"It's just a possibility, and it's the worst possibility at that." Zhang Shutong glanced at him as he spoke.
Veins suddenly bulged on Old Song's face:
"Fuck, then what are we waiting for? Why aren't we leaving right now? It's just Qiumian and her nanny at home right now, who the hell knows what those bastards might do!"
"The police will go there."
"You believe what those people say? They said on the phone they'd patrol tonight, but who the fuck knows when 'tonight' means to them. By the time they get there, it'll be too damn late..."
"I mean, I've already called the police."
Zhang Shutong suddenly said.
Song Nanshan froze, his hand already gripping the steering wheel dropping back down.
"What did you say, kid?" He suspected he was hearing things.
"I said, Teacher, I've already called the police." Zhang Shutong glanced at his phone again, saying lightly, "And they've already arrived."
Song Nanshan opened and closed his mouth dumbly, countless questions flashing through his mind.
You figured it out early on?
Then why didn't you say anything?
And when the hell did you call the police?
There were so many questions that he'd lost the ability to think normally. With his emotions rising and falling drastically, he could only ask instinctively in a dazed voice:
"When did you figure it out?"
"Just thought of it."
"Then how did you call the police..."
"Let's drive first."
At his reminder, Song Nanshan finally remembered to press the clutch. The little car almost stalled, lurching forward once before finally proceeding smoothly.
Zhang Shutong fastened his seatbelt, adjusted the air conditioning, then slowly began to answer Song Nanshan's questions:
"They made two preparations, that's true, but I also made three preparations in advance.
"The first was to bring you, Teacher, to Commercial Street to find the van. After all, I didn't initially think that was a diversion."
"But if you didn't think of it, how did you call the police?" Old Song was completely confused.
"That's the second preparation. Since they poisoned the dog, even if it wasn't discovered tonight, it would definitely be discovered tomorrow morning. So I couldn't rule out the possibility that they'd make their move tonight. I didn't dare gamble on those odds."
"Well done!"
Song Nanshan excitedly pounded the steering wheel, finally able to breathe a sigh of relief. He didn't ask why he'd been kept in the dark, and eagerly pressed: "What about the third preparation?"
But Zhang Shutong acted as if he hadn't heard the question. He just turned his face to look at the scenery rapidly retreating outside the window, saying nothing.
A few hours ago, the girl sitting here had been just as silent. Now it was Zhang Shutong's turn.
But since Zhang Shutong didn't speak, Song Nanshan wasn't in the mood to ask anymore. He just wanted to hurry back to Gu Qiumian's house. Whether the police had come or not, he needed to see for himself to feel at ease.
They raced along, faster than on the way there.
When the car finally drove onto the road in front of the villa, they could already see the blue and red police lights.
Song Nanshan slammed the car door shut and rushed out, only to discover that all three remaining police officers on the island had come.
Looking from afar, it seemed quite lively. Song Nanshan didn't know whether to be angry or relieved. He blinked hard, suspecting the cold had made him hallucinate. Only then did he think to ask Zhang Shutong: "Wait, didn't they say there was no manpower? How did you get them all to come?"
"The day before yesterday I caught two poachers and got the chief's phone number."
Zhang Shutong waved his phone: "I told him someone was going to burn down Gu Qiumian's house, so I guess he took my words seriously."
The chief he mentioned was none other than Officer Xiong with the thick accent.
But having built up enough goodwill, getting the other party to take him seriously wasn't that simple.
Special times call for special measures, so Zhang Shutong simply chose to file a false report.
Unlike Song Nanshan, who had merely recounted the facts once, he directly told Officer Xiong that someone was carrying gasoline to burn down the Gu family's villa.
The reason the police immediately believed him was that after he returned home, on the first day after school, he'd gone to the police station and had already obliquely mentioned it.
But at the time they thought he and his friends were just fishing and using misdirection, so they didn't believe him.
But later, the "electric fishers" Du Kang had mentioned were actually caught.
So his credibility skyrocketed.
Regardless of the final outcome, Zhang Shutong chose to use this rare credibility here.
"When did you call the police? The timing doesn't add up either?" Old Song asked again.
"Before we left the villa."
Zhang Shutong showed him the QQ chat log: "Of course, to be precise, I didn't call the police—Du Kang helped call them."
"No wonder I kept seeing you glancing at your phone. I thought you were worried about running out of time."
