They say large executive sedans are generally over five meters long—a useless piece of knowledge that suddenly surfaced in Zhang Shutong's mind.
From this, one could deduce that the main gate of the school called "Yingcai Junior High" would be no wider than six meters.
Before the gate that was less than six meters wide, a girl named Gu Qiumian got out of the car. Today she wore a very stylish light brown dress paired with gray leggings, though they couldn't hide the slender lines of her calves. Zhang Shutong didn't understand girls' fashion styles, but he inexplicably sensed a hint of vintage charm.
Like a fashionable girl strolling through city streets, though every corner was ancient, it was covered over by the bright vitality she radiated with every gesture; but this was a small island, so it should have awakened the morning's energy instead.
Then, the girl's small leather boots stood pertly on the ground. Gu Qiumian leaned halfway out of the car. The cold wind blew past, and she first tightened the wool coat on her body—a short style in khaki. The coat's collar snuggled against her face, reddened from the cold, making her entire person seem even more petite.
At this moment, the driver's window rolled down, and a man's voice drifted out:
"Be happy at school. If you run into that kind of thing again, tell me..."
Gu Qiumian didn't look at the car window, only stared at the school gate, nodding absentmindedly.
Then the man said again:
"Then Dad will be going, Mianmian..."
The girl's movements paused, her brows furrowed, and her delicate nose wrinkled along with them. "Aiya! I already told you not to call me that..."
When she spoke, she always liked to add interjections, but it didn't seem affected. Instead, when she was annoyed, it weakened her momentum somewhat, making her tone sound soft. Saying this, Gu Qiumian unconsciously turned her head and looked behind her, just in time to lock eyes with a male student pushing a bicycle.
"You!" The girl bit her pearly teeth.
"Morning," the male student greeted calmly.
After speaking, Zhang Shutong blinked.
Just now... did he hear something he shouldn't have?
She seemed like she wanted to say "how dare you eavesdrop on my conversation," but Zhang Shutong really had just happened to pass by.
To be honest, he didn't really mind hearing other people's nicknames. His own nickname was Tongtong, and Tongtong's days went on just fine. But presumably Mianmian herself minded this point very much, feeling that her day couldn't go on from this morning onward:
Sure enough, Gu Qiumian glared with those beautiful eyes of hers again, opened her mouth wanting to say something more, white breath already puffing out from between her lips. In the end, she just stamped her feet hard, shot a fierce glance at who knows who between the two males, one big and one small, and simply ignored them both;
She quickly turned her head, the ornament on her hair swaying along with it, and strode away in a huff. The small pleats on her skirt hem fluttered up, nearly half a beat behind her.
A rueful laugh came from inside the car window, and Zhang Shutong shrugged as well.
The Audi started up, spewing a trail of black exhaust into the clean morning air, seeming to herald that this brand new school life was full of gunpowder from early morning.
Zhang Shutong then pushed his bike through the school gate. While locking his bike, he pondered—actually, he hadn't heard the father and daughter's conversation clearly just now, so was it Mianmian or Miemie?
But this matter couldn't be brought up. If asked, it would be that Tongtong still wanted to live peaceful days... Suddenly disgusted by himself, Zhang Shutong vowed never to use reduplicated words again.
But whether it was Mian or Mie, both made one think of sheep. He took the liberty of guessing this was why Gu Qiumian liked to draw sheep.
Outside the teaching building, students on cleaning duty were sweeping. Large brooms tied with sorghum tassels might not be very suitable for cleaning, but they were perfect as weapons. Right now two boys were hacking away at each other—one using it as a broadsword, charging forward with battle cries;
The other tucked it under his armpit, rat-tat-tatting away. The guy opposite charged two steps, then clutched his heart and fell down, acting like it was real.
A broom has a different appearance in every boy's heart. Zhang Shutong watched with interest, originally wanting to share his own views, but looking at those two students on duty, he suddenly remembered that because he hadn't turned in his homework the day before yesterday, he had to cover next week's duty. His interest immediately vanished.
Speaking of homework, it seemed he hadn't done yesterday's either...
Oh no.
But thinking about it again, the four of them had performed meritorious service last night, so they were temporarily justified.
So he wouldn't make it up for now. Hopefully Old Song would understand.
The footsteps that were about to speed up slowed down again.
Going up the stairs, he could hear the sound of morning reading from the classroom in the hallway;
He walked into the classroom and saw a male student standing by his seat, with slightly dark skin. He seemed to be called... Zhou something? He only remembered this was Gu Qiumian's former deskmate.
Zhang Shutong thought to himself that these two really had a good relationship. No wonder he was the man... no, the boy who could tell Gu Qiumian was drawing sheep. To think he was reminiscing so early in the morning, making him feel too embarrassed to sit there.
