slapped the table. “Let me reiterate: I’m not being stubborn!”

“Yan Lu and I broke up ages ago! Everyone knows rabbits don’t eat the grass near their burrows, and good horses don’t graze on old pastures!” She sat up straight, her voice ringing with righteous indignation. “I wasn’t a good rabbit back then, but I can at least be a good horse now, right?”

Zheng Xinyue: “What’s with all this ‘good horse, bad horse, cow, horse’ nonsense? As people, we shouldn’t define ourselves with arbitrary labels.”

“Yan Lu and I were never compatible anyway. Otherwise, why would we have broken up in the first place?”

Zheng Xinyue: “She’s getting worked up again.”

Jiang Lan: “So worked up! So worked up!”

Chen Yuan: “She’s so worked up her voice is cracking.”

Jian Xin: “……”

After a brief silence, Jian Xin shook her head and continued, “Anyway, I want to go to the temple, but it has nothing to do with Yan… romance. It’s just that everything’s been going wrong lately. I feel like I’m being haunted by something strange, and I want to ward off the evil spirits!”

Zheng Xinyue: “Everything’s been going wrong lately?”

Chen Yuan: “Cloud Between Moon’s situation is just too inconvenient.”

Jiang Lan: “Getting to binge-watch novels and dramas every day, plus having a top-tier drama partner feeding you content? That’s way too inconvenient!”

Zheng Xinyue: “Every time I go to the hospital, my ex picks me up and even takes me out for romantic dinners. That’s just too, too inconvenient!”

Jiang Lan: “I wish I could have such inconveniences too.”

Zheng Xinyue: “Who wouldn’t?”

Chen Yuan: “We’re just not that lucky.”

Jian Xin opened her mouth, choked for a moment, and finally managed to say, “Being hit by a car and stuck in a wheelchair every day? You want that kind of luck?”

“No need to go to work, no chores to do, no missing limbs, finally meeting the person you’ve been longing for, and landing a massive project? If you could latch onto someone’s coattails from this, your future would be limitless! This is practically a windfall!” Zheng Xinyue analyzed, then asked rhetorically, “Why wouldn’t I want it? If I were you, I’d have kissed them already!”

Jiang Lan nodded enthusiastically. “Exactly!”

Jian Xin: “But… but what about the nightmares I have every night since the accident? I can’t even sleep properly! Would you still want that?”

“What kind of nightmare?” Chen Yuan asked.

Jian Xin frowned, her expression serious. “I dreamed I turned into Yan Lu’s pet duck…”

Zheng Xinyue’s eyes widened, and she instinctively leaned back. Jiang Lan and Chen Yuan exchanged hesitant glances, unsure how to respond.

“No, no, no! Not that kind of ‘duck’!” Jian Xin clarified, waving her hands frantically. “I mean I turned into her Call Duck, her pet duck! You know, the kind people keep as pets?” She began gesturing wildly as she described the dream to her friends. “Yan Lu has a Call Duck and a Corgi—this big!”

“I keep dreaming I’m that duck, and the Corgi bullies me all the time. I’m so small, pitiful, and helpless, and the duck feed tastes awful…”

“Pfft—” Zheng Xinyue covered her mouth, waving her hand to stifle her laughter. “Okay, okay, keep going.”

Jian Xin pouted and continued, “I started having these dreams after the car accident. In them, I’m always a duck, constantly harassed by that mean dog. But Yan Lu takes good care of me. She calls herself ‘Mommy’ and calls me ‘Cauliflower.’ She even changes clothes in front of me at home…”

Zheng Xinyue couldn’t help but exclaim, “Wow! This isn’t a nightmare—it’s a wet dream!”

Jiang Lan clicked her tongue. “Tsk, tsk, tsk—”

Chen Yuan asked, “Does your ex know about these kinds of dreams?”

Jian Xin suddenly choked, her gaze freezing for a long moment before she realized why this scene felt so strangely familiar.

It’s just like that famous scene from Stephen Chow’s The Mermaid, where the protagonist frantically tries to report the truth, only to be met with ridicule for his absurd claims.

The only difference was that she had the foresight to frame it as a dream, temporarily sparing her from being labeled insane.

Jian Xin sighed softly and shook her head. “Never mind. Yuezi, just come with me to the temple later. Nothing else matters.”

Zheng Xinyue: “No problem! Let’s eat!”

Jian Xin: “Let’s eat!”

Whatever problems they had, they’d tackle them on a full stomach first!

After the meal, Jian Xin spent another half-month lounging around at home, utterly idle.

She discovered that as long as she wasn’t stressed about money, kept the curtains open, and remembered to air out the room daily, her recovery days could be surprisingly relaxed and enjoyable.

