Little Duckling - Chapter 30

As the first rays of dawn kissed the horizon, Jian Xin boarded her flight home.

Before takeoff, she snapped a photo of the airport and posted it on her WeChat Moments:

Heading home early for the New Year!

The moment she hit send, a like popped up. A closer look revealed it was Yan Lu’s little cousin.

A second later, her phone buzzed with a Q/Q notification. Yao Wenqian had sent her another “slacking off” meme.

Don’t Steal My Little Pudding: Image

Don’t Steal My Little Pudding: Smooth Sailing, Duck!

The image truly depicted a “Smooth Sailing Duck.” In the picture, a little duck ran across a grassy field, its tiny wings flapping so fast they blurred into afterimages. Its neck stretched long, head twisted back as if looking at the camera, beak wide open, and bean-like eyes brimming with wisdom.

Wasn’t this from a few days ago, when she had turned into a duck and Yan Lu had taken her downstairs for a walk?

Back then, she had just finished stretching, eaten breakfast, and fallen asleep on the bed while browsing novels on her phone. She woke up to Yan Lu saying she was going to take it downstairs for a walk.

That day, a sudden gust of wind had blown so hard she could barely stand. She could only flap her wings and let the wind carry her forward.

She heard Yan Lu calling “Cauliflower, Cauliflower!” behind her, and Xin Xin barked in response, so she glanced back.

In that instant, she saw Yan Lu smiling and snapping a photo of her.

That afternoon, Jian Xin woke up in her own bed. The moment she opened Q/Q on her phone, she saw the silly photo in her private chat.

It’s only been a few days, and Little Cousin has already drawn this!

Fine, draw it if you must, but why did she have to pick my dazed expression?

Jian Xin shook her head at the doodle when she heard the flight attendant’s announcement reminding passengers to switch their phones to airplane mode.

Snapping out of her thoughts, she replied, “Cauliflower is so cute! Quack!” before switching her phone to airplane mode.

On the way home, Jian Xin gazed down at the cloud layers resembling rolling ocean waves and drifted into a series of wild speculations.

Does the Duck abduction have a range limit?

If I can be abducted at home, will my parents be scared by my sudden bouts of sleepiness?

If the abduction only happens at a distance, should I consider moving back to Nanjiang?

Most of the Studio’s projects can be completed on a computer, with only rare occasions requiring studio recording. Even then, Nanjiang has paid recording studios available.

Her current job offers relative freedom, allowing her to live wherever she chooses…

Living with her family saved money and brought peace of mind. Her parents never pressured her about marriage; she just had to avoid gossipy relatives during holidays. Everything was perfect.

Yet she couldn’t shake a lingering reluctance. The thought of leaving Jin City filled her with an inexplicable sense of loss.

How strange, she mused. I never particularly liked this city before…

Could this sudden attachment be because of Yan Lu’s presence?

Ugh! What am I even thinking about?

It’s not like going home guarantees I won’t turn into a duck again. Nothing’s settled yet!

Time to sleep!

Jian Xin drifted in and out of sleep. In her hazy state, a fleeting thought flashed through her mind: What if I turn into a duck mid-flight? If the flight attendants can’t wake me up after landing, would they send me to the hospital?

The next moment, she jolted awake, her eyes snapping open.

Outside the window, the sky remained blue above, white clouds drifted below, and she was still strapped securely in her seat.

After a moment of silence, Jian Xin let out a relieved breath. Shaken, she unlocked her phone and began reading the novel she had downloaded earlier.

After deplaning, she hobbled through the airport on her crutches, following the crowd. Her eyes immediately spotted her parents, who had arrived early to greet her.

Huang He rushed forward, her gaze fixed on Jian Xin’s crutched leg. Her first words were: “Limping now? How cool is that?”

“Cool!” Jian Xin replied with a grin. “Mom, you’ve never flown before, have you? You might not believe it, but this car accident actually made me fly!”

“Fly? And then fall right back down in a second, right?” Huang He retorted, snatching the suitcase from her hand and tossing it to Jian Changjiang.

“No way! I flew for ages!” Now that I have wings, I should fly every few days, right?

