The proprietress quickly apologized with a smile, saying there was only her husband cooking today, they couldn't keep up, she'd go rush him again...
Du Kang was about to slam down his chopsticks and look over there, but Ruoping stopped him:
"Just eat your food. Why are you competing with a bunch of kids?"
Du Kang exhaled in annoyance:
"That little punk can complain all he wants, but why does he have to drag us into it? Does he really think just because he's hanging around Gu Qiumian that no one dares say anything? If I were at school... forget it," he mumbled while gnawing on a spare rib, "we're all classmates anyway."
"Classmates?" Ruoping laughed coldly. "We might consider her a classmate, but she doesn't necessarily consider us classmates."
Zhang Shutong couldn't tell whether she was trying to diffuse the situation or stir things up.
"I think you played the good Samaritan for nothing, Shutong. Look at her—nothing's wrong, and she's still in the mood to go out for a meal."
Zhang Shutong roughly understood what she meant. Although Ruoping herself didn't greet Gu Qiumian when they met, he had helped Gu Qiumian out during the morning break on a whim, yet Gu Qiumian still acted this way, which irked Ruoping a bit.
Zhang Shutong wanted to say that his "good deed" didn't really have much to do with Gu Qiumian herself;
If anything, it was more about clearing obstacles from his future life. He still needed to find the killer, but that didn't stop him from going out for a meal;
But if he told them that, they'd ask what the obstacles were. He'd already heard enough about "a man's mission"—he really didn't want to hear about "a man's obstacles" as well. So he simply grabbed spare ribs for all three of them:
"Eat while it's hot. My treat today."
"Currying favor for no reason." That's what Ruoping said, but she was nibbling on the spare rib anyway.
"No need, same as always." Qingyi also refused.
"Bro, you should've said so earlier! If I'd known, I would've ordered two more dishes!" Du Kang had the least shame.
"Just consider it me asking for a chance." Zhang Shutong smiled. "Besides, you three each owe me a meal at KFC anyway."
His reason for suddenly wanting to treat them was simple—
For him, this should be the first time in eight years that the group had gathered to eat together, and during those eight years, he had been the first to lose contact. Although there were reasons, he had inevitably let down his best friends' feelings.
That was in their second year of high school, wasn't it? They had wanted to come to the provincial capital to visit him. By then, he had already stopped going out much, so he curtly refused. He'd forgotten exactly how he replied;
He only remembered that after that, it seemed everyone talked less. That group chat with the very chunibyo name went from chatting tirelessly until midnight every day to having no one speak up for half a month, eventually getting buried at the bottom of the message list;
One day, Zhang Shutong suddenly wanted to see what they had been talking about back then. With just four people in the small group, what interesting things could be worth chatting about for so long... But by then he'd changed phones, and the chat history had been lost.
Good thing they didn't listen to Qingyi's suggestion to call it the Dragon's Nest or take on weird titles, otherwise one day the corpses of four dragons would be buried underground along with their little nest, and remembering that name years later would be very sad.
Zhang Shutong kept picking up food with his chopsticks. He'd always been quiet, so the others couldn't tell his mood had changed. They ate very slowly, and by the end they were just idly prying at candy pieces on the plates;
Meanwhile, Gu Qiumian's table was still lively. Boys and girls laughing together, someone deliberately making a fool of themselves. The star of the table was still typing with one finger, occasionally looking up;
Zhang Shutong noticed the boys and girls behaved somewhat differently. The girls were genuinely looking for conversation topics, but the boys seemed to be deliberately trying to get her attention. Whoever direction Gu Qiumian glanced, that person would look a bit more pleased with themselves.
Being a trainer seemed like an energy-consuming job too.
Whatever Miss Gu and her lackeys were like, it was time for his side to wrap up.
Zhang Shutong told the others he was going to the restroom.
As he passed Gu Qiumian's table, she was raising her glass. There was still a little less than half of the yogurt left. The glass rim rose past her nose, level with her pretty eyes. Their gazes met unintentionally again for a moment, then Gu Qiumian indifferently lowered her eyes, only looking at the yogurt in her glass.
Mm, really not acquainted.
Zhang Shutong thought to himself.
Those were Gu Qiumian's own words—passed to her little secretary during morning reading. He didn't know if the little secretary fully grasped the spirit of it, but he had grasped it anyway.