She spent her days reading novels, catching up on dramas, and watching variety shows she hadn’t finished at Yan Lu’s place. She ate when she was hungry, slept when she was tired, and jotted down ideas on her laptop whenever inspiration struck. When she felt lonely, she could always find someone to chat with who would reply instantly.

This is what life should be!

If it weren’t for the occasional nuisance of turning into a duck every few days, she couldn’t even imagine how blissful her life as a young woman would be!

Perhaps due to the frequency of these transformations, Jian Xin had gradually grown numb to the experience of waking up as a duck.

Whether she was a duck or a human, wasn’t it all just about eating when hungry and sleeping when tired?

After all, she could still listen to music and watch variety shows at Yan Lu’s place—and from a certain perspective, her legs were even more agile when she was a duck!

The days passed quickly, and before she knew it, it was mid-November.

After four follow-up appointments, Jian Xin finally had the cast removed from her right leg.

The joint was inevitably stiff after being immobilized, requiring rehabilitation exercises to gradually regain its ability to bear weight.

Yan Lu diligently followed the doctor’s instructions, setting three alarms on her phone to remind Jian Xin to do at least three ten-minute sessions of stretching and bending exercises each day.

Not only that, to prevent Jian Xin from eating poorly or too little during her recovery, Yan Lu hired a private chef to prepare nutritious meals at home, replacing Jian Xin’s usual takeout.

Meat, eggs, dairy, soy products, peeled and sliced fruits, and even calcium supplements—something Jian Xin hadn’t taken since elementary school—suddenly flooded her world.

Being treated with such care by her ex-girlfriend left Jian Xin feeling both flattered and overwhelmed.

But despite the pampering, the pain remained relentless.

While her arm was in a cast, she hadn’t felt much pain. Now that the cast was off and the joint was no longer immobilized, she had to try moving it daily. Each movement brought a sharp, searing pain. Even though the weather had cooled, the agony still drenched her in cold sweat.

One particularly painful day, Jian Xin lay in bed, consumed by regret.

Why did I have to drink so much on my birthday?

And even after getting hit, I was grinning like an idiot, thinking I was some kind of legendary crash-resistant queen. I got thrown into the air and still managed to get discharged in just two weeks…

Well, now the cast is off, and I’m not laughing anymore.

She had joked about visiting a temple to pray after getting the cast removed, but now, in her current state, she had no heart for such things.

If only I hadn’t drunk that night…

But if she hadn’t drunk that night, would she have ever met Yan Lu?

Jin City was so vast, and they lived so far apart. What were the odds of them crossing paths again in that sea of people?

Jian Xin couldn’t answer that question, so she stopped resenting her past self for insisting on that fateful drink.

Time flew by. It felt like only a blink of an eye before the New Year’s Eve bells began to toll.

Clutching her phone, Jian Xin opened Yan Lu’s private chat and began typing a New Year’s greeting:

Happy New Year, Yan Lu! Thank you so much for taking care of me these past few months. My body has almost fully recovered, and the freelance work you recommended has been a huge help. I don’t know how to repay you. In the new year, please don’t hesitate to ask if you need anything—I’ll be ready to help anytime!

Jian Xin: “……”

This is terrible. Absolutely terrible.

Happy New Year, Teacher Yan Lu! Thanks to your care these past few months, my recovery went so smoothly! Our reunion was fate. Let’s continue being good friends in the new year!

Ugh, this is even worse.

Happy New Year, Yan Lu! May the new year bring you soaring success, smooth sailing in all endeavors, a constant stream of inspiration, and blockbuster sales for every new book! If you wouldn’t mind, I’d love to write some songs for your novels!

Jian Xin stared at the message in the text box, hesitating before finally deleting it.

How should I phrase this properly…?

Just as she was agonizing over it, her phone buzzed. Yan Lu had sent her a message first.

Yan Lu Er Qi: Happy New Year.

Jian Xin tilted her head in confusion.

So brief, not even a name. Is this a mass text?

After a few seconds of contemplation, she shook her head and patted her forehead.

Ugh, why am I even worrying about this?

Even if it is a mass text, I’m still on a famous author’s distribution list!

That’s an honor, right?!

Picked Up a Heart: You too!

Picked Up a Heart: Happy Year of the Dragon! May everything go smoothly!

Picked Up a Heart: Happy Dog

After sending the reply, Jian Xin pursed her lips, exited the private chat, copied the previous message, and sent it to everyone she’d been in touch with over the past few years, from Q/Q to WeChat.

Finally, she clicked into the “Family” WeChat group and silently snatched the two large red envelopes her parents had sent.