Perhaps he'd deprived the guy of the welfare of being fed snacks;
Perhaps he'd separated the only kindred spirit who could appreciate Gu Qiumian;
Zhang Shutong felt his sins were grave and deep.
But he saw that though the boy had been talking for quite a while, he showed no intention of sitting down at all, just standing there supporting himself on his desk edge, mumbling who knows what.
Zhang Shutong changed angles for a look, and for a moment wanted to laugh—
Turned out it wasn't that he didn't want to sit, but that he couldn't sit.
Gu Qiumian had thrown her school bag onto her own seat, like a natural trench, separating the two of them far apart.
That boy could only pretend he didn't see it and continue chatting there.
Zhang Shutong didn't mind them. Looking further forward, Lu Qinglian was already sitting properly in her seat. She always arrived earlier than everyone else. Every day she had to walk a mountain path to school, and her home was far from school too, so presumably she had to get up very early.
Six o'clock—would that be enough? Speaking of which, how did she eat on the mountain? Did she cook for herself, or buy food on the way to school?
A series of questions popped up. He thought about it and felt none of these were right—it should be another pattern—
Lu Qinglian still had a grandmother, right? The old lady only had one precious granddaughter, so she must dote on her incredibly. Whether from TV dramas, manga, or other works, such mutually dependent grandparents and grandchildren were very common;
He guessed it must be her grandmother who woke up early to make food, then waited for Lu Qinglian to get up and eat. In the misty morning, the old grandmother and the young girl sat under the temple's eaves, watching the moisture soaking the blue tiles while holding bowls and sipping porridge in small mouthfuls... It was a very heartwarming scene.
Thinking that Lu Qinglian would also have a side full of mortal warmth at the temple, even Zhang Shutong smiled, feeling that was quite nice;
Looking at the girl herself, right now she sat there quietly, wearing an ordinary school uniform jacket. A high ponytail hung down her back, yet it couldn't hide her ethereal temperament. She held a textbook in her hands, standing it in front of her face, her lips slightly moving, as if nothing from last night had happened;
It was like saying: Although I magnificently dealt with an armed criminal yesterday, it doesn't prevent me from studying hard this morning... He felt she radiated this kind of aura. Zhang Shutong felt inferior, thinking even a magical girl couldn't compare.
After scanning several people, he wasn't in a hurry to return. Right now there were other things to do. He went to the bookshelf to flip through his materials, but still couldn't find Lu Qinglian's history notes;
He inexplicably felt somewhat guilty. The person loved studying so much, yet he'd lost her notes. How terrible was that.
When he returned to his seat, he was just about to remind the boy to move aside—if you're going to hit on Miss Gu, could you pick another time?—when the conversation between the two drifted into his ears:
"I just wanted to tell you..."
"You shouldn't take it lightly..."
"I really saw it at the time..."
The boy lowered his voice, but Gu Qiumian didn't listen at all. At first she was organizing her school bag, occasionally making a perfunctory "mm" sound, then later she took out her textbook and started morning reading, losing even the remaining motions.
Finally, she simply put down her textbook, frowned, and said directly:
"Are you finished?"
"I..."
"I need to study."
This time she didn't add any interjections either. Each sentence was spoken cleanly and decisively, like a small, sharp silver knife cutting straight into a block of butter.
The butter then awkwardly walked away, not even as good as Du Kang—at least Du Kang knew to struggle a bit.
Seeing this, Zhang Shutong thought the days ahead would certainly be very peaceful. Both his deskmate and the girl diagonally in front were girls who didn't like to talk. Nothing was better than not liking to talk;
He watched the boy leave, pulled out his chair, and knowing Miss Gu was in a bad mood, didn't even prepare to greet her. Just as he was about to sit down, he saw Gu Qiumian, who had just said "need to study," suddenly put down the textbook in front of her and glared at Zhang Shutong yet again.
Zhang Shutong was somewhat puzzled, thinking why aren't you glaring at that Zhou whoever, why glare at me?
Could it be because of the nickname thing? It seemed this matter had really hurt Mianmian enough.
Zhang Shutong couldn't fathom her thoughts, but it couldn't hurt to say hello:
"Morn—"
Zhang Shutong had just opened his mouth when Gu Qiumian interrupted. At this moment, that small silver knife became scissors, snipping away:
"Not morning at all! Why are you so slow!"
"Slow?"
"Didn't I already see you at the school gate just now?"
The girl unhappily picked up her school bag, making room for him, demanding answers like an interrogation:
"If you'd come over earlier, I wouldn't have had to listen to him ramble on!"