Song Nanshan suddenly understood, then felt relieved, grinning as he patted Zhang Shutong's shoulder:
"All right, you really did calculate everything, though your excuse was pretty weak. When the police came and saw no gasoline, wouldn't they think you were playing them? But when the time comes, just say I told you to say that. I'll take responsibility."
But Zhang Shutong frowned without speaking.
Because...
He really did smell a faint odor of gasoline.
On the other side, the police across from them saw the car and jogged over through the rain.
"Are you Teacher Song Nanshan?"
"That's right, the one who reported to you before. But this time it's all thanks to this good student of mine."
Song Nanshan smiled and pushed Zhang Shutong's shoulder.
But the police officer looked apologetic and saluted Old Song: "Teacher Song, I'm sorry. When you called the station before, we didn't take it seriously enough and nearly caused a disaster..."
"It's fine, it's fine. At least you came in the end."
Old Song was quite magnanimous: "But from what you're saying, comrade, you actually caught them?"
"Five criminals have been subdued." The police officer's face also broke into a smile.
Old Song quickly went up to shake hands, saying everyone had worked hard, and couldn't help but curiously and fearfully ask—so what were those five bastards actually here to do?
Who knew the officer would look at them strangely and say, of course to splash gasoline, wasn't that what your student told us when he reported?
Old Song quickly said kids don't know any better, don't hold it against them, it was just to get your attention, but before he finished speaking, he suddenly realized: "Wait, they really came to splash gasoline?"
The officer nodded even more strangely.
By then Zhang Shutong had already run over to the police car. He'd already asked the other two officers what he wanted to know, and didn't know whether to feel relieved or speechless—
The false report had become true.
The whole process wasn't dangerous at all, because both sides arrived at almost the same time. They'd just stopped the car, and those five murderers hadn't had a chance to act before they were subdued by the arriving police.
More details were also confirmed: These five people were indeed merchants from Commercial Street.
He sighed about how dangerous human hearts were. He wasn't planning to ask detailed questions tonight—it was really too cold. Zhang Shutong felt that if he got any more soaked, he'd have a fever tomorrow.
He was just about to discuss with Old Song when the villa's front door suddenly opened.
In the darkness, Zhang Shutong saw a pair of lively and beautiful eyes.
Though now they were filled with anxiety.
Gu Qiumian rushed out holding an umbrella.
Zhang Shutong suddenly thought that perhaps Old Song wasn't wrong—this girl really wasn't that smart. On such a cold day, with rain on the ground, she'd run out wearing only slippers.
The rest didn't need to be said.
Because this should have been a script where he dusted off his clothes and left.
Zhang Shutong had made three preparations. The only thing he hadn't guarded against was that Miss Gu would refuse to let them leave.
Gu Qiumian strongly insisted that Zhang Shutong and Old Song stay the night. First take a hot shower, then take cold medicine, and finally immediately burrow into the blankets and sleep.
Three people voted. Gu Qiumian cast a vote in favor, as did Song Nanshan. Without even consulting Zhang Shutong's opinion, he was forcibly pulled into the villa by Old Song.
"If you don't want to stay, you have to consider your teacher. At my age, getting completely soaked and dragging you home—do I want to live or not? Hurry up and dry off, don't let Qiumian's kindness go to waste..."
The nanny had already prepared two towels.
He vigorously dried his hair. Without a mirror nearby, it probably looked like a bird's nest. The room had heating on. He took off his coat and changed into a guest bathrobe, his feet slapping in slippers—quite the image of a big boss.
Gu Qiumian had gone to bathe. She'd just been frozen outside for a while. The four-story villa had her bedroom on the second floor with an independent bathroom, so she was temporarily out of sight.
Zhang Shutong and Old Song were on the first floor. They didn't immediately go bathe, as masculine reserve told them... stripping off their clothes right after entering someone's home seemed improper.
The two men prepared to tough it out a bit longer.
Learning they hadn't eaten, the nanny went to prepare some late-night snacks.
Zhang Shutong paced alone to the villa's balcony.
—He wasn't even sure if this counted as a balcony. A massive floor-to-ceiling window, below which was a wooden platform connecting both sides, with several cushions on it, a small tea table, and even a lounge chair. But despite all the furniture, the platform was still spacious and empty.
Light strips were buried beneath the platform, emitting a warm glow that reflected on the marble floor.
Zhang Shutong walked onto the platform and approached the floor-to-ceiling window, which faced directly toward the villa's backyard. Rainwater rushed magnificently down the glass, reflecting the brilliant indoor lights.
Nothing could be seen clearly outside anymore.
