He didn't know if this counted as some kind of disappearance. Although the timing didn't match up, he still asked the homeroom teacher about it.
Old Song had no mood for conversation either. He sat alone in the office with a sullen expression, only saying that he'd seen her go to the library with a bunch of friends.
Zhang Shutong thought about it and understood. If that abandoned drainage pipe was the secret base for their close-knit group, then the library held similar significance for Gu Qiumian—after all, it was built by her family.
In the two-story building, the art classroom on the upper floor had been vacant for a long time. That space served as the gathering spot for Gu Qiumian and her underlings.
Sometimes after finishing lunch and returning to the classroom, he could see Gu Qiumian coming down from upstairs. She'd tuck her hair behind her ear, followed by a large entourage, marching grandly across campus.
Zhang Shutong was still puzzling over the incident during the morning assembly. There were still no leads, but what struck him as particularly strange was Gu Qiumian's attitude. After all, she was the one who'd gotten red-eyed over the scarf and gotten into that huge fight with him. Yet she was also the one who seemed completely indifferent when her castle of building blocks was smashed to pieces.
It was hard to tell which was the real Gu Qiumian. Perhaps both were.
Zhang Shutong still wasn't certain how to classify this incident. Was it a continuation of the scarf incident? If so, that would actually be better. Though it sounded a bit cold-blooded to say it, if it wasn't connected to a murder case, that meant he could pay less attention to it.
But if Gu Qiumian's death was truly due to revenge from some student...
Zhang Shutong pinched the bridge of his nose.
No, that wasn't right either.
That would be far too absurd.
Just then, Ruoping and the others ran over, calling him out to lunch. Their school was too small—or to use a more official explanation, to increase employment opportunities for island residents—so they simply let students go out to eat, which also helped support the surrounding restaurants' businesses.
There was no need to worry about food safety issues. Even the roadside stalls—on the island, people ran into each other constantly. Even if they didn't know each other directly, mentioning someone's name would give them a general impression. If anyone threw away their conscience for a bit of money, they'd have fingers pointing at their backs for the rest of their lives.
Ruoping called for everyone to go have a celebration feast. The four of them prepared to go out to a restaurant together because of last night's events. They'd originally wanted to invite Lu Qinglian along, but when they turned around, the girl had long since vanished, having drifted off somewhere.
Zhang Shutong was lost in thought, so his movements were inevitably a bit sluggish. Then he saw Ruoping glare at him and say he was still thinking about that desk-mate of his, not even eating anymore—why didn't he go find her and ask if the young miss would provide his lunch? She looked ready to sever all ties with him.
Zhang Shutong was pulled to his feet by her, somewhat helplessly. But thinking it over, he had to eat anyway, and since there were no leads right now, he might as well go out for a walk.
As they walked, Du Kang took the initiative to discuss Zhou Ziheng's matter, half curious about the other's guilty conscience, half thinking the guy was too shady.
After listening for a while, Ruoping laughed:
"Can't you guys tell that Zhou Ziheng likes Gu Qiumian? I think his reason for not wanting to tell Shutong was pretty simple—wasn't he just jealous?"
Every girl was a master when it came to matters of the heart:
"Think about it—put yourself in his shoes. You discover the girl you like is in danger, so you rush over anxiously to tell her, but she completely ignores you. Then after a while, her desk-mate comes over asking questions. Oh, and Zhou Ziheng is her old desk-mate too, which makes the contrast even stronger. If you were him, that's what you'd be thinking, so of course you wouldn't be willing."
Zhang Shutong had never understood Zhou Ziheng's attitude, but this explanation suddenly made many things click into place. He nodded in sudden realization:
"If that's the case, then this is much easier..."
"What do you mean?" Ruoping asked curiously. "You know who did it now?"
"No idea."
"Then what are you bragging about?"
"I've just ruled out Zhou Ziheng. That narrows down the scope."
"Shouldn't ruling him out leave you with even fewer leads?"
Ruoping was half-skeptical, so she simply asked Qingyi:
"What about you, Qingyi?"
"I really don't this time. But there's one suspicious point—is the toilet stall partition really related to this? Why would someone taking revenge write their name on the partition? Are they afraid of not exposing themselves?"
"So Shutong, hurry up and tell us who the culprit is!"
"I can't figure out what Qingyi just mentioned either." Zhang Shutong spread his hands. "So right now I really can't confirm who it is. I only have a general line of thinking, and it's very rough. At the earliest, it'll be tomorrow."
Ruoping pouted and stopped paying attention to him.
The group continued discussing where to eat. Their destination was the island's only commercial street, located in the central area.
The reason it was called a commercial street was that as a celebration feast, going to eat rice bowls at the school gate really lacked any sense of occasion.
But the island didn't have KFC or McDonald's—those holy sites for young people's gatherings—so they settled for second best and went to browse the island's most prosperous area.
