The Little Duck 65

Chapter 65

After returning home, Jian Xin once again lived a not-so-regular but quite healthy life.

If she could wake up at noon every day, she would go downstairs with Yan Lu to walk Xin Xin and Cauliflower. If she really couldn’t wake up, she could also hop around downstairs with Yan Lu in the form of a duck.

Although the recording of Musical Encounter had ended, the program was still being updated every week.

When Jian Xin was in Lintai, she could turn into a duck almost every time the program was updated, as if it were a matter of metaphysics. But when she returned home, she was suddenly not so punctual.

She wanted to watch the update with Yan Lu, so before the program was about to be updated, she walked to the study door and poked her head in.

Yan Lu turned her head and looked at her with a blank expression, as if to say—if you have something to say, say it, and if you have something to fart, fart it.

So she blinked and asked softly, “Musical Encounter is about to start. Should we watch it together?”

And then Yan Lu rejected her.

Yes, it was still the same old story. In front of Yan Lu, a person was never as good as a duck.

Cauliflower on the side, as if it had understood, was quacking “quack quack quack quack quack hahaha ah ha.”

Jian Xin subconsciously turned her head and glared at it, only to see Xin Xin spinning in place, chasing its own tail in a strange anger, and Cauliflower was currently quacking at Xin Xin.

—Damn it, so it was laughing at Xin Xin? I accidentally took it personally.

Jian Xin scurried back to her own room, put on her headphones, and opened a webpage by herself to wait for the update.

The main episode of the program was less than two hours.

Even though she had participated in the recording, she would still be amused or moved to the point of a sour nose by the production team’s ability to play with jokes and grasp the key points when she was watching the main episode.

When the program was almost at an end, the WeChat on Jian Xin’s computer, which was hanging, started to call.

She clicked on it and saw that it was her family’s group.

Huang He: Highest score in the entire show

Huang He: [Thumbs up for you]

Jian Changjiang: [Thumbs up for you]

Happy Duck: [How invincible, how lonely]

The next second, her parents sent her red envelopes of 188 and 166.

Such red envelopes would come every week.

Actually, her parents both knew that their daughter was not short of this money now, but the moment they saw their daughter shining on such a big stage, they couldn’t help but want to give her more encouragement.

Jian Xin accepted the red envelopes and happily sent the [Thank you, boss] sticker three times in a row.

Looking to the left, her roommates in the dorm group chat were also congratulating her for getting the highest score in the entire show again.

And everyone in her band group was also watching her stage every week.

Everyone was chatting happily about something, and Jian Xin would send all sorts of happy-looking stickers when she opened it.

As she was sending them, the family group started to call again.

Jian Xin clicked on it and saw that it was Huang He who was starting to urge her to go home.

Huang He: When are you coming back this year?

Happy Duck: I haven’t thought about it yet.

Huang He: If you’re not busy, then come back early.

Huang He: If you come back early, the tickets will be cheap, and you won’t have to fight for them.

Happy Duck: I still have a lot of songs to write.

Huang He: It’s not like there’s no equipment at home.

Happy Duck: I actually think you have a good point.

Huang He: Nonsense, I’m your mom.

Jian Xin was choked for a moment, then smiled and shook her head.

Happy Duck: I’ll look at the tickets later.

Huang He: Is Xiao Lu coming back this year?

Jian Xin looked at this message for a long time, then suddenly took a deep breath, silently took a screenshot, and mustered up the courage to send it to Yan Lu.

Picked Up a Heart: [Screenshot]

Picked Up a Heart: Are you going back to Nanjiang this year?

Picked Up a Heart: [Expectant eyes]

Perched by the Roadside: No, it’s not convenient.

Picked Up a Heart: I’m afraid I’ll sleep on the road.

Perched by the Roadside: You’ve been recording the program for three months, and I haven’t seen you sleep.

Picked Up a Heart: [Dumbfounded]

Picked Up a Heart: [Hesitates to speak]

Picked Up a Heart: [Speechless]

Jian Xin pouted, and finally, with a very tactful [oh] sticker, she ended this failed invitation.

