Little Duckling - Chapter 28

“Are you some kind of little fairy?”

Jian Xin couldn’t understand why she was so angry.

Yan Lu had merely hesitated before deciding not to share photos of her pets with her. Given their current relationship, this wasn’t surprising at all. So why was she so upset?

But emotions are uncontrollable things. Even when something is lost or a chance is missed, she still greedily clung to the subconscious hope of retaining some special status in someone’s eyes.

Then again, perhaps she was being treated specially.

The photos had already been typed into the message box, but Yan Lu ultimately deleted them without sending. Anyone else could receive them, but not her, right?

Yan Lu had promised to try letting go of past unpleasantness, but as always, words were easier said than done.

Jian Xin couldn’t help but wish she’d never known about it.

After all, apart from reminders to stretch, Yan Lu rarely initiated conversations with her. If she hadn’t witnessed that moment of hesitation, she wouldn’t be feeling so down.

Whether happy or sad, the fundamental truths remained: when hungry, one must eat; when tired, one must sleep.

To the sound of laughter and chatter from the variety show, Little Duck snuggled against Big Corgi and drifted off to sleep.

She had another dream.

In the dream, the school was holding a sports day. She was on the bleachers with her friends, happily playing Werewolf with the cards she’d brought.

The sun beat down overhead, yet she felt something was missing. She looked around, searching.

Her gaze swept past the blurred faces of her classmates until, in a distant corner, she spotted a silent girl hugging her knees, lost in thought.

She tried to call out to her, but her voice was drowned out by a sudden surge of cheering and shouting.

By the time her classmates finished their races, the girl was gone.

She left her seat and searched everywhere, venturing beyond the bleachers and out of the gymnasium.

The streets at 3:30 PM were deserted, with barely any cars.

A torrential downpour suddenly began. Through the rain, she finally spotted the familiar figure she’d been longing for…

Should I chase after her?

She hesitated, staring until the heavy rain blurred everything around her, including that distant figure.

Jian Xin slowly opened her eyes, a strange feeling stirring within her.

The bedroom was dimly lit and familiar, the incessant ringing of a Q/Q voice call piercing the silence.

She turned slightly, reached for her phone on the pillow, and answered.

“Stretching exercises,” Yan Lu’s voice came through the speaker.

“Ugh—” Jian Xin groaned weakly in response.

“Just waking up?”

“Tired,” Jian Xin mumbled softly. “Too many dreams. It makes it hard to sleep well.”

A moment of silence followed before Yan Lu said quietly, “Time for stretching.”

Fine—whatever!

Jian Xin let out a dramatic “Ouch!” and sat up in bed, raising her clenched fists high above her head and stretching her arms wide.

Stretching exercises? I can do them with my eyes closed, right?

With that thought, she shut her eyes and placed her hands on her right leg.

Accompanied by a series of bizarre grunts and groans—”Heave-ho! Heave-yah! Ow-ow-ow! Ahh! Ugh!”—Jian Xin completed fifteen minutes of stretching and massage, the pain jolting her fully awake.

Yan Lu hung up the call. Jian Xin tilted her head, sitting on the bed in a daze.

She had dreamed of high school again.

Over the years, she often dreamed of her high school days.

The familiar sports field, the familiar cafeteria, the familiar classroom buildings, the familiar dormitory…

And a familiar, silent Yan Lu.

So much time had passed that she couldn’t even remember what had drawn her to Yan Lu in the first place.

Time flies like an arrow, days pass like a shuttle—a fleeting sense of time she hadn’t grasped in her youth now filled her with wistful sighs and poignant reflections.

Back then, their relationship had been pure and passionate.

Now, they had broken up, reunited, become friends, and were on daily phone calls to monitor her recovery training…

If she hadn’t experienced it firsthand, Jian Xin would never have imagined that one day she and Yan Lu could share such a delicate dynamic.

The bedroom was quiet, her thoughts drifting far away.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang. It was the private chef Yan Lu had hired to prepare a nutritious meal.

Jian Xin leaned on her crutch and walked to the living room to open the door.

From sitting and waiting for the meal to finishing it, she remained in a half-distracted state.

How strange—she was still thinking about those photos she hadn’t received.