But even this "prosperity" needed quotation marks. It was just a long street full of shops—there were supermarkets, bubble tea shops, and various restaurants, as well as book rental stores and two-yuan shops selling knickknacks.
They say a sparrow may be small but has all its vital organs—there was even fried chicken and burgers. Zhang Shutong remembered it was called "Kentucky Fried Chicken" or something? Not bad, quite creative actually.
It was only about ten minutes by bike from school to the commercial street. Returning to this place, Zhang Shutong felt somewhat nostalgic.
The entire road was about ten meters wide, roughly equal to four lanes. On both sides were storefronts of varying heights, though the tallest were only two stories—typically with people living on the upper floor and shops operating below.
Other students also rode bikes here to browse, mostly girls. Some came to eat, others to buy hair ties, clips, and other accessories. Ruoping's bag was full of such things.
But even with the students and passing pedestrians, there still weren't many people on the entire street, and it was poorly maintained. Dark gray snow was still piled on both sides of the curb. Every few steps, you could see snack wrappers thrown on the ground. When the cold wind blew, the plastic on the straws would tumble along—quite a desolate scene.
When Zhang Shutong attended the funeral eight years later, he'd passed by on the only bus route. He'd thought the commercial street would be long gone by then, but unexpectedly it was still there. Comparing it to now, eight years made surprisingly little difference.
"Still the same old place."
Unlike Ruoping and the others who kept their heads down riding straight to the restaurant, he looked around every few steps.
"Then take a good look."
Unexpectedly, Ruoping also stopped her bike and looked around in all directions, as if trying to memorize the appearance of the surroundings. She said with emotion:
"It won't be here much longer anyway. After that, who knows where the four of us will go to eat... But by then we'll be going to high school in the city, probably eating on a real commercial street."
"Perfect! I've been wanting to try Pizza Hut for ages. I heard they just opened one in the city." Du Kang came over. "We haven't had proper Western food yet—pizza, steak, the three-piece set... what's the other one again?"
Zhang Shutong wanted to tell him that Pizza Hut wasn't really proper Western food, but seeing how excited they all suddenly were, he felt the process itself was beautiful—gradually discovering the world beyond the small island.
Like a child walking along the beach, treating every shell they found as treasure... But that wasn't the issue here. Zhang Shutong was more concerned about what Ruoping had said:
"What do you mean 'won't be here much longer'?"
It was clearly still there eight years later. He didn't know if that "Kentucky Fried Chicken" place had opened any franchises elsewhere.
"You've got some nerve calling yourself an island kid." Ruoping looked at him disdainfully. "You really are a city boy with no common sense."
What was with this inexplicable regional discrimination?
Ruoping cracked a joke, in good spirits:
"Even though we're about to graduate, Shutong, you really should pay attention to island affairs. If you don't know, go ask that desk-mate of yours. This actually has something to do with her."
"What does it have to do with Gu Qiumian?"
"More accurately, it has to do with her dad." Du Kang interjected. "Look over there first—"
Zhang Shutong followed the direction he was pointing and saw a three-story tall building appear in his line of sight—on the small island, three stories really did count as a tall building:
"Isn't that the Beiyi Shopping Center?"
Zhang Shutong knew it was the largest building on the island, a department store. It was actually similar to a large supermarket, nowhere near a real commercial plaza. The first floor seemed to be a supermarket, the second floor sold clothes, and the third floor was miscellaneous—home appliances, sports equipment, toys... all sorts of random stuff.
The entire shopping center's footprint wasn't that large. He called it a shopping center out of old habit, but looking at it with current eyes, it was really just a medium-to-large supermarket.
"Don't tell me you didn't know Gu Qiumian's dad built that?" Ruoping said in surprise.
Now that she mentioned it, Zhang Shutong did remember. When the shopping center opened, his parents had received a stored-value card and had gone in to stock up big time.
"So what does this have to do with the commercial street disappearing..." Zhang Shutong realized mid-sentence. "Really? How come I never heard about this before?"
"You were too busy thinking about fish."
Ruoping slowed down a bit to ride alongside him, deciding to explain the whole story:
"If it were close to this street it would be fine—it could bring some foot traffic. But now it's too far away, the shopping center has sucked away all the people. This street has basically everything the shopping center has, but the shopping center has more variety, and sometimes they have sales with even lower prices. How can this place compete? My mom likes to go browse there now, always rushing to grab eggs on sale. Oh, Du Kang has the most to say about that."
Du Kang picked up the thread, looking traumatized:
"Tell me about it. My dad told me we're lucky our restaurant is far from here, not anywhere near it, otherwise business would be really tough. I've also heard what Ruoping mentioned earlier. It seems like... Gu Qiumian's dad originally had his eye on this commercial street area to build the shopping center. The demolition was almost all negotiated, but some people jacked up their prices. Anyway, it fell through in the end.
"Then Gu Qiumian's dad was pretty tough about it—he just chose a different location and built the shopping center, forcibly squeezing this place out of business. I heard they've been negotiating demolition again recently, but I don't know the details..."