“Alright, alright, you flew for ages. You’re so amazing!” Huang He chuckled, steadying Jian Xin. “I made you some pork rib soup to help your poor little bones recover!”

Jian Changjiang, carrying the luggage, glanced back at Jian Xin’s leg and couldn’t help but ask, “Does it still hurt?”

“Does it ever!” Jian Xin groaned dramatically. “Ugh, everyone always says bone injuries take a hundred days to heal, but I never took it seriously before. Now I’m thinking a hundred days isn’t nearly enough!”

“Want me to carry you?”

“Please, Dad, I’m not a kid anymore!” Jian Xin waved her hand dismissively. “It’s just a few steps. Don’t strain your back!”

To prove she was fine, she even hopped twice on one leg, though she looked rather unsteady. Huang He immediately grabbed her arm, and they half-carried her to the car.

Once inside, Jian Xin checked WeChat.

Several new likes and comments had appeared on her posts.

Within seconds, she spotted a Corgi avatar sticking its tongue out and tilting its head in the “likes” list.

Didn’t you say you weren’t using WeChat anymore?

Jian Xin couldn’t help but smile, her mood inexplicably brightening as she scrolled through the other comments.

One comment was from Director Niu: “Xiao Jian, welcome home! Get plenty of rest and take good care of your injuries.”

Director Niu had changed her profile picture. It was a full-body shot taken at an ocean museum, showing her in a light green dress, her short hair grazing her shoulders with slightly curled ends, giving her an air of elegance.

It’s true—once you’re no longer working, even your former oppressors start looking decent.

After a moment’s thought, Jian Xin replied: “Director Niu, your new profile picture is absolutely stunning!”

With that, she closed WeChat and casually opened Q/Q.

After she had switched to airplane mode, Yao Wenqian had replied with a “hehe.” The band group seemed to be discussing the recent scandal involving a live-streaming influencer whose product endorsements had backfired.

Not wanting to get involved in the drama, Jian Xin simply sent a shocked emoji before switching to Yan Lu’s private chat.

But despite opening the chat, no message would send.

After some deliberation, she first opened Yao Wenqian’s private chat and saved the “Smooth Sailing Duck” image.

Picked Up a Heart: Qian Qian, your cauliflower drawing is so adorable! Can I use it as my profile picture?

Don’t Steal My Little Pudding: Waaah, really?!

Don’t Steal My Little Pudding: Sister Xin, go ahead! Feel free to use any of my drawings you like—it makes me so happy!

Picked Up a Heart: Love youLove youLove you

Don’t Steal My Little Pudding: Blushing

Jian Xin hesitated for a few seconds on the profile picture change screen, then took a deep breath and changed both her Q/Q and WeChat avatars to Yao Wenqian’s Little Duck drawing.

The next moment, she reopened her private chat with Yan Lu and tentatively sent him an emoji.

Picked Up a Heart: Your Big Cutie Suddenly Appears

As soon as the emoji was sent, she couldn’t help but feel nervous.

The tension didn’t last long. Yan Lu always replied quickly when he was awake.

Yan Lu Er Qi: Remember to do your stretches when you get home.

Picked Up a Heart: Why are you like this?!

Picked Up a Heart: I poked you, not so you’d nag me about stretching!

Picked Up a Heart: Holding back tears

Picked Up a Heart: Can’t hold it in—waaaah!

Yan Lu Er Qi: Why did you change your profile picture?

Picked Up a Heart: Because I thought it was cute!

Picked Up a Heart: The cauliflower is cute, and Qian Qian’s drawing is adorable too!

Yan Lu Er Qi: Happy Dog

Jian Xin stared at the emoji for a moment, then her typing speed quickened.

Picked Up a Heart: You use emojis too?

Picked Up a Heart: Hahaha, this is the first time I’ve seen you use one!

To be precise, this was the first time Yan Lu had ever sent her an emoji. It was practically like the sun rising in the west!

Yan Lu Er Qi: How are your uncle and aunt doing?

Picked Up a Heart: How did the conversation suddenly take this turn?

Picked Up a Heart: They’re doing well. We’re having pork rib soup for dinner tonight.

Picked Up a Heart: But I really wanted sweet and sour fish.