The Yan Lu of now was just like this, her words of refusal were so easy, and she didn’t even need to think for a single second.

Is this the confidence of a successful person?

A birthday wish is just a wish, there’s no need to expect it to come true.

But it doesn’t matter. What can’t be done this year can be done next year. It’s not like life will stop if it can’t be done this year.

Picked Up a Heart: Then I’ll buy my own ticket.

Perched by the Roadside: Mmm.

Alright, if I have to buy it myself, then I’ll buy it myself.

Jian Xin bought herself a high-speed train ticket back to Nanjiang at the beginning of February, and with some listlessness, she stood up from her computer desk and fell onto her bed.

Yan Lu always seemed to be hot and cold to her, distant, clearly having softened, but still maintaining a hint of caution.

She had a faint feeling that there was really just a little bit of distance between them, but every time she mustered up the courage and tentatively stretched out a foot to cross the line, she would be driven away on the spot.

Yan Lu seemed to be still struggling with something, perhaps some problems that had not been solved back then, and were still not solved now.

Jian Xin thought for a long time, but she just couldn’t figure it out.

Seven years, not long, but not short either.

She had once thought that her memory was very good and that she could remember all the good and bad between her and Yan Lu, but now her memory was getting worse and worse, and many details had been blurred by the years.

She tried hard to search back and forth between the past and the present, trying to remember what she had not noticed that could make Yan Lu struggle until now.

As she was thinking, she felt a little sleepy. She got up and washed up, took off her cotton coat, and got into bed.

The days continued to pass slowly.

At the beginning of February, Jian Xin took a high-speed train back to Nanjiang by herself.

Just two days after she got home, An Inch of Heart released its first trailer.

The trailer was a total of nine minutes, and a song called “Guarding an Inch of Heart” was inserted.

This song was sung by the lyrical queen Feng Man, with lyrics and music by Jian Xin.

The neighboring Musical Encounter had just ended perfectly, and the popularity of Xin Man Yi Zu was at its peak. The production team clearly wanted to ride on it, and they had almost worked overtime to rush out such a trailer, and had directly released this song on various platforms.

The moment this song was released, its popularity instantly exploded, and the internet was full of various edits and covers.

Jian Xin had another representative work, and more and more people went to dig up her old works.

This time, many of the songs she had written before had gone from a few dozen or a hundred comments to several thousand comments—not very popular, but no longer so cold that no one cared.

Jian Xin looked at her soaring data on various platforms and couldn’t help but happily send a private message to thank Feng Man.

Feng Man was also happy for her, and when she was promoting the new song, she had specially emphasized that the lyrics and music of this song were all written by Jian Xin.

In the past, in Musical Encounter, there had been a clip of Jian Xin asking Feng Man why she didn’t take her song, and it was also because of this that Feng Man had accepted this song.

At that time, many people felt that Feng Man’s response was very doting, but there were also many people who felt that this junior was a little arrogant and not very polite.

—What kind of masterpiece did you write that Feng Man has to accept it?

—How good is a custom-made song? Are we, the noble SVIPs, not worthy of listening to it? I want to see how good this song is, that you dare to force Feng Man in this kind of occasion.

—Young people shouldn’t be so arrogant. There are many people in the world who are good at writing songs. It’s not that she has to sing your song just because you wrote it.

Such comments were not uncommon under Jian Xin’s Weibo when that segment was first broadcast.

Not long after this song was released, a hot search appeared, called—#I apologize to Jian Xin#

When she clicked in, she saw a large group of netizens watching a netizen’s large-scale “true fragrance” scene.

Three months ago, this netizen had published a short essay on Weibo about “I really can’t stand Jian Xin asking Feng Man why she didn’t take her song on the show.”

It said that Feng Man was a very decent person, and this song was not necessarily very good, but since she was asked in person, she would have accepted it no matter what. This was to not discourage the junior, and not necessarily because she really liked it.

It also said that Feng Man’s musical taste had always been very high, and now, on a variety show, she had to accept a song she didn’t like very much for the sake of this decency, which was really heartbreaking.

