December 8, 2012.
Saturday, early morning.
Zhang Shutong opened his eyes with a yawn.
He hadn't slept well last night. He was picky about beds, and just when he'd spent two days at his own home and was almost getting used to it, he'd changed locations again last night.
The mattress here was very soft—his body could sink into it slightly. He wasn't quite used to it.
Pulling open the curtains, the winter morning sunlight made him squint slightly.
The air was filled with mist, and water droplets seemed to remain on the artificial lawn. Only now did he clearly see what this mountain villa truly looked like.
Opening the window to get some fresh air, the coolness perked him up.
A morning that put one in a good mood.
So he quickly finished washing up, pushed open his door, and walked into the hallway. The scene inside was completely different from the view outside the window. This was an entirely enclosed, narrow space. Looking down, he saw a deep brown wool carpet that lay there solemnly, filling his entire field of vision. And looking up, he saw...
A girl.
A girl with noble appearance and temperament emerged from the classically-styled hallway.
But she seemed to have just woken up not long ago and hadn't washed up yet. Her usually spirited eyes were squinting, her brows slightly furrowed, and her beautiful hair was somewhat disheveled, with a few playful strands stuck to her rosy lips.
She still wore that velvet robe—the deep red fabric formed a striking contrast with her snow-white skin. But the robe no longer maintained last night's neatness. Now it was wrapped around her body at an angle, yet this didn't hide the girl's slender figure. Only her chest area appeared bulging.
"Morning."
Zhang Shutong nodded at Gu Qiumian. This scene reminded him of the bright scenery he'd seen outside the window not long ago, and the stuffiness of the hallway seemed to dissipate entirely.
"Mm... morning." The young Miss Gu mumbled a response, then suddenly stopped in her tracks.
Time seemed to freeze.
He watched as the girl slowly widened her eyes, her cherry-like mouth—with hair stuck to it—also slowly forming an O shape, as if she'd seen something unbelievable.
At the same time, her alarmingly pale face was visibly flushing red. Accompanied by a startled "Ah!", Gu Qiumian quickly hid herself back behind her door.
That noble girl seemed to transform in an instant into a princess on the run, and Zhang Shutong was like a knight from an enemy kingdom come to hunt her down, driving Miss Gu into complete defeat.
Thus the heavy door slammed shut with a bang, and the hallway returned to tranquility. This prompted two thoughts in Zhang Shutong:
First, no wonder she was so pale, with skin as smooth as congealed fat—it turned out to be because her face was thin. Physically thin.
Second, she... seemed to have forgotten after sleeping that they were staying here?
How dumb.
Zhang Shutong had heard of getting up on the wrong side of the bed, but this was the first time he'd seen someone get up stupid.
He took the elevator downstairs and saw Old Song chatting with the housekeeper, already fully dressed. That white shirt had never been ironed so neatly before—he looked just like an elite professional now. The man would occasionally let out a hearty laugh.
If Old Song cleaned himself up, he really didn't look bad.
"Shutong, how'd you sleep last night?"
Unfortunately, he gave himself away the next moment. The homeroom teacher winked at him with a very cunning smile.
"So-so."
"That makes sense. I think if you could sleep at all, you've got quite the composure."
He put on that knowing smile adults use when looking at young kids. Then, putting on a serious face, he interrogated with great teacher's ethics:
"By the way, I just heard Qiumian cry out. What trouble did you cause this time, boy? This is in her home—I've got to keep an eye on you."
But the way Zhang Shutong heard it, this sounded all wrong—as if it was fine to cause trouble as long as it wasn't in her home.
So he calmly explained:
"She seems to have forgotten we're staying here."
If Qingyi and the others were here, Zhang Shutong would have used a more vivid metaphor: it was roughly equivalent to a trainer waking up in the morning to find their Squirtle had evolved into Wartortle, so shocked their face turned red.
Old Song showed a "that's it?" expression, while the housekeeper beside them picked up the conversation with a light laugh: "Mianmian has a bit of low blood sugar. Every morning when she gets up, she gets dizzy easily. Did she scare you?"
The housekeeper was a woman in her early forties, not tall, with wrinkles already at the corners of her eyes, giving off a gentle and kind feeling.
"Not at all," Zhang Shutong wasn't the talkative type, but he wasn't impolite, especially after seeing his clothes that had been washed on the sofa. "I forgot to thank Auntie last night. The noodles were delicious."
"It's nothing. If you want to eat them again in the future, just tell Mianmian. You and the teacher can chat first—I'll go upstairs to check on her."
She nodded at Old Song and left. Only the teacher-student pair remained in the living room.
Zhang Shutong thought that Gu Qiumian and her family's housekeeper must have a good relationship, otherwise she wouldn't use her nickname.
He then chatted with Old Song about official business for a bit. Song Nanshan said the police had already called back this morning—it was indeed people from Commercial Street who did it. He'd need to go to the police station shortly to make a statement.
"We didn't run around yesterday for nothing. This counts as mission accomplished." Old Song stretched. "I heard even city leaders were alarmed. With those five people as an example, even if there are still others on the street who are dissatisfied with her family, they'll have to think twice before doing anything."
Zhang Shutong nodded. This really was killing the chicken to scare the monkey.
He asked Old Song how he planned to deal with those five people. Old Song said, well, what I want to tell you next is exactly about this. Attempted arson is definitely a done deal. I heard they want to charge them with even more serious offenses, but the specific outcome will have to wait until Qiumian's father returns.
"Her father called back?"
"Yeah, he called back this morning. Actually, when I told him about Commercial Street yesterday, he'd already sent people he trusts back. They'll arrive tomorrow at the earliest.
"He himself will be a bit later, but he booked a flight overnight. Said he's not even negotiating business anymore."