Yan Lu Er Qi: Now that you’re home, what’s stopping you from having it?

Picked Up a Heart: True!

The conversation ended there. Jian Xin couldn’t resist rereading the chat history several times until a wave of motion sickness washed over her, forcing her to close her eyes.

By the time Jian Xin arrived home, the topic in the Little Band Group had already shifted to her.

We’ll All Get Rich · Zzzz

Should We Still Visit the Temple?: whispering Someone secretly changed their profile picture.

Should We Still Visit the Temple?: You gotta see this

Lanlan’s Sleepy: Why did she change it to a big goose?

Urgent King: I think it’s a duck.

Should We Still Visit the Temple?: Probably the duck from her ex’s place, right?

Lanlan’s Sleepy: Eureka!

Should We Still Visit the Temple?: I love it!

Lanlan’s Sleepy: I love it too much!

See You Later: Scratches head I’ll visit again later.

See You Later: I just think it’s really cute.

Stubborn Duck: Still being stubborn Mmm-hmm!

See You Later: ???

No, no, no!

Is that name polite? It doesn’t sound very polite, does it?

See You Later: Zheng Xinyue, show some respect for your own name!

Stubborn Duck: Still being stubborn Mmm-hmm-hmm-hmm!

Lanlan’s Sleepy: Covers mouth to stifle laughter

Urgent King: Laughs hysterically

Watching her friends’ reactions in the group chat, Jian Xin sighed, torn between laughter and exasperation.

She returned to her room, did ten minutes of stretches, then arranged her laptop and music equipment across her empty desk. Opening her music production software, she resumed work on her unfinished track.

Time flew by. Soon, her mother’s voice called from outside, “Dinner’s ready!”

“Coming!” Jian Xin replied, pausing her work. She grabbed her crutch and hobbled out of the room.

Huang He had already simmered a large pot of pork rib soup and stir-fried a plate of spicy shrimp, filling the kitchen with their savory aroma.

Jian Xin picked up her chopsticks and bowl, her face beaming with happiness as she began to eat.

As she ate, a wave of hesitation washed over her.

Huang He noticed Jian Xin’s hesitation and said, “If you have something to say, just say it. What’s the point of being so hesitant during a meal?”

Jian Changjiang asked, “Are you in trouble? Or are you short on money?”

“Hmm…” Jian Xin swallowed her food with difficulty, lowered her gaze, picked up a piece of sparerib, and poked it in the chili dipping sauce. “No trouble, and I’m not short on money. It’s just… it’s just—”

“Just what?” Huang He urged. “Speak clearly. Stop mumbling and beating around the bush. It’s making me anxious.”

“I saw Yan Lu,” Jian Xin said, pouting. “She asked me to send her regards to you both.”

Huang He’s hand paused slightly as she picked up another dish, but she quickly recovered her composure and asked casually, “Oh? When was this? How did you run into her?”

“The girl who bumped into me is her cousin,” Jian Xin mumbled, head bowed. “It’s kind of a coincidence, really. I was drunk that day and stumbled onto the main road. I have to take some responsibility for what happened—it’s just lucky I ran into someone I knew who didn’t make a fuss. Otherwise, I might really be short on money.”

“It’s not about the money,” Huang He said, pausing before continuing, “You’re lucky you weren’t permanently injured!” She looked up and asked, “How is she doing now?”

“She’s doing great,” Jian Xin replied. “Definitely better than me.”

“Of course,” Huang He said. “She always studied harder than you did.”

“……We’re on different paths,” Jian Xin retorted. “You can’t compare us like that!”

Jian Changjiang cleared his throat twice, steering the conversation back on track. “Good to hear she’s doing well. We should invite her back to visit sometime.”

Huang He nodded. “I’ll cook whatever she wants.”

“Okay,” Jian Xin replied, pressing her lips together. She fell silent, continuing to eat quietly.

That night, lying in her own bed, she stared blankly for a long time.

She stretched her arms wide, taking up most of the bed.

She remembered telling Yan Lu that her bed was big enough for two.

In truth, the bed wasn’t particularly large—not even as big as the one in her current rented apartment. But back then, sharing half of it with a classmate hadn’t felt like a luxury at all.