Huang He: See? I told you, she wouldn’t show up for just a “Happy New Year.” You have to send red envelopes.

Jian Changjiang: You’re right.

This Person is Dead: What are you talking about?! I was just busy replying to messages!

This Person is Dead: Happy New Year, Mom and Dad!

This Person is Dead: Sends a big kiss

Huang He: When are you coming home this year?

Huang He: You didn’t come back for National Day. Please come home early for the New Year.

Huang He: Don’t work too hard. It doesn’t matter if you get a promotion or a raise. Your health is what’s most important. You can’t earn money if you don’t have your life to spend it!

Jian Xin sighed heavily as she read the messages in the group chat.

With the Lunar New Year just a month away, she hadn’t even mentioned her resignation to her family, let alone the car accident…

Her leg was still limping, and she knew she couldn’t hide it when she went home.

But how could she tell them without getting scolded?

Huang He: Where are you?

Huang He: Did you grab the red envelopes and run?

This Person is Dead: No, no, I’m still here, Mom!

Huang He: I’m asking you, when are you coming home this year?

This Person is Dead: Mom, there’s something I need to tell you.

Huang He: Go ahead.

This Person is Dead: Promise you won’t get angry first, okay?

Huang He: I’ll decide whether to be angry after you tell me.

This Person is Dead: That won’t work. You have to promise first.

Huang He: Fine, fine, I promise.

This Person is Dead: Don’t panic yet! Read the rest slowly!

Huang He: Okay, okay, okay.

Jian Xin took a deep breath and typed a long message into the chat box:

This Person is Dead: So, on my birthday, a minor incident led to me quitting my part-time job. I had a bit too much to drink, got into a small car accident, and ended up staying in the hospital for over half a month. I couldn’t make it back for National Day because my arm was still in a cast, which made traveling difficult. But don’t worry! I’m recovering well and am almost fully healed now. Since I’m not working, I can come home earlier this year!

After the message was sent, the group fell silent for a few seconds.

Just as Jian Xin was about to send another message, a massive shocked emoji suddenly flashed across her screen.

Instead of the scolding she had anticipated, she received only a flurry of parental concern and endless questions.

The conversation stretched past 2 AM.

Finally, Huang He said, “Working on music with your friends sounds good. It doesn’t matter how much you earn; even if you make nothing, we can still support you. Now that you’re not working, have you considered coming back to Nanjiang? Don’t stay out there all alone.”

Jian Xin stared at the message for a long time, lost in thought. Finally, she replied with a voice message, “Sigh, the studio’s here, and it’s not convenient to move… Besides, I’ve been living here for so many years; I’m used to it now.”

As she spoke, she sighed and stared blankly at her phone.

With the Lunar New Year approaching, Jian Xin wondered if Yan Lu would be returning to Nanjiang.

Should I ask her? If she’s going back too, maybe we could buy tickets together and travel together…

No, no, what am I thinking?!

What would Yan Lu even go back to Nanjiang for now? She has no reason to return!

Jian Xin sighed, put down her phone, and closed her eyes, feeling drowsy.

In her half-asleep state, she thought she heard someone whispering softly in her ear.

The gentle voice grew clearer, gradually dispelling her drowsiness.

By the time she was fully awake, she had transitioned from her dimly lit bedroom to a brightly lit study.

Yan Lu was kneeling beside her, patiently helping Xin Xin put on a newly purchased outfit.

Duck couldn’t resist stretching its neck to watch the scene unfold.

The little outfit was bright red, embroidered with cloud patterns, and trimmed with white fur, giving it a festive look.

When Xin Xin wore it, she looked like an adorable New Year’s doll.

Haha, it’s only New Year’s Day, and she’s already dressed like it’s the Spring Festival!

Jian Xin was enjoying the sight when Yan Lu turned around, picked up a red silk ribbon from her lap, and called out to her.

“Cauliflower, come here. Mommy will tie a bright red bow on you, and we can celebrate the holiday together!”

Huh? A bow? No way… Won’t it be too tight?

Jian Xin instinctively took two steps back, but Yan Lu quickly steadied her by the nape of her neck and tied the red ribbon anyway.

Thankfully, the bow wasn’t too tight around her neck. It was just the sudden addition of something unfamiliar that made her feel a little uncomfortable.

Honestly, does this even look good?

Jian Xin craned her neck downward, trying to see how the bow looked, but her neck was already bent as far as it could go. Her little eyes just couldn’t reach the spot she wanted to see.

“Cauliflower, Xin Xin, it’s New Year’s Day! A new year has begun!” Yan Lu said softly from the side. “How about Mommy takes a picture of you two together?”