There was also a small door beside the floor-to-ceiling window, allowing access to the backyard.
Zhang Shutong opened the door and instinctively looked up, discovering that along the floor-to-ceiling window on the artificial lawn, there was also a corridor. In better weather, it would be suitable for reading a good book.
So he quietly stayed in the corridor for a while.
Before him was a pitch-black space where he couldn't see his hand in front of his face. Behind him was the warm interior. The nanny seemed to be boiling noodles—he could hear the gurgling sound of boiling water through the rain.
He started feeling cold again. He pressed his other arm, feeling the muscles trembling uncontrollably. Zhang Shutong just held his phone, silently standing in the darkness before him.
At this moment, Song Nanshan's voice came from behind: "What are you doing out here acting all brooding, kid? Go take a shower already."
He turned around. Old Song was also wearing a bathrobe, with only the very bottom of his fuzzy calves showing.
He held a mug, seemingly having made himself coffee, taking a sip as he spoke, looking utterly leisurely.
"Want to wait a bit longer."
"Long night, no mood for sleep, eh." Old Song came out with a literary line, even translating it into English himself, like he was reciting Shakespeare.
"Having second thoughts?" He patted Zhang Shutong's shoulder.
"Not really."
"Have to admit you've got a talent for looking cool. You did well tonight." Old Song took another sip of coffee and stood shoulder to shoulder with him in the corridor. The two watched the fine rain before them. After a long while he said, "But as your teacher, I still have something to say to you."
Zhang Shutong nodded to show he was listening.
But Old Song suddenly became somewhat solemn: "Although your brain works better than your teacher's, you can calculate every situation, making all sorts of plans and preparations—two preparations or three, whatever it was—better than me by far. Your teacher is very proud of you, but Shutong..."
Zhang Shutong suddenly remembered that on the day of regression, he'd taught a test-taking technique in class: if someone adds a "but," what follows is what they really want to say.
"I can understand that deduction and solving cases are thrilling and exciting, but have you heard this saying: 'Too clever by half.' I'm not saying you'll definitely suffer for it later, but rather, you can't let being smart leave you with nothing but calculations."
Old Song scratched his head with some difficulty: "How to put it... we're all living, breathing people. We can't become machines that only calculate. If you calculate away that little bit of human warmth... you're smart, you should understand what I mean."
Before Zhang Shutong could speak, Song Nanshan patted his shoulder to stop him. The man's voice became somewhat low:
"Although everything turned out fine in the end and was resolved smoothly, much better than your teacher just driving around randomly, I still have to say—it was too risky.
"Why did you have to leave Qiumian at home? I know your reasoning was proper, wanting to catch the criminals in one fell swoop. You even calculated that the murderers would come tonight and called the police in advance without even telling me, but..."
His phone suddenly rang before he could finish.
He held his phone, as if not hearing it, and only said to Song Nanshan: "I'm sorry."
Old Song was stunned: "I'm not scolding you. What's the point of apologizing to me? You should tell Qiumian later. She'll be down soon. All right, answer your phone first..."
Saying this, the man sneezed enormously, no longer looking resolute, hunching his shoulders as he walked away.
Zhang Shutong watched him leave, then closed the door to the floor-to-ceiling window.
Then pressed the answer button.
It was a call he'd been waiting for all along.
A young man's voice came through the phone:
"Sorry, sorry, I was just reading and put my phone on silent so I wouldn't be disturbed."
"That book, The Decagon House Murders?" Zhang Shutong was in the mood to chat with him.
"Yeah, I just finished it in one sitting. Let me tell you, the biggest trick was brilliant, it's that the male..."
"Stop, stop." Zhang Shutong pinched the bridge of his nose. "Did you find out?"
"Yeah, I searched for photos from back then. It's not it."
"Sure?"
"Positive. Gu Qiumian's dad's car was an A8L. The car in the accident that killed someone was a Passat. They both look like black sedans, but there's actually a huge difference—you could buy several of those for the price of one."
"Mm, I only found two photos of the scene at the time, and one didn't even show the car. But I don't know cars, so I specifically asked you."
"Of course, I had a hell of a time finding it. I specifically climbed over the wall to search, then spent forever comparing before confirming." Qingyi sounded like he was holding a pen in his mouth as he asked in confusion: "But why are you looking into this? An accident from '07 is pretty old, and it happened near the amusement park in the city. A car drunk driving at night, let me see... oh, hit and killed a woman."
"Ruling some things out."
Zhang Shutong thought for a moment and said.
"What things?"
