"Come with me later."
The girl instantly raised her gaze, even stopping her motion of cutting the meat patty.
Despite this, she spoke slowly and unwillingly:
"Why would I go out with you?"
"I'm inviting you to go shopping at the mall."
Who knew that Gu Qiumian, after taking a bite of fried egg, suddenly couldn't help but laugh:
"Are you stupid or something?"
Being called an idiot for the first time inviting a girl out after the regression—though it was far from being a date—made Zhang Shutong bite the soft flesh inside his mouth.
He heard Gu Qiumian say crisply:
"That mall belongs to my family. What do you mean you're inviting me?"
"Then consider it me riding on your coattails?"
She huffed at this:
"Who all is going?"
"Qingyi, Ruoping, plus the two of us. Four people total."
"My relationship with her isn't good." She said this, but didn't say whether she'd go or not.
"So you don't want to go?"
However, Gu Qiumian didn't respond. She'd already stuffed the last bit of food into her mouth in a few bites, cheeks bulging, then ran toward the elevator wearing slippers with her heels exposed, tapping along. Only when the elevator doors closed did her voice drift out:
"Wait for me to change clothes, I'll be quick..."
See, the low blood sugar was cured.
Zhang Shutong's reason for calling her out was simple—he was afraid something would happen if she stayed alone.
The people her father sent would arrive tomorrow at the earliest. Now that her family's dog was also gone and the villa's location was so isolated, it wasn't very safe.
Theoretically, they'd already caught the arsonist last night. Theoretically, these criminals had acted earlier than in the original timeline. Theoretically, the threat targeting Gu Qiumian had been basically eliminated.
But Zhang Shutong didn't need to stick rigidly to theory. Her family's bodyguards would return tomorrow. Since that was the case, the effort expended so far wasn't insignificant—there was no reason to slack off at the last moment.
But there was one problem he couldn't figure out:
Since Teacher Song and the housekeeper were there in the previous timeline, why did they only file a police report on Tuesday, December 11th, a day after Gu Qiumian disappeared?
Before the regression, Zhang Shutong hadn't thought carefully about this question, assuming the parents weren't very attentive, but looking at it now, there should be another hidden reason.
The only explanation he could think of was that filing a report meant going through official procedures, but Gu Jianhong might have had some unspeakable difficulties and didn't want official involvement too early.
There were still too few clues. If possible, he really wanted to grab Du Kang from eight years in the future and ask more questions.
At this moment, Song Nanshan came over curiously:
"What are you two up to now?"
Zhang Shutong explained, picking out the key points. Old Song was reliable when it mattered—it would be best if he could take this seriously.
Who knew the other man's focus was completely off:
"You finally wised up, kid."
The homeroom teacher felt deeply gratified.
It seemed last night's repeated refusals made him think Zhang Shutong viewed Gu Qiumian as a dangerous flood, avoiding her at all costs. Really not that serious—unless he had a special purpose, Zhang Shutong rarely did things that looked deliberately calculated at first glance.
Old Song said this was right, feelings had to be cultivated slowly, love at first sight was all bullshit.
Zhang Shutong had heard this before—something about how love at first sight was just lust dressed up nicely. But he had no intention of cultivating feelings with Gu Qiumian, so finding Old Song too noisy, he ran to the sofa to browse his phone. That Angry Birds game Ruoping played before was pretty good, so he downloaded it too, waiting for Gu Qiumian to come down.
After all, she said she'd be quick.
But facts proved Zhang Shutong shouldn't have mistakenly believed Miss Gu's words. He'd already played through ten-odd levels, the birds singing their way toward the pigs' lair, but there was still no movement from the girl's side.
So Zhang Shutong found Gu Qiumian on QQ—added last night, along with her phone number. Her avatar was a Q-version drawing that looked like both a cloud and a sheep, prettier than the ghost face on the glass. Her ID was just "Autumn Rain Lingering."
"New Peach Old Charm" asked "Autumn Rain Lingering":
"Not ready yet?"
"Almost."
Zhang Shutong double-clicked the home button and returned to the front lines to continue battling the pigs.
Choosing an internet handle was a technical skill these days, roughly divided into the Shamate派 school, the Western Language school, and the Literary Youth school. His former self should belong to the latter. Shutong, Shutong—supposedly Zhang Shutong should have an inseverable connection with tong trees this lifetime, but actually, he wasn't originally called "Shutong" but rather "Shutong" with a different character.
