Strangely enough, as soon as Old Song left, they fell silent like a TV that had just blacked out.
After a long moment, Gu Qiumian finally asked if he wanted her to show him around the house. Zhang Shutong nodded in agreement.
So he followed behind the girl, both of them wrapped in bathrobes—one white, one red—which made things feel rather odd.
Ordinarily, a host showing a guest around the house would be perfectly normal, but what about a host in a bathrobe leading a guest also in a bathrobe?
He walked the path she usually walked, his footsteps light, his mood relaxed, seeing the oversized color TV in the living room, the art pieces in the cabinets, the dried flowers in the vases—all these things made Zhang Shutong feel they were far removed from his own life.
Sometimes he'd think, if it were Miss Gu leading her lackeys on a tour, what would those lackeys say? Probably heap on crazy amounts of flattery. So Zhang Shutong joined in with a few agreeable comments, picking out only the nice things to say.
Who knew Gu Qiumian would actually be displeased instead:
"Can you please not parrot what others say?"
"Am I parroting what you say?" Zhang Shutong was confused too.
"I didn't say you were copying me. I'm saying don't deliberately imitate other people. I didn't bring you around to hear you kiss up to me." The girl looked indignant.
"Praising you also makes you unhappy?"
"You might as well just talk normally like you usually do."
"I remember you saying my normal way of talking is pretty annoying."
"Now it's even more annoying!"
Just then, Zhang Shutong happened to see a set of twelve zodiac figurines. He pointed at the sheep among them and nodded. "Oh, baa baa."
"What did you just say?" Mianmian herself asked incredulously, eyes wide open.
"Isn't that a sheep? Baa baa." Zhang Shutong was teasing her.
And so the sheep transformed into a tiger, grinding its teeth and wanting to swallow Zhang Shutong in one bite.
Gu Qiumian glared at him twice, then simply ignored him and walked straight ahead.
There was an elevator in the center of the villa.
They went to the basement first.
The basement had only one level—the audiovisual room.
A row of large sofas faced an enormous screen, with speakers on both sides. In the middle was a coffee table with an ashtray and several microphones on it. This was apparently where Gu Qiumian sang with her girlfriends.
"You like singing?"
"It's alright. It's just that sometimes staying on the island gets boring."
"Sometimes it really is pretty boring." Seeing as they were both from the provincial capital, Zhang Shutong decided to commiserate with her a bit. "Can't even get Kentucky Fried Chicken."
"Oh, you're talking about food—that's actually not too bad."
"You have a housekeeper?"
"No, I have my dad's driver buy things."
Zhang Shutong thought to himself, worthy of being a rich young lady indeed. He added that KFC probably wasn't even worth the round-trip fare.
But Gu Qiumian said, who said anything about buying KFC? Why are you so fixated on KFC?
"So it's McDonald's then?"
"At the very least it should be Pizza Hut." Miss Gu sighed with her hand on her forehead.
She went on to say that if there were even one proper Western restaurant in the city, she wouldn't even order Pizza Hut. But it had the advantage of convenience—when there were a lot of people singing, a few boxes of pizza and a few bottles of soda could settle a meal.
Zhang Shutong couldn't really explain that he thought Pizza Hut practically counted as a big meal, while Gu Qiumian only considered it fast food.
"What kind of pizza do you like?" Gu Qiumian suddenly asked a strange question.
"The one with sausage and ketchup." Zhang Shutong had forgotten what it was called. "I think it's Supreme American?"
"What about me?" she asked again.
Zhang Shutong thought for a second to make sure he hadn't misheard.
But how would he know what she liked to eat? He'd never been to any restaurant with her. If Du Kang were here, he'd say with a grin, "Treat me once and I'll know." But Zhang Shutong couldn't pull off that kind of witty remark:
"What do you mean?"
"Never mind." Gu Qiumian pursed her lips, clasped her hands behind her back, and stopped talking.
Her face nestled against the soft collar of her pajamas. Zhang Shutong watched her back, imagining the girl singing in the audiovisual room, the melody sometimes soothing, sometimes lively, the charm she always wore in her hair bouncing along.
Of course, Gu Qiumian was barefaced right now—Zhang Shutong had never seen her with makeup on—meaning she wasn't wearing a scarf, wasn't wearing any hair accessories, and had tied up the hair she usually wore down.
They'd only come to the basement to look around, not to actually sing. And Gu Qiumian had inexplicably lost interest in talking. After Zhang Shutong glanced around a few times, he followed Gu Qiumian back up.
The whole way it smelled fragrant.