"Mm, I was originally going to share with you, but who told you to read your messages so late."
"Ah, I never thought I'd be the one getting left hanging. Sounds like you had a pretty eventful night, Shutong." Qingyi said enviously.
"More like terrifying." Zhang Shutong shrugged.
It was just a thought that had suddenly occurred to him after seeing that poisoned dog.
In his previous life, before that murder case occurred, after Gu's father left the island—
A teacher named Song Nanshan had been entrusted with a task: to look after a girl in his class.
He was enthusiastic, responsible, and cared about his students.
But he knew nothing about what happened to the girl that weekend.
He didn't even report it to the police on Monday.
Zhang Shutong wasn't clear about what exactly happened during that time period in the past.
But just as he was about to use the salami-slicing tactic to eliminate Friday night—
His reasoning being that if something happened to Gu Qiumian on Friday night, then no matter how rough Song Nanshan's personality was, he wouldn't have gone an entire weekend without making a single phone call.
He suddenly realized a problem.
Why would it have to be a phone call?
Or rather, why assume his position?
The teacher named Song Nanshan's girlfriend had died in a car accident.
Zhang Shutong had searched for photos from the time of the incident in the car.
The vehicle at the scene was a black sedan, very similar to the one he'd seen that morning dropping off Gu Qiumian.
So dozens of minutes ago, he'd sent the photos to his best friend, asking him to compare them.
More than ten minutes ago, he'd considered whether the person who poisoned the dog and the murderer were the same person.
A few minutes ago, he'd been asked why he was almost obsessively insisting on keeping Gu Qiumian at home.
And not long ago, when asked what the "third preparation" was, he'd chosen to remain silent.
He'd even wondered why he'd asked Du Kang to call the police but never revealed it to the man in the driver's seat.
Zhang Shutong's heart had never struggled for so long.
But now these doubts could perhaps be resolved—
He'd said the murderers had made two preparations to make them let their guard down.
And Zhang Shutong himself, though he'd had no leads on many questions at first, had similarly made three preparations in advance.
The first was to go to Commercial Street.
The second was to call the police.
And that so-called third preparation—
Was to leave Gu Qiumian at the villa, completely separating her from the man.
This was the third preparation Zhang Shutong had made for that worst possibility in his heart.
Though it ended up not being needed, and the facts proved he'd overthought it, that didn't stop Zhang Shutong from smiling as he said to Qingyi:
"Actually, I have to blame you for this."
"How so?"
"If you'd seen my messages earlier, I wouldn't have had to go through all this trouble."
"Men are occasionally late." Qingyi said lazily.
"Oh, and it made me wrongly suspect a good person."
"Who?"
"Classified."
Though he said this aloud, Zhang Shutong spoke that person's name in his heart.
—It was the teacher he'd respected most throughout his entire student life.
So when the two stood talking in the corridor, the other person had gotten something else wrong.
That "I'm sorry" just now was never meant for Gu Qiumian.
It was specifically said for him to hear.
Only Old Song would probably never understand what it meant.
Zhang Shutong watched the night scene before him for a while longer.
At this moment, Qingyi reminded him over the phone:
"Don't forget to gather tomorrow morning. We need to prepare for the birthday party. Don't be late. By the way, I heard from Du Kang that you called the police again. What happened to Gu Qiumian now?"
"Yes, yes, I'll definitely be there." Zhang Shutong said with a smile. "Qiumian's fine. It's just those few people who had a grudge against her family that I mentioned today—finally caught them."
"You're pretty efficient."
"Not bad, though I looked like an idiot, running around doing a bunch of stuff."
"Sometimes it doesn't matter if a man is misunderstood. As long as you get things done."
"Also thanks to you guys."
"Sounds like you're outdoors?"
"Mm."
"Wait, you're not at Gu Qiumian's house, are you..."
Zhang Shutong's smile froze, and he immediately hung up the phone.
The rain was still falling.
This night scene remained unchanged.
Everything became quiet.
It was really cold outside. No one in their right mind would stay outside, so he stretched in a long yawn, rubbing his numb hands, and was about to go inside when he heard a crisp voice descending from above:
"Dummy, what are you standing there for? Aren't you cold?"
Zhang Shutong froze and looked up.
He saw Gu Qiumian's lively and beautiful eyes.
She seemed to have just finished bathing, with a few strands of hair stuck to her face, wrapped in a wine-red nightgown.
Before him were fine threads of rain. In this cold and clean rainy night, they each leaned out halfway, their gazes meeting.