Not even the character for pupil, but taken from Wang Anshi's poem: "A thousand doors, ten thousand households, the bright sun—Always replacing old charms with new peach." It meant the bright and warm appearance of sunrise.
But it happened to be drizzling the day he was born, destining a shadow over this name. The household registration worker wrote his name wrong, and thus Shutong (曈) became Shutong (桐). So whenever someone asked what his name meant—it sounded quite refined—Zhang Shutong didn't know how to answer.
But his mom was a carefree woman who didn't mind. Instead, she thought the worker's small mistake caused her son's name to undergo a magical chemical reaction. Who cares what it means, as long as it's literary enough—so this name stayed.
Zhang Shutong initially didn't want it, but his mom coaxed him, saying, "Silly boy, isn't '桐' easier to write than '曈'? You'll understand when teachers make you copy your name as punishment."
Zhang Shutong once again mistakenly believed his mother's words. From childhood on, he could never handle his own mom. But since starting school, Zhang Shutong had been a good student, and the only places he wrote his name were homework and tests—conned again.
In any case, when he chose his internet handle back then, he flipped through the Book of Songs but wasn't satisfied with any phrases related to "桐." He simply traced it back to the original source and took the next line "replacing old charms with new peach," thinking it had great depth.
But after all these years, no one could understand his meaning.
Not as good as Gu Qiumian's—just called "Autumn Rain Lingering," straightforward and easy to understand. Boss Gu probably thought when giving birth to his daughter that she'd have a gentle and lingering temperament. It sounded like a melancholy, quiet girl, embodying beautiful expectations. Yet Miss Gu, like himself, just grew up crooked.
Zhang Shutong once again overestimated Autumn Rain Lingering's credibility. His phone was almost overheating, yet the elevator still hadn't come down. When Zhang Shutong asked again if she was ready, this time Gu Qiumian directly sent a voice message: "Hey, stop rushing me, you made me smudge my lip gloss..."
"Then hurry up."
No new messages appeared in the chat window.
Zhang Shutong had a bad premonition—he didn't understand Gu Qiumian, but he more or less understood his mom. If a woman stayed in her room for ages before going out, there were only two possibilities: either putting on makeup or trying on clothes.
Finally, the elevator began descending. The villa's lighting was quite good. On this foggy winter morning, though the outside air was cold and clear, sunlight favored the compartment made of steel and glass, and the elevator doors with their cold metallic luster slowly opened. Before seeing Gu Qiumian's figure, her voice drifted out first:
"How do you think this outfit looks?"
She wore a suede velvet dress, green-blue like a small pine tree standing in winter.
The girl spun in place, and the snow on the pine tree was shaken off, revealing her form in the bright sunlight.
Zhang Shutong also noticed she'd specially applied lip gloss today, something she didn't wear at school. Her pink lips gleamed moistly in the light, appearing even softer.
The somewhat cold outfit and somewhat bright lips didn't clash. Zhang Shutong objectively evaluated:
"Pretty good."
"What's 'pretty good'? Can't you be more specific?" Gu Qiumian said, dissatisfied.
Zhang Shutong looked toward Old Song, who would definitely know how to compliment a girl. But Song Nanshan acted like he didn't see, hands in his pockets, just grinning on the side.
"I think everything looks pretty good." Zhang Shutong had to say.
"Then tell me—should I wear a skirt or pants?"
"As long as you're not cold, whatever you want."
Zhang Shutong sincerely felt that in this weather, you'd have to wear a coat outside anyway. What was the point of dressing up nicely underneath?
"Then let me go back up and try..."
"Ahem, Qiumian, that dress looks good enough." Song Nanshan finally cleared his throat. Even he apparently couldn't withstand the young miss trying on clothes repeatedly. "We still have things to do."
Gu Qiumian finally went to change shoes. No need to go upstairs for that. She called out "Auntie Wu, Auntie Wu, where are those boots of mine? Did you take them for maintenance? Oh, okay... I'll wear sneakers today then." While carrying the bag from the sofa, she rummaged through it, muttering to herself about what she'd forgotten to pack.
"Actually, just bring your phone." Zhang Shutong's thinking was very postmodern.