"No wonder..." Zhang Shutong said thoughtfully.
"No wonder what?"
"No wonder Gu Qiumian has so many snacks in her bag—her family owns a supermarket." As soon as these words left his mouth, Ruoping immediately rolled her eyes at him.
Actually, he'd been thinking: no wonder the commercial street was still there eight years later. Gu Qiumian would die in a few days, so the demolition Du Kang mentioned probably never happened.
Chatting away, the group arrived at the restaurant. It served local specialties and was called "Hometown Lake Fish Restaurant"—already the largest establishment on this street, complete with private rooms.
Delicious, affordable, and generous portions—if they were limiting their gathering venue to just the island, this fish restaurant was their first choice.
They were all regular customers. Upon entering, they first saw a plump woman. Ruoping's sweet words—calling her "Auntie" repeatedly—made the proprietress smile until the wrinkles bunched up on her face.
The shop's appearance was very retro—
Cases of beer and a beverage cooler sat by the entrance; the white walls had been coated with a faint layer of grease and smoke; the wooden tables and chairs had developed a patina, with the tables covered by floral cloth topped with tempered glass. It truly matched the desolate scene on the street. The dining hall was spacious and empty—they were the first table of customers.
Du Kang went straight to the front desk to grab a menu. The menu was laminated, no telling how long it had been used—the surface was sticky. The group sat down, four heads huddling together to study what to eat.
Du Kang came from a culinary family and really wanted to show off his expertise in cooking. He started rattling off which dishes had the best standards, but got smacked on the head by Ruoping before quieting down. Finally, dissatisfied, he ordered a stir-fried shrimp.
Ruoping loved sweets, so she ordered candied sweet potato. Qingyi's tastes were always consistent—when coming here, he only ate shredded blackfish.
Finally, the three turned their gazes to Zhang Shutong. He really couldn't think of what to eat and wanted to say "whatever," but Ruoping hated "whatever" most. So after thinking for a long time, he suggested ordering shredded potatoes with vinegar and chili?
That earned him a smack from Ruoping, who said to have some ambition—they were here for a gathering, a gathering, understand? So he had to change it to braised pork ribs, a dish all three of them should like.
While waiting for the food, Du Kang clamored that they really should drink some "white stuff" today. Qingyi hesitated, saying they had afternoon classes—wasn't that a bit too much? At that moment, Ruoping acted like a warrior woman, slapping the table and saying what are we afraid of, I'll take responsibility for anything—Auntie, bring four bottles first, we'll add more if it's not enough—
So the proprietress brought over four bottles of Nutri-Express.
The group was quite ceremonious about it. They couldn't just drink straight from the bottles—it had to be poured into glasses. Du Kang was best at this kind of occasion, rattling off a toast: roughly congratulating Comrades Qingyi, Ruoping, and Shutong for their meritorious bandit suppression last night, and on behalf of all island residents, he expressed his gratitude.
Zhang Shutong was laughing while thinking what kind of nonsense was this, but by then the other three had already stood up waiting for him. So Zhang Shutong stood up too, and four glasses clinked together as smiles blossomed simultaneously on the faces of the young men and women:
"Cheers!"
The crisp sound of glass rang out. Before the four heroes could drain their Nutri-Express in one go, a male student suddenly pushed open the shop door—really killing the mood.
Du Kang looked over very unhappily, as if to say: Kid, take a good look at who we four are. Didn't we just meet at the flag platform during morning assembly?
The male student wasn't intimidated at all. Instead, he provocatively raised his eyebrows and called into the shop:
"Boss, got any seats?"
The proprietress quickly smiled and said of course we do, how many of you are there? Come in and sit anywhere, I even have private rooms.
But the male student dismissed this, saying we have a lot of people. He jerked his chin toward the four of them, as if they were very much in the way—you sure your shop is big enough?
Du Kang heard this and laughed in exasperation, saying look how cocky this guy is, how many could there be? Does he want to rent out the whole place? Just wait, I'll count them.
Then the male student jogged back out. Through the shop door, they could hear him say there's only one table inside, all students, not too much of a problem—should we just eat here?
After a moment, he ran back, but didn't enter directly. Instead, he held the door open waiting, as if there really were an incredible number of people.
Du Kang started counting with a curled lip: one, two, three, four... all the way to thirteen, his eyes getting wider as he counted:
"Wait, there really are this many?" His lips were ringed with a white milk mustache, looking a bit dumbfounded. "Is this students eating lunch or a gang gathering?"
But that wasn't all. The students who'd entered the shop didn't rush to sit down. Instead, they all looked behind them and automatically parted to form a path. Zhang Shutong also turned to look at that welcoming boulevard, suddenly having a certain premonition.
Then his premonition came true.
At the fish restaurant's entrance, the male student standing by the door gave them a very disdainful smile.
Then the ringleader of this gang—or rather, a small boot—stepped inside first—