At first, Zhang Shutong couldn't even find where the restroom door was and nearly wandered into a private room, so he ended up touring the whole restaurant;
Only then did he notice that the restaurant only had the proprietress working. The one cooking in the back kitchen was probably the owner. Normally, a restaurant of this size would be too much for a couple to handle alone, yet he didn't see any waitstaff;
Could only say business was too poor.
During the entire lunch period, they'd only served two tables. This restaurant was already considered famous on the street, yet even it couldn't escape this fate.
But on second thought, though they served few orders, they had quite a few customers.
Of course, that didn't include their table of four—Gu Qiumian alone spent as much as several tables combined, not to mention the private room had already been reserved.
Just now he'd noticed that even though lunch hour was nearly over, the people who reserved the private room still hadn't arrived.
Zhang Shutong pushed open the restroom door. The restroom was actually very close to the back kitchen. He remembered Du Kang mentioning before that originally the shops on this street didn't have restrooms—if you needed to go, you had to run to the public toilet on the street. That was fine for other businesses, but for restaurants not having a restroom was very inconvenient;
So the shop owners gradually made renovations. Like this fish restaurant—the back kitchen was rectangular, and they'd forcibly carved out a square from one corner of the rectangle to serve as a restroom.
So there was no distinction between men's and women's restrooms, and there wasn't even a proper wall—just a partition made of plywood. When things got busy, you could hear the sizzling sounds of stir-frying next door...
Anyway, Zhang Shutong didn't really want to recall that intense situation in detail. Like right now, for instance, he could even hear the proprietress going to the back kitchen to rush the food:
"Still not ready? That table's been asking!"
"Let them wait," replied a man with a thick, rough voice. The owner cursed, "Fucking unlucky. I said, how come there's only one table at lunch..."
"...You won't let them into the private room either, and you're deliberately dragging out making the dishes... doing anyone's business is still business..."
What does that mean?
Zhang Shutong was about to wash his hands but paused mid-motion.
There was inside story about the private room?
And the food service—he'd thought the proprietress was taking a bit more care of them because the four were regular customers.
Just then his QQ suddenly buzzed. Zhang Shutong quickly put his phone on silent and looked down. It was from Ruoping, asking what flavor bubble tea he wanted—she was going to buy some. Zhang Shutong casually replied pearl milk tea;
Then told her you three go browse around, I've got diarrhea, I'll settle the bill and come find you.
Ruoping said how could they really let him treat?
Zhang Shutong thought that before, I wanted to treat you because I simply wanted to, but now I can't let you come back—
He still wanted to eavesdrop a bit more. If Ruoping and them called for the bill, the proprietress would have to run out again.
So he sent a toothy grin emoji, saying he'd recoup it all when they went to KFC on the weekend;
Hearing this, Ruoping didn't stand on ceremony with him and let it go.
He was still worried it wasn't enough, so he sent Qingyi a message too. At times like this, Qingyi was most reliable—no need for extra explanations;
So Zhang Shutong told him you take those two and leave first, I've got something to deal with;
The other directly replied with an OK hand gesture and didn't ask more.
Having done all this, Zhang Shutong quietly pressed against the partition to listen.
The proprietress rambled on:
"Why are you making things hard for money..."
But the man said angrily:
"It's that bastard who's making things hard for my money!"
"...I sweet-talk you a bit and you really get full of yourself, huh? Listen, Old Mo, you can curse him out all you want, but you absolutely cannot get involved in that matter..."
"When did I get involved..."
"Good that you didn't. We're just common folk..."
What matter was that referring to?
Demolition compensation?
Zhang Shutong was just frowning when he heard someone outside the restroom shout loudly—
"Check please!"
"Coming, coming." The proprietress hurriedly replied and rushed out.
Zhang Shutong immediately pounded the sink, thinking how he feared something would happen and it happened. He'd convinced Ruoping but forgot about the other table;
Now he couldn't get more information. He exited the restroom and sighed.
Returning to the table, he found most of the fish strips left. He asked for a bag and packed them up. There was no such thing as the "Clean Plate Campaign" yet, and Zhang Shutong wasn't particularly frugal—he was taking them back purely for dinner.
At the front desk, the boy who'd shouted for the check only now ambled over. Turns out it was the boy who'd locked horns with Du Kang earlier. Must be a lower grade student, otherwise he wouldn't call Gu Qiumian "Gu-jie." He savored that form of address and found it rather amusing;
Speaking of which, hadn't their table's dishes not all been served yet? Why were they rushing to settle the bill? Then he saw the boy holding a thick stack of hundred-yuan bills, idly flipping them around. Could only explain it as the young miss having her own style.