This short essay had a few hundred forwards at that time, and the comment section was basically in agreement with her complaints and views.

Three months later, today, she had forwarded this short essay.

The caption was, “I apologize to Jian Xin! This song is really good!! I’ve already looped it hundreds of times!!! Wuwuwuwuwuwu!!!!!”

At this moment, there were already over two thousand forwards and over four thousand comments.

When she clicked on the forwards and hot comments, she saw that many of the people who had followed her in complaining had also become “true fragrance.”

Jian Xin clicked into the original poster’s homepage and saw that it was a very lively young lady, and she couldn’t help but smile and forward this forward.

The caption was, “Thank you, true fragrance young lady.”

—Congratulations, true fragrance sister, you’ve been targeted by the original person.

—Coming to watch the true fragrance scene!

—You thought Feng Man took this song for the sake of decency, but you didn’t expect that she really thought it was good.

To this, the original poster was terrified, and with a large pile of exclamation marks, she praised Jian Xin in the comment section of her forward, and said that from today on, she would be her fan for life.

This comment was quickly liked to the top of the hot comments by passersby.

Jian Xin replied to her, “I believe you!”

Then she smiled and took a screenshot and sent it to Yan Lu.

Picked Up a Heart: LOL, I’ve gained a fan for life!

Perched by the Roadside: Then congratulations.

Perched by the Roadside: But the credibility of such words is not high.

Picked Up a Heart: That’s true.

Jian Xin looked at the chat box and thought for a while, then seriously started to type.

She said that any person and thing is constantly changing.

A lifetime’s promise is too long, and it takes too much courage to fulfill it, and many people actually don’t have this courage.

But even if you know that those lifetime promises are not very credible, you don’t necessarily have to rush to deny such a promise.

Because the moment you say “a lifetime,” even if you don’t have a very long-term vision, there is at least a sincere heart.

She also said that she would choose to believe in the sincerity of that moment, and with the mentality that it might not last long, she would treat this short companionship as a gift.

If it really was for a lifetime, then that would be the biggest surprise.

Even if it wasn’t for a lifetime, it was still a journey with her, and she had long been mentally prepared, so she would not be too disappointed.

Finally, she said—after so long, she felt more and more that the courage to be willing to believe in a person, a matter, is actually far more precious than the final result.

Yan Lu looked at the message Jian Xin had sent and couldn’t help but lower her eyebrows in thought.

The little duck looked up at its owner, its head tilted slightly.

The randomly playing list was stuck because of a song that had suddenly lost its copyright.

Everything, as luck would have it, became quiet at that moment.

The other side was always showing “typing,” but there was no follow-up for a long time.

Yan Lu seemed to want to say something, and almost instinctively, she typed out a rebuttal, but then she hesitated and deleted it.

Her thoughts were suddenly in a mess. She didn’t know what she wanted to ask, and she didn’t know what Jian Xin was “typing” on the other side.

They seemed to have both fallen into a silence.

After a long silence, it was Jian Xin who sent a message.

She had been typing on the other end for so long, but the message was far from as long as Yan Lu had imagined.

Picked Up a Heart: Yan Lu, have you ever logged into your old account?

Picked Up a Heart: I mean your author account.

Perched by the Roadside: I have.

Picked Up a Heart: Then have you seen the comments in the backstage?

Perched by the Roadside: No.

Picked Up a Heart: Oh!

After a brief silence, Jian Xin sent another message.

Picked Up a Heart: Why don’t you go up and take a look?

Yan Lu was taken aback for a moment and did not reply.

Time passed by, second by second, and Jian Xin did not send any more messages.

This silence lasted for who knows how long when Xin Xin suddenly woke up and ran to the empty bowl and started to bark.

Yan Lu quickly came back to her senses, got up and walked to the kitchen, and solved its food problem. Only then did she sit back down at her computer.

She hesitated for a long time, and finally made up her mind, logged out of her current author account, and logged into the old account that she had not logged into for at least two or three years.

Before the income from the old works on this account had completely died, Yan Lu had opened this account more than once and had applied for a combined withdrawal from the two accounts, but she had never opened the backstage to look at even a single comment.