Why couldn’t she just send them to me?

Even if I’ve already seen them, I still want to receive them…

Sometimes Jian Xin wondered if “telekinesis” truly existed in the world. If one’s mental power was strong enough, could they obtain anything they desired?

Yes, that’s right—she had seen those photos.

But only through a ridiculously circuitous route.

Ever since finishing her meal, Jian Xin had been mindlessly scrolling through short videos on the sofa.

Suddenly, a Q/Q notification popped up on her phone.

She tapped it open to find Yao Wenqian had sent her a new “slacking off” meme.

This time, the meme wasn’t related to Yan Lu’s novel, but it still had a strong connection to Yan Lu herself.

It featured a Corgi wearing a red jacket and a Call Duck with a red ribbon tied around its neck.

The Corgi’s short legs were wrapped around the duck’s neck, while the duck’s wings were slightly spread, its beady eyes wide and vacant, giving it a rather dim-witted appearance.

Jian Xin: “……”

What the heck? Was that really my expression back then?

Don’t Steal My Little Pudding: Cute, right?!

Picked Up a Heart: So adorable!!!

The next second, Yao Wenqian bombarded her with several more photos.

Picked Up a Heart: Jaw-dropping emoji

Don’t Steal My Little Pudding: These are my cousin’s dog and duck!

 Don’t Steal My Little Pudding:  Hehehehe

 Don’t Steal My Little Pudding:  You’ve never seen anything like it!

Ugh—she’s definitely never seen anything like it!

 Picked Up a Heart:  Never seen anything so cute!

 Don’t Steal My Little Pudding:  I’ve even cuddled them! The two little ones are absolutely adorable!

 Picked Up a Heart:  Wow!

 Don’t Steal My Little Pudding:  Sister Jian Xin, you should come cuddle them too sometime!

 Picked Up a Heart:  Hahahahahaha

She desperately wanted to see them! Heaven knows how much she longed to study that Cauliflower and figure out what kind of divine creature it was.

But given her current relationship with Yan Lu, directly asking to visit her home without a good reason would likely be met with a polite refusal.

Still, if she ever got the chance to visit Yan Lu’s house, her first order of business would be to train the dog—she’d make that little Corgi understand who the real Xin Xin was!

Jian Xin thought this through, grinding her teeth, her gaze unconsciously drifting back to the photos Yao Wenqian had sent.

After a long silence, she picked out a photo she particularly liked and forwarded it to Yan Lu.

In the photo, Cauliflower stood tall and proud, wings spread wide, neck stretched long, bravely facing the much larger Corgi with an air of regal defiance.

 Picked Up a Heart:  Is this your duck? He looks so spirited!

Yan Lu Er Qi: It’s alright. At home, it acts like it doesn’t know its own family, always thinking it’s the head of the household. But then the dog pins it down and teaches it who’s boss.

Picked Up a Heart: Stunned

Yan Lu Er Qi: Qian Qian sent you that?

Picked Up a Heart: Yeah.

Picked Up a Heart: I only knew you had a duck and a dog. This is the first time I’ve actually seen them.

Picked Up a Heart: Laughing hysterically

Yan Lu Er Qi: I rarely take photos of them.

Picked Up a Heart: They’re so cute! You should take more pictures.

Picked Up a Heart: Post them on Weibo, WeChat Moments, or just send them to friends!

Picked Up a Heart: Those two adorable little guys would brighten anyone’s day!

Jian Xin paused, then added—

Picked Up a Heart: I absolutely love seeing them!

Before she sent the message, Yan Lu’s status showed “typing.” As soon as the message went through, the “typing” status disappeared, and no new message appeared.

Jian Xin bit her lower lip and sighed at her phone.

The next moment, a flood of photos and screen recordings suddenly flooded the chat.

Jian Xin’s eyes widened. She scrolled back to the first photo and patiently flipped through them.

Yan Lu claimed she rarely took photos of them, but this collection, though not extensive, captured every precious moment of the two little creatures’ growth.

Before Yan Lu adopted Cauliflower, her home had only an empty dog bed, which was always unoccupied.

Xin Xin loved to sprawl outside the dog bed, her short legs stretched straight out in front and behind as the setting sun streamed through the window. Her tail drooped on the floor, her sleeping posture arrogant, her eyes half-closed in a dreamy haze.