"Business?" Zhang Shutong lowered his voice very curiously.
"It's mainly business negotiations, everything else is incidental. Come on, let's talk outside." Old Song simply took him outside. "How should I put this... anyway, men of his wealth level... basically nobody can control them. Moral constraints at the practical level are meaningless. And how should I say this—you see, all these years he hasn't remarried. Even if he 'does that,' it's only when he's off the island negotiating business. Actually, in a sense, that's making a statement: heaven and earth aren't as important as his daughter."
Old Song started going on about men again:
"The same person has different identities. Sometimes men become scumbags, but as fathers, they're still reliable."
Zhang Shutong could understand. To sum it up: Boss Gu still puts his daughter first in his heart. This made him inexplicably relieved.
He just heard Song Nanshan continue:
"I figure Qiumian herself has complicated feelings about this too. Anyway, just don't ask what you shouldn't ask."
Of course.
Zhang Shutong nodded again.
But then Song Nanshan suddenly said meaningfully:
"You better not grow up to be such a scumbag, boy."
Zhang Shutong rolled his eyes, turned around, and went back inside, not planning to entertain such a boring question.
How did this even get around to him? Besides, did he really think being a scumbag was so easy? First, a girl would have to appear in front of him.
...
The next time he saw Gu Qiumian was at breakfast. She sat right across from him.
Regrettably, perhaps because he'd seen her "unkempt" side this morning, Miss Gu felt she'd lost face and was glaring at him again.
Breakfast was fried bacon and meat patties, plus a few cold dishes—a combination of Eastern and Western. She'd transformed back into the noble young lady now. The way she picked up her knife and fork was very elegant, except she kept struggling with the meat patty. Even though it had already been cut into strips, she was dividing it into even smaller pieces.
This would be the last meal staying at the Gu family villa. After eating, they should leave.
Old Song had originally wanted to take the two of them off the island to have fun, but now that the crisis was completely resolved and Gu Qiumian was safe, there was no need to insist. Besides, he still had to make a trip to the police station in the morning. He'd just drop Zhang Shutong off in the city district.
As for Zhang Shutong himself, he was equally busy this morning. Ruoping had already been urging him on QQ, saying they should gather in front of "Beiyi Shopping Center." Next they needed to buy things and go shopping. She'd bombarded him with countless messages, and they had to keep it from Du Kang—couldn't talk about it in the small group chat.
Because today's activity only included her, Qingyi, and himself. Call it giving him a surprise.
It was clearly Du Kang's birthday, yet he himself was being ruthlessly excluded.
Zhang Shutong thought everyone actually knew what was going on. Take Du Kang for example—if it were a normal weekend, he'd already be making noise in the group chat, unable to stay idle. But today he wasn't even sending panda head emojis or flooding the chat, perfectly calm. He might as well say "you all go ahead, I don't know anything."
Today was calm. Zhang Shutong ate the most lavish breakfast since his regression, stuffing bacon in his mouth and freeing up one hand to type. Then he heard Gu Qiumian ask, "Who are you chatting with?"
Zhang Shutong said with friends. She just snorted and said, "I bet it's Feng Ruoping. So when you said you were going out with friends, she's the one who asked you?"
Women's intuition was truly terrifying. Zhang Shutong nodded yes, but Gu Qiumian said nothing more.
"What about you? What are your plans for today?" Zhang Shutong reciprocated by asking.
"Haven't decided yet. I'll just stay home." She rolled her eyes. "What else would I do?"
"What about your little friends?"
"Don't want to see them."
"I thought you'd go out with them, like usual."
"Not in the mood today."
So this was what low blood sugar symptoms looked like.
Zhang Shutong said nothing more and finished his portion of breakfast, habitually going to the sink to wash and put away his dishes.
From the kitchen window, you could also see that artificial lawn. The difference was that the black shadow he'd seen last night was gone—the poisoned guard dog had already been taken away by the police.
The lawn therefore looked very clean. Looking into the distance, there was a desolate wilderness with withered grass growing everywhere, silently shrouded in cold thin mist, making it impossible to see the end.
Only at times like this—though everything in the villa was complete—would Zhang Shutong remember it was built in the most remote place on the small island.
December 8, 2012, Saturday.
The day's plan begins at dawn. Before morning had even passed, everyone had already arranged their schedule for the day.
Old Song had to go to the police station for a statement;
He himself had to go shopping with his close friends;
Gu Qiumian would stay alone at the villa—at least, that seemed to be what she meant.
After looking at the scenery outside the window for a while—he'd long since lost the habit of watching TV—he returned to sit at the dining table.
—Old Song had just gone out to take a call and was just starting to eat now. They'd still need a while before they could leave.
At this time, Gu Qiumian was also eating absent-mindedly. Chewing in small bites, eating without talking—very much like a lady from a distinguished family.
Zhang Shutong waited, bored, one arm propped on the table, and asked her:
"Have you decided what you'll do at home?"
"Play piano, or find a movie to watch."
"The yolk is running out." Zhang Shutong reminded her. Using a knife to cut open a fried egg was simply wasteful.
"Why do you keep watching me eat?"
Zhang Shutong made a sound of acknowledgment and simply stared at the lawn outside.
Her home's decorations and furnishings were all complete, but the only bad thing was there weren't many magazines, and in such a remote place, you couldn't get newspapers delivered either. It was really boring.
So Zhang Shutong boredly propped his chin up:
"Speaking of which, I have a few movie recommendations."
"Don't need your recommendations. No time to watch."
"Very busy?"
"Very busy." She continued staring at her plate, struggling with the meat patty.
"Then stop being busy."
Looking one last time at the wilderness shrouded in mist outside the window, the young man shifted his gaze and extended an invitation to the young lady across from him:
"Come with me when we leave."