After nearly eight years, she opened the [Comments I’ve Received] in the backstage for the first time.

What could there be? Jian Xin had insisted that she come and take a look.

She set the comment range from [within a week] to [all time], and from the most recently completed book, she quickly browsed through the pages.

When she had abandoned this pen name, the serial in her hand had just been completed not long ago. It was the ending she had specially written in advance to be able to go and see Jian Xin’s concert with peace of mind.

At that time, she had promoted her next new book, but that new book had never been started.

In eight years, some people had sent flowers, some had sighed, some had urged her to start a new book, and some had asked where she had gone.

She didn’t know how long she had been scrolling, but the number of comments was increasing as the years decreased.

Finally, she scrolled to the comments from May of that year.

A non-real-name user named [Didn’t We Say We Would Be Together for a Lifetime] had sent a very, very long comment that she couldn’t even scroll to the bottom of after a few scrolls.

The account was a new account, and it had only subscribed to all of her works.

The comments of non-real-name users could not be seen on the front end, only in the author’s backstage.

It was clear that the Jian Xin of that year really couldn’t find a way to contact her, and she didn’t want to make a scene on a public platform, so she could only use this method to tell her some of the things she wanted to say in her heart.

This comment was really very, very long, and the person who had sent it really wished she could write down every single detail of their beginning to their separation.

At the end, she said that she had spent a lot of time thinking, analyzing, and reviewing why they had come to this point.

She couldn’t figure it out, and she wanted to ask Yan Lu to tell her in person.

This was not a long apology, but more of a questioning, a rational questioning of every bit of confusion in her heart.

When did it start that there was only suppression and restraint between them, so uncomfortable that when she thought of it in the dead of night, she would doubt if there was any meaning in continuing to persist?

She had thought for a long time, but she still felt that they shouldn’t have broken up so unclearly.

Yes, she had thought of breaking up countless times.

Because she always felt that no matter how hard she tried to get closer to Yan Lu, she would always be blocked by something invisible—thinking back carefully, she had never really understood Yan Lu.

What Yan Lu liked, she didn’t know.

What Yan Lu was suppressing, she also didn’t know.

What Yan Lu was thinking in her heart, she didn’t know at all.

She suddenly belatedly found that she couldn’t see a future at all in this relationship.

But she just couldn’t bear to.

Even though she had said the harshest words, she still couldn’t bear to.

So when she really lost her, she finally understood that the reason she was so angry in her heart was just because she had too much unwillingness.

Compared to what her friends had said, to end an unhealthy relationship, she wanted to understand what problems existed between them.

Compared to parting ways and being happy for each other, she wanted to solve all the problems between them, bit by bit, slowly!

Even if it was very difficult, even if it was very painful, she didn’t want to lose her just like that.

—We said we would be together for a lifetime, how can it end just like that?

—I know you don’t believe me anymore, but besides you, I will never like a second person in this lifetime.

—I will wait for you. You can come and find me whenever you’re no longer angry. I won’t change any of my platform accounts. I will always wait for you.

…

Yan Lu didn’t know how much time it took to finish reading this comment that had been unseen for eight years.

Her vision was blurred by tears again and again, and the back of her hand and her sleeves were all wet.

She sniffed, opened the comment sections of her other works, found a similar time, and scrolled forward.

In every old work, her once most familiar ID had appeared.

Her first reader, the reader she had long since lost.

After she had left, she had opened every one of her works, left her footprints in every chapter, and had also written a long comment for every story.

It was as if she felt that this way, she could please her as before, so sincere, and so clumsy.

But the self of that year, all she had thought of was to escape, and she had never allowed herself to look back even once.

So she had never seen it.

Yan Lu couldn’t help but wonder, if that year, she had come back to take a look, would everything have been different?

She thought for a long time, and just let out a bitter laugh.

—Probably not.

Because that year, Jian Xin was not wrong.

The one who had unilaterally avoided the problem, the one who didn’t have the courage to continue, the one who didn’t dare to believe that they still had a future…

It had always been just her.