She would eat her dog food with her rump in the air, wag her tail as she chewed on slippers, sometimes wearing a pitiful expression, sometimes leaving the house in a chaotic mess, yet always able to look at the camera with her tongue lolling out, her face radiating innocent charm.

Later photos featured a new addition: Cauliflower.

The first Cauliflower was a tiny, palm-sized yellow duckling with a slightly bald patch on its head.

Xin Xin lowered her head, her nose nudging the duckling’s head with curiosity, as if she could swallow it whole in one gulp.

But the very next photo showed the two creatures sleeping side-by-side in the warm glow of the setting sun.

The golden light bathed their intertwined forms in a particularly tender warmth.

As the duckling grew, it shed its yellow down for a pristine white coat of feathers. Its wings hardened, and it dared to challenge the dog.

In subsequent photos and videos, there were numerous scenes of Duck preparing to ambush Gouzi, or having already succeeded and flapping its wings as it turned to flee.

Jian Xin chuckled as she scrolled through the images on her phone.

She had always thought Xin Xin was a little bully who enjoyed tormenting Cauliflower.

But now, seeing these photos, she realized that Xin Xin’s aggression toward Cauliflower had been provoked by Cauliflower’s own antics since they were young.

Despite their daily squabbles, the two little creatures still slept together every night.

Jian Xin silently finished browsing the photos and let out a long sigh.

Ah, when you’ve been single for too long, even watching adorable animals with reproductive isolation interact feels like being force-fed romance.

Picked Up a Heart: They’re so cute!

Picked Up a Heart: This is so heartwarming.

Picked Up a Heart: Watching this makes me want to get a pet too.

Jian Xin stared at the message she had typed but not sent, hesitated briefly, then silently deleted it.

After pondering for a while, she couldn’t resist asking a seemingly unrelated question that she managed to awkwardly connect to the previous conversation.

Picked Up a Heart: You’ve taken quite a lot of photos!

Picked Up a Heart: I noticed your Weibo only features your novels. Do you just save these photos for yourself, or do you post them on Qzone or WeChat Moments?

Picked Up a Heart: Your WeChat Moments is so empty! Did you accidentally block me when you added me as a friend?

Picked Up a Heart: Given our current relationship, do you think you could unblock me?

After a brief silence, Yan Lu sent a screenshot—it showed her WeChat Moments interface.

Apart from a name, profile picture, and signature, there was nothing else. Just an empty “Today” section, utterly barren and spotless.

Jian Xin paused, then silently sent back a “牛牛牛” (Awesome!) sticker.

Picked Up a Heart: This is the first time I’ve seen someone’s WeChat Moments even cleaner than my face.

Yan Lu Er Qi: I just don’t feel like there’s much worth posting.

Picked Up a Heart: True, you hardly use WeChat anyway.

Yan Lu Er Qi: Actually, I think you’re the one who blocked me.

Uh… uh-uh-uh… uh-uh-uh-uh-uh…

Jian Xin gasped, staring at Yan Lu’s message for ages, unsure how to respond.

After several seconds of awkward silence, she sheepishly opened WeChat and adjusted Yan Lu’s permissions.

Picked Up a Heart: hahahahahaha

Picked Up a Heart: You know, when we first added each other, things were a bit awkward between us!

Picked Up a Heart: I’ve already changed the permissions!

Picked Up a Heart: But I haven’t been posting much lately anyway.

After replying, Jian Xin instinctively switched to her WeChat to check her recent posts.

Phew, good thing! She really hadn’t posted anything recently. The latest entry was still the photos of drinks and cake from her birthday.

With that thought, Jian Xin switched back to Q/Q.

Yan Lu replied with a simple “Mm.”

This conversation is probably over, Jian Xin thought, sending a smiling emoji before quietly closing the chat window and aimlessly scrolling through short videos again.

Whether it was because she’d seen so many photos of Cauliflower and Xin Xin, or because she now knew Yan Lu’s WeChat Moments had always been empty, Jian Xin suddenly felt light as a feather. Even while scrolling through short videos, she found herself humming along to the background music.