They took the elevator directly to the second floor.
This level was extremely quiet. The entire floor was covered with wool carpet, and flower stands lined the corridor. Behind them, the elevator doors closed—even the tiny noise seemed magnified. At this moment, Gu Qiumian said softly:
"I thought you came over tonight because..."
She trailed off there.
"What did you just say?"
"Nothing." Gu Qiumian changed the subject. "Where are you going tomorrow?"
"Going out to hang with friends, I guess. One of my close buddies has a birthday coming up."
The girl said "oh" again and led him to the guest room.
The bed had already been made by the housekeeper. The interior style was like a hotel's. Gu Qiumian said if there was anything he needed, he should tell her now, because she'd be going to sleep soon.
Zhang Shutong said definitely not. He was the kind of person who could spend the night as long as he had a pillow, a bed, and blankets. Though he did need to adjust to new beds, wasn't he at Gu Qiumian's house after all?
Gu Qiumian nodded and said goodnight to him. Zhang Shutong saw her to the door. Just as the door was about to close completely, she suddenly said with her back turned:
"Remember, it's the one with fruit."
Zhang Shutong paused, then realized she was talking about pizza. He said with amusement:
"Are you really planning to make me treat you?"
"Who's like you, always thinking about food?" Gu Qiumian said irritably. "You don't need to treat me. I'm saying you should remember it."
Zhang Shutong nodded.
This was actually pretty easy to remember. The one with fruit was probably that kind of Hawaiian pizza with pineapple slices. Sweet-savory. He'd recently discovered that Gu Qiumian quite liked eating sweet-savory things, like sweet and sour pork, and the buns from the street stalls.
But what was the point of remembering a fruit pizza? Other than treating her, Zhang Shutong couldn't think of anything else.
So what came next?
There was no "next."
"You'd better really remember it." Leaving behind another cryptic remark, Gu Qiumian took the initiative to close the door.
Zhang Shutong remained alone in the room.
He habitually analyzed the girl's meaning. Perhaps she was saying that if someday they had a chance to eat together, he'd better have some tact when ordering, like Miss Gu's little secretary, completely clear on her tastes.
Was she training him in the direction of becoming her secretary?
But Zhang Shutong only planned to be a lackey, and even this lackey position was temporary. When it expired, he'd voluntarily resign, wouldn't ask for compensation, and absolutely wouldn't cling.
In any case, he could never figure out Gu Qiumian's thoughts. Since she told him to remember it, it wasn't much trouble, so he remembered it, whether it would come in handy or not.
Now he came to the bedroom window.
He couldn't see any stars tonight. After trying to get his bearings for a while, he discovered this spot faced exactly toward the backyard. When he'd stood outside the railing looking up, this guest room was what he'd seen.
The rain gradually stopped.
After observing for a bit longer and making sure the curtains on the third-floor windows were drawn properly, Zhang Shutong collapsed onto the bed.
He stared blankly at the ceiling, thinking about how there were truly many things tomorrow as well. He really was a bit tired.
Unfortunately, the magic Old Song had mentioned wasn't working on him at all.
When he'd been talking with Gu Qiumian earlier, he hadn't felt anything, but now as soon as he touched the bed, his eyelids couldn't help but fight each other. So he turned off the light, covered himself with the blanket, and went through his habit of mentally reviewing the day's events before sleeping.
A moment later, he closed his eyes, hoping for a peaceful night.
Today was the late night of December 7th. Perhaps when he opened his eyes again, it would be the morning of the 8th.
Only three days remained until Gu Qiumian's original death date.
......
When the girl in the wine-red bathrobe returned to her room, the bedroom window was open.
Not long ago, she'd seen the Ford Focus at the front gate from here and had rushed downstairs.
She didn't turn on the light, only quietly closed the window and walked to her desk, turning on the desk lamp.
There were no stars tonight. It was as if the dust of the world had been washed clean by this cold rain. The desk lamp before her was like a motionless firefly, illuminating the outline of the entire room with its warm-colored glow.
The girl sat in this faint light, chin propped in her hands, lost in thought about who knows what.
She'd always loved this kind of atmosphere—the light dim, yet not so dark as to lose the sense of security. She daydreamed, just as small as the small, hazy, quiet space around her.
Those beautiful, spirited eyes gazed at a photo frame placed on the desk. The frame held a group photo.
The photograph had already faded somewhat, time leaving its irreversible marks upon it.
Finally, she extended her finger and forcefully flicked it against a cold-faced child in the frame.
The frame fell over with a sound. The girl named Gu Qiumian muttered:
"Traitor..."