Hearing this, Jian Xin immediately stopped trying to look at the bow and twisted her neck in protest.

No way! Who wants to take a picture with a dog that stole my name?!

“Let Cauliflower take the photos. I’m not joining in.”

But a duck’s protests are always meaningless.

Yan Lu: “Cauliflower, move closer to Xin Xin.”

Move closer to Xin Xin? Who wants to move closer to Xin Xin? I’m out of here!

Jian Xin let out a defiant “昂,” spread her wings, and turned to waddle back toward the duck nest.

Seeing Cauliflower’s disobedience, Yan Lu shifted her gaze to Xin Xin. “Xin Xin, go get Cauliflower!”

Huh?!

Before Jian Xin could react, a large Gouzi pounced on her, pinning her to the ground. Wagging its tail, it looked up at its owner and barked proudly, “Woof woof!”

“I told you to get Cauliflower, not bully her!” Yan Lu chuckled, crouching beside them with her phone, snapping photos of the two festive little creatures.

Jian Xin struggled free from Xin Xin’s clutches, flapping her wings as she charged toward Yan Lu. Quacking furiously, she reenacted King Qin’s Column-Circling Maneuver around Gouzi behind her.

As she circled, her feet suddenly left the ground as Yan Lu scooped her up.

Jian Xin twisted her neck to look at Xin Xin on the ground, launching into a triumphant, duck-like taunt.

“Gah-gah-ah-ha-ha-ha!”

Chase me! Keep chasing me! You’ll never catch me!

“Gah! Gah! Gah-gah-gah!”

Poor little doggy, with your short legs! You can’t even catch a duck!

Xin Xin immediately followed Yan Lu, whining and wagging her tail with unrestrained joy.

“Alright, Xin Xin,” Yan Lu said. “Cauliflower’s scared of you now. Why don’t you go play by yourself for a bit?”

Xin Xin whined twice, then trotted over to the duck nest, her tail wagging furiously, and began patting it with her paws.

Getting desperate, are we?

Can’t catch the duck, so you’re attacking the nest instead?

Jian Xin stretched her neck to glare at the Corgi, bitterly regretting that her duck anatomy prevented her from making a proper face to taunt the little dog.

The next moment, Yan Lu picked her up and sat her down at the computer desk.

A box of signed papers remained unfinished, the desk already covered with stacks of signed sheets.

Jian Xin craned her neck to peek at Yan Lu’s computer screen, spotting a paused web page for a variety show.

Yan Lu lowered her head, gazing at her phone as she transferred the newly taken photos to her computer, saving them in a folder named “Xin Xin and Cauliflower.”

Finally, she opened a chat window.

Jian Xin instinctively stood on tiptoe, craning her neck upward. Her eyes immediately landed on the “Happy Dog” emoji.

She froze for a moment, then focused her gaze—whoa! The person on the other end of the chat window was none other than herself!

Why is Yan Lu contacting me in the middle of the night? But I can’t reply right now!

A hint of anxiety flickered in Little Duck’s beady eyes, while Yan Lu simply stared blankly at the chat window for what felt like an eternity.

“Quack?” What’s she doing?

Little Duck tilted her head to the left, her gaze mirroring her owner’s dazed expression.

After an indeterminate amount of time, Yan Lu selected a few photos and dragged them into the input box.

Jian Xin snapped back to attention, her eyes widening in shock.

Yet, just over ten seconds later, Yan Lu silently cut the photos from the input box, turned around, and opened a chat window with Yao Wenqian and Lin Xiyu. Without hesitation, she sent the photos.

Jian Xin: “……”

What does this mean?

Lin Xiyu: Aww!

Lin Xiyu: Xin Xin and Cauliflower look so adorable in their outfits!

Lin Xiyu: Happy New Year, sweetie!

Yan Lu Er Qi: Happy New Year.

Jian Xin: “……”

Haha, “sweetie,” huh?

Don’t Steal My Little Pudding: So festive!

Yan Lu Er Qi: Happy

Jian Xin: “……”

Hahaha, she’s never even sent me an emoji!

Little Duck closed her eyes and slowly took a deep breath.

After a brief silence, the duck, her face radiating an icy indifference that humans likely couldn’t comprehend, stuck out her rear, flapped her wings, and hopped off Yan Lu’s lap.

She waddled over to Xin Xin, plopped into the dog’s cozy bed, and curled up into a tiny ball.

“Woof?!”

“Quack—”

Xin Xin tilted her head, her pointed ears twitching slightly, and reached out a paw to gently stroke the duck’s head.

Hmph, I see through human hearts…

In the end, dogs remain the most loyal.