That boy wasn't a quiet type either. He said to the proprietress with a grin that they'd settle their table's bill first, now that the money was in hand she could relax, hurry up and serve the food;
"Not at all, not at all, we really just can't keep up..." the proprietress explained.
On the surface, it looked like this group was making trouble, but the actual situation was reversed;
Zhang Shutong observed this but didn't know what to say, so he patiently waited for the proprietress to finish calculating the bill.
A glance showed this meal cost over a hundred.
Really not cheap. Wait, why was Nutri-Express still five yuan?
He was still thinking about the information he'd just overheard, already distracted, and that boy kept clamoring about why his bill wasn't calculated first, creating a racket beside him;
Zhang Shutong just wanted to leave quickly at this point. He unconsciously frowned, took out his phone, and asked offhandedly:
"Where's the payment code?"
"What code?" The proprietress was stunned.
The payment QR code—he'd wanted to rephrase that, looked up searching for the blue-green QR code, searched all around but couldn't find it. Then looked at his phone screen—it didn't even have Alipay installed, let alone any code or no code.
It was 2012 now.
Zhang Shutong wasn't sure if he'd brought enough cash.
It better be enough.
He went through every pocket he could turn out. A fifty-yuan bill made him breathe easier, then two tens and one twenty...
While searching for money, he was holding a plastic bag in one hand, not quite having enough hands;
By now the proprietress had also noticed something was wrong. She said with a forced smile don't rush, don't rush, take your time. That boy somehow also leaned over, very familiarly asking:
"Yo, you're a classmate of Gu-jie's, bro?"
Zhang Shutong absent-mindedly nodded.
Wait, the cash doesn't seem to be enough...
He even pulled out the coins from buying the breakfast wrap that morning.
Ninety-five, ninety-six... one hundred and one. It stopped at that number and wouldn't budge.
Come on, the first time treating people to a meal since the regression, and he hadn't brought enough money? That would be somewhat embarrassing.
Zhang Shutong bit the soft flesh inside his mouth.
"So how's your relationship with her?" the boy continued asking.
"So-so..." Zhang Shutong looked up at the proprietress. "Can you round it down?"
The proprietress's smile couldn't hold anymore either:
"Kid, you all ate one hundred and twenty-five yuan worth. Auntie can waive that five yuan for you, but this..."
Zhang Shutong prepared to very embarrassingly call someone.
Just then, that boy patted his shoulder:
"So you're not close then. No wonder I'd never heard of you before. I was going to ask you a favor—if she has any trouble in class, help her out more. But turns out one meal has you in such a bind. Ah, forget it, forget it. I'll pay for you. After all, you're Gu-jie's classmate. Get to know each other once, and we'll all be bros after this."
Saying so, he boldly pulled out a twenty-yuan bill and slapped it on the counter.
"No need." Zhang Shutong refused with a frown.
It wasn't about how much money, nor about losing face. He could tell whether the offer was genuine help or had ulterior motives. Worst case, he'd have Du Kang ride back to bring money:
He told the proprietress:
"I'll call a classmate, just wait a moment."
"I already said I'd pay for you and that's that. Why are you being stubborn, bro? You really don't need my help? Then I really won't interfere?"
Zhang Shutong was getting genuinely annoyed.
Why was this kid like a fighting rooster, yapping and yapping away, as if he absolutely had to claim some kind of victory over him? He was too lazy to acknowledge him, found Du Kang's number and dialed, waiting for the other end to pick up.
"Alright then, you make your call first. It's really not that Auntie wants to make things hard for you, kid. Small business, otherwise I'd really be taking a loss..."
"Don't worry about him, calculate ours first. Can't even scrape together twenty yuan and still dining out..."
Noise filled his ears. The boy was laughing, the proprietress was laughing too, but their smiles had different meanings. On the other end of the phone came a sweet female voice: Sorry, the user you have dialed is busy...
Zhang Shutong turned to find another place.
But a fair, delicate hand reached out from beside his shoulder. Its owner raised a finger, and several red bills fluttered lightly onto the front desk, making even the laughter pause for a moment.
"What twenty?"
A girl's flat voice sounded from behind him:
"His meal is on me."