Yan Lu always preferred sleeping on her left side, the end closer to the wardrobe.

That girl slept so soundly at night. She’d fall asleep in one position and wake up in exactly the same one, unless you were crowding her. Otherwise, she wouldn’t move a muscle.

I wonder if she’s still like that now…

Jian Xin chuckled softly, shaking her head.

What a shame, she thought. Every time I turned into a Duck, I couldn’t outlast Yan Lu. I never even figured out what time she usually went to bed, let alone anything else.

Should I tell Yan Lu what Mom and Dad said?

Does she not want to come back, or is she afraid to?

Jian Xin tilted her head, gazing at the ceiling and blinking.

If I put myself in her shoes, I’d probably be too scared to come back too.

After all, Yan Lu had vanished without a word all those years ago. Apart from silently repaying a sum of money, she hadn’t sent back a single message. Suddenly reappearing now, it was only natural to feel apprehensive.

Afraid that Uncle and Auntie might still resent her, afraid of being questioned about what happened back then, afraid that nothing would ever be the same again…

But really, what’s there to be so afraid of?

As long as she’s safe and well, nothing else really matters.

Jian Xin pondered for a long time before finally clicking on Yan Lu’s private chat and typing out a message:

Picked Up a Heart: We had spicy shrimp and braised ribs for dinner tonight. Mom’s cooking is as amazing as ever!

I told Mom and Dad about meeting you. I mentioned you’re doing really well—way better than me, actually.

You know how Mom is, right?

The first thing she said was, “Of course! She always studied harder than you did!”

I argued, “We’re not even on the same path! You’re in literature, I’m in music. You can’t measure future success based solely on academic grades, can you?”

Anyway, they still think of you fondly. Dad hopes you’ll come visit sometime, and Mom said she’ll cook whatever you want!

It was a long message. As Jian Xin pressed send, her emotions were strangely complex.

She wasn’t sure if she was doing the right thing.

Her relationship with Yan Lu didn’t really lend itself to such familiar words, making it sound like they were still family.

Perhaps Xinyue and Lanlan were right—maybe she did have a tiny, just a tiny, desire to win Yan Lu back.

Out of habit, or perhaps out of lingering resentment.

If they hadn’t reunited, she would never have realized she had never truly let go of Yan Lu.

But their past had ended so acrimoniously, with so many unresolved issues. And now Yan Lu seemed to have a secret “Little Fairy” of her own. Jian Xin really shouldn’t keep setting herself up for disappointment…

The moment she sent the message, she could already anticipate Yan Lu’s polite refusal.

Maybe it’s time to wake up, she thought. This can’t go on. Sooner or later, I’ll have a mental breakdown.

As these thoughts swirled, Jian Xin unconsciously typed: But I know you’re busy, so you probably can’t make it. Hahahaha.

Just as she was about to send it, Yan Lu’s reply arrived first.

Yan Lu Er Qi: Sure.

Yan Lu Er Qi: Your auntie’s sweet and sour fish is especially delicious.

Jian Xin froze for a moment, then hastily deleted the unsent message.

Picked Up a Heart: Right?! Right?!

Picked Up a Heart: My mom’s sweet and sour fish—not to brag, but no restaurant can compare!

Picked Up a Heart: When you come, I’ll definitely make sure you get some!

Yan Lu Er Qi: Happy

Picked Up a Heart: Happy Dog

Jian Xin couldn’t help but burst into a “hihihihi~” laugh while clutching her phone. Realizing her laughter sounded a bit mischievous, she quickly adopted a stern, aloof expression.

Of course, this aloofness lasted only a few seconds before her face broke into a wide grin again.

She suddenly felt there was nothing wrong with sending the message after all.

Even if Yan Lu were secretly dating, so what? Would that change the fact that they used to be family?

Not at all!

Jian Xin screenshotted the chat log and tossed it into the “Family Member” WeChat group.

This Person is Dead: Screenshot

This Person is Dead: Mom! She wants sweet and sour fish!

Huang He: Okay!

Jian Changjiang: Thumbs up

A second later, she screenshotted the same chat log and sent it to Yan Lu.