See? You should always ask what’s on your mind! Keeping it bottled up is just self-inflicted torment.

With that thought, she flopped back onto the sofa and happily drifted back to sleep.

In late April, just before the May Day holiday, Third High School held a three-day sports meet.

For those three days, students lined up in long queues early each morning and, led by their teachers, marched a kilometer to the gymnasium. They remained there until the event concluded around 4 or 5 PM, when they were organized into groups and escorted back to school.

Although the official policy was to return to school by class, most teachers allowed students to eat dinner off-campus before heading back.

After all, the teachers knew the school cafeteria’s food wasn’t great, and boarding students often snuck out for a change of pace.

So, once they were beyond the watchful eyes of the red-armbanded monitors, the class formations would typically dissolve on the spot.

To avoid the heat and boredom of sitting in the stands for days, Jian Xin had prepared a set of the wildly popular Werewolf card game in advance.

The six roommates, along with a few classmates sitting nearby, gathered in a circle, surrounded by snacks. Some were deducing, others defending, and still others bluffing—the game was played with feverish intensity.

However, to avoid getting a lecture from their Home Room Teacher, whenever a classmate participated in an event, they would immediately set aside their game, stand up, and join the rest of the class in cheering.

After the game, Jian Xin would sit back down and immediately ask, “Whose turn is it to speak now?”

The Home Room Teacher didn’t mind this too much, even occasionally leaning in to observe for a while.

But this game of Werewolf wasn’t really about deduction; it was more about trust between people.

Jian Xin had simply drawn the Werewolf Card once, successfully tricking everyone into voting off all the Good People. After that, she became the target of endless suspicion, leaving her utterly defenseless.

After being wrongly voted out for the third time, she couldn’t help but wail, “Do I really look that much like a wolf?”

“Yes, you look exactly like one!”

“Every word you say just reeks of lies!”

“And every time you try to analyze things seriously, it feels like you’re deliberately leading us to kill the Good People!”

“Jian Xin’s mouth—a liar’s trap!”

“……” How could this be happening? Wasn’t she supposed to be a well-behaved girl?

Come to think of it, aside from not paying attention in class, her grades never improving, being repeatedly criticized by the Dorm Teacher but never changing her ways, sneaking her own sausages into the hotpot, and getting into a fight with some idiot, she had always been a very honest person!

Why did everyone think she was so good at manipulating people?

When they played Werewolf together, Yan Lu was different.

She remained completely silent throughout the game. Whenever it was her turn to speak, she would only say, “I don’t know,” or “I’m not sure,” and then quietly follow the majority vote during the voting phase.

No one ever suspected her of being a wolf, yet she silently played the role twice—killing players at night and voting them out during the day. She even voted out her own teammates with remarkable composure, managing to survive until the end without drawing any attention to herself.

The classmate hosting the game couldn’t help but marvel during the post-game analysis: “Yan Lu’s emotional stability is incredible! She didn’t show a single tell!”

“Yeah, unlike Yang Tian, whose eyes gave her away the moment she drew the wolf card!”

“Waaah, Li Zhu, shut up! Don’t you care about my pride?!”

“It’s the truth!”

“One more round! One more round! If I get the wolf card again, I definitely won’t let you figure it out this time!”

Yang Tian protested stubbornly as everyone reached for the cards in the host’s hand once more.

But then, the sky suddenly began to darken, as if a heavy rainstorm was imminent.

Liang Shuangyi glanced up at the sky. “Is it really going to rain? I didn’t bring an umbrella…”

Before she could finish speaking, the gymnasium’s loudspeaker crackled to life, announcing that today’s competition would be suspended. Teachers were instructed to organize their classes and guide students back to school in an orderly manner.

Home Room Teacher Lao Li immediately stood up, grabbed his blue megaphone, and began calling out to his class.

The students scrambled to pack their bags, scattering books, drinks, snacks, and playing cards across the floor in a chaotic mess.

Jian Xin shoved the cards into her backpack, rose to her feet, tugged on Yan Lu’s sleeve, and hurried after her roommates.

The class’s formation dissolved shortly after leaving the gymnasium. In the blink of an eye, the roommates who had been walking together just moments ago had vanished into the crowd. Yan Lu found herself surrounded by unfamiliar students from other classes, all rushing in different directions.