Today’s such a happy day, she thought. Maybe Cauliflower’s profile picture brought me good luck?

She closed her eyes and took a few slow, deep breaths.

Will I go over there tonight?

She didn’t know, but a tiny spark of anticipation flickered in her heart.

It was half past three in the morning, but the study light still burned brightly.

The ducks and dogs in the house were sound asleep. The small duck nest always seemed to be crammed with two clingy little creatures.

On the black screen with white text, Yan Lu’s unfinished outline glowed. The music she’d listened to in her youth played softly in her ears once more.

Yan Lu glanced at the time in the lower right corner of her computer screen and sighed.

I meant to go to bed early tonight. How did I end up staying up this late again? And I’m not even tired…

She closed the outline and picked up her phone from the desk, glancing down at it.

Both WeChat and Q/Q showed a new contact with a duck avatar.

“Do you even have any sense of boundaries?” she muttered to herself, staring at the disheveled little duck in the profile picture. “Why are you using a drawing of my duck as your avatar?”

As she spoke, a hint of amusement flickered in her eyes.

In the duck nest, Little Duck suddenly opened her eyes. Unseen by her owner, she tilted her head and stared blankly for a moment.

After a brief daze, she slowly rose, carefully nudging away from Xin Xin with quiet wings and soft steps. Accompanied by the familiar melody, she wobbled over to Yan Lu’s feet.

“Quack!” Little Duck called out, tilting her head upward.

Yan Lu snapped out of her reverie, smiling as she scooped the duck up from the floor and gently placed her on her lap.

“Why have you been getting up so much at night lately?” Yan Lu tilted her head, gently poking Cauliflower’s dazed little head. “Is someone keeping you awake?”

“Quack?” What do you mean, “someone else” keeping me awake?

The little duck vigorously flapped her wings, expressing her displeasure.

But Yan Lu completely missed the hint, casually smoothing her feathers before returning to her phone.

“Quack-ah!” What’s so interesting? I want to see too!

The little duck stood on tiptoe, stretching her neck as far as it would go, beak agape, trying to peek at the screen, but her height betrayed her.

“Standing so tall—what are you trying to see?” Yan Lu asked, her eyes crinkling with amusement. She held the phone screen right up to the duck’s beak. “Mommy’s looking at Xin Xin. Do you want to see Xin Xin too?”

Jian Xin: “……”

I thought she was looking at something fun, but it’s just that dog Xin Xin.

However, Yan Lu wasn’t looking at a photo; she was viewing a doodle Yao Wenqian had drawn during her break.

In the drawing, Xin Xin’s rump was arched, her short legs seemingly sprinting forward, her tail blown by the wind like a messy duster. Beneath her feet lay the same grassy lawn as the “Smooth Sailing Duck” illustration.

Her little head was turned back, pink tongue lolling, her face radiating cleverness.

Jian Xin hadn’t seen this drawing before. Now that she did, she felt justified in suspecting Yao Wenqian of favoritism!

Yes, that’s it! Yao Wenqian must be a dog person!

Otherwise, why would she always draw Xin Xin so adorably, while Cauliflower always looked inexplicably dull and clumsy?

Just as Jian Xin was lost in these wild thoughts, Yan Lu suddenly took the phone away.

A few seconds later, Yan Lu reached out and gently lifted Little Duck’s plump chest, then held the phone screen up to its flat, elongated beak again.

“Mommy changed her profile picture,” she said, waving the phone in front of Little Duck. Her voice suddenly softened to a whisper. “Because… she changed hers today too… to you.”

“Quack?”

“Cauliflower, what do you think it means that she changed her profile picture to you?”

Jian Xin opened her beak, wanting to say something, but only managed a “Quack!”

Yan Lu: “Maybe it’s just because you’re really cute.”

“Quack, quack!”

Yan Lu smiled and ruffled Little Duck’s head, her gaze distant and thoughtful.

After a long silence, she murmured, “Why are there still four people in that group chat?”

“What do you think I really mean to her…?”

Jian Xin tilted her head back, staring blankly at Yan Lu.

In that instant, her thoughts completely unraveled.