Yan Lu clung tightly to Jian Xin’s heels as raindrops began to fall, large, cold drops splattering against their skin.

Jian Xin remained unhurried. She calmly retrieved a navy blue plaid umbrella from her backpack, opened it with practiced ease, and held it aloft.

“Good thing I brought an umbrella,” she said, adjusting her backpack to her front and patting it twice with a playful grin. “Bet you didn’t expect this, huh? My backpack—it’s got everything but textbooks!”

“Amazing!” Yan Lu exclaimed, genuinely impressed.

The sudden downpour caught many pedestrians off guard, sending them scurrying for cover. Some darted into roadside shops, while others trudged forward, heads bowed against the rain.

Though it was barely four in the afternoon, the sky had darkened as if night were approaching.

Fearing the umbrella wouldn’t provide enough shelter if the rain intensified, Jian Xin hurriedly pulled Yan Lu along, quickening their pace.

As they walked, the rain seemed to ease slightly, and the sky brightened a fraction.

Just as Jian Xin hesitated whether to close the umbrella, a sudden gust of wind tore across the sky.

In that instant, she gripped the umbrella tightly, but the wind forced it forward, flipping it inside out.

The force of the gale pushed her back two steps against her will.

Realizing the danger, she released the umbrella, watching helplessly as it was swept away by the wind and rain.

Following the direction of the wind, Jian Xin glanced back.

I didn’t know what I was missing until I saw it, and then I was shocked!

She saw a rain line.

The sky behind them seemed to have been cleaved in two, one half faintly bright, the other dark and ominous.

Dark, swirling clouds, driven by the wind, carried a torrential downpour that was rapidly closing in on them.

“Aah!” Jian Xin shrieked, grabbing Yan Lu’s hand and turning to flee.

The road ahead offered no shelter—only a gray wall on one side and roadside greenery on the other.

They ran for their lives, the thunderous rain chasing relentlessly behind them.

That afternoon, the wind was so fierce it felt like it could lift them off their feet. They sprinted with the gale at their backs, each stride as light as if they were flying.

Jian Xin ran ahead, shrieking wildly, as if her screams could outrun the storm.

But they couldn’t outpace the rain line. Soon, they were drenched to the bone in the torrential downpour.

They weren’t the only ones caught in the rain without umbrellas. Groups of students in school uniforms, their faces young and unfamiliar, were also running for cover.

Soaked to the bone and resigned to their fate, Jian Xin’s shrieks gradually turned into laughter.

She slowed her pace, panting heavily, and turned to Yan Lu, shouting over the roar of the rain, “I’m still missing something from my backpack!”

“What is it?” Yan Lu yelled back.

“Why don’t I have a Anywhere Door?!” Jian Xin exclaimed, making an exaggerated gesture of reaching out and opening a door in mid-air. “Whoosh—just open it, and we’d be back in our dorm, dry as a bone!”

Yan Lu stared blankly at Jian Xin, at the girl struggling through the rain, her eyes barely able to stay open, yet still wearing that carefree smile.

After a moment of stunned silence, Yan Lu couldn’t help but crack a smile herself.

Cupping her hands around her mouth, she shouted, “Are you some kind of little fairy?”

“What little fairy?! The Anywhere Door belongs to Doraemon!” Jian Xin protested, then, noticing the flicker of confusion in Yan Lu’s eyes, she launched into a lively description, gesturing wildly. “Dingdang Cat! Blue, red nose, big mouth, no ears! White, round hands, a half-moon pocket on his belly that can hold anything! Have you never seen him?!”

Yan Lu shook her head.

“Never mind that!” Jian Xin waved dismissively, grabbing Yan Lu’s hand again. “Let’s hurry back to school!”

With that, she turned and chased after the wind and rain, sprinting toward the campus.

Yan Lu gazed at the hand holding hers, at the water splashing beneath their feet.

The rain roared around them, yet her world felt utterly silent.

So silent, it was as if only one voice echoed in her ears, growing louder with each heartbeat, expanding infinitely.

She realized she didn’t yearn for the Anywhere Door Jian Xin had described.

She would gladly endure this rain—this rain with Jian Xin by her side.