Miss Gu frowned at him without speaking.
"Don't you usually go out without carrying a bag?"
Alright, this time it turned into a glare.
Zhang Shutong stopped talking and lowered his head to play on his phone.
Actually, he'd been multitasking since Gu Qiumian came down, still battling the pigs. He finally released the slingshot on the screen—it was the last bird. Who knew his hand would shake, and the little bird squawked as it crashed into the cement fortress, leaving only four big characters—
Mission Failed.
After playing so long, he only got the bad ending. Somewhat regretful, he stood up. Time to put on shoes too.
...
The morning air was always cool, heavy with moisture. Gu Qiumian rolled down the car window, waving goodbye to the housekeeper Auntie Wu.
The woman smiled, asking what she wanted to eat for dinner, should she prepare ahead. The girl thought about it and said she'd contact her when the time came, something simple would be fine. It's been a while since she'd eaten Auntie Wu's meat pies, she was craving them a bit.
When she said this, she showed a genuine smile from the heart. Then the vehicle started. The Focus slowly drove along the misty path. Zhang Shutong glanced at her:
"You have a good relationship with that auntie?"
Now both sat in the car's back row—desk mates at school, desk mates in the car—actually because the cloth seat in the passenger side was wet. Last night he'd gotten in the car without taking off his raincoat, and pressing it now, it was full of water.
Gu Qiumian took up little space, sitting behind Old Song. She raised the window. Just now she'd been smiling, but when looking at Zhang Shutong, her face wasn't pleasant. She huffed:
"Of course. Auntie Wu has been at our house since my first year of junior high."
Zhang Shutong nodded.
They rode in silence, or rather, only the girl beside him didn't care to acknowledge him. Sometimes she'd chat a few words with Song Nanshan. Zhang Shutong was happy for the peace.
He watched the scenery rapidly retreating outside the window. Gu Qiumian's villa was in the southern part of the small island. He rarely came here before, and eight years later, there weren't many familiar things along the way.
The only thing worth mentioning was the funeral parlor—the one that would hold the funeral eight years later. But now there wasn't even a shadow of it, just wasteland with a huge chimney erected.
Faint smoke rose into the sky, gradually merging in and disappearing without trace. Perhaps because it had just rained, today's sky was washed clean. Zhang Shutong followed that wisp of smoke upward, quickly unable to find its source.
The car entered the urban area.
As expected for a weekend, there were more people on the road. The small car twisted and turned, finally stopping before the three-story mall's entrance.
Old Song dashingly shifted back to neutral: "I'll go to the police station first. I'll contact you when I'm done. You two have fun."
Then second gear start-up, and whoosh—he was gone.
Only the boy and girl remained in the small open space.
But soon even this little space was squeezed away—the mall entrance was crowded with people, men and women, old people and children, but most were students of similar age.
Zhang Shutong observed the surroundings with slight novelty. There were carts selling roasted sausages and quail eggs, and vendors selling toy balloons, usually with various cartoon character designs, filled with hydrogen. Countless strings held in hand, the balloons crowded together in mid-air in a riot of colors.
Gu Qiumian unconsciously moved closer to Zhang Shutong's side. Zhang Shutong smiled and asked if she wanted to buy a balloon?
The girl rolled her eyes, saying shouldn't you contact your friends to see if they're here yet?
She wasn't timid at all. Supposedly, this kind of occasion where you're introduced to another group through someone should be a bit nerve-wracking, but Gu Qiumian radiated an aura of pride all over, seeming out of place in the crowd.
Zhang Shutong found it strange—why are you more impatient than me?
She instead puffed out her chest: "What? Should I be afraid of them?"
When she said this, her lips were glistening, her eyes flying high, as if she'd spent so long getting ready just to not lose face at the meeting.
Zhang Shutong couldn't figure out what she was thinking. He just looked her over a few times, always feeling "Autumn Rain Lingering" had something off about her today. After a moment, he noticed—she wasn't wearing that scarf today.
"But no need to contact them, they're very conspicuous. Look—"
Finishing, Zhang Shutong pointed toward the most ostentatious figure in the crowd. A boy wearing headphones was listening to music alone.
Qingyi wore a denim jacket today. Zhang Shutong thought it was cool, but with all the noise around—he and Gu Qiumian had to deliberately raise their voices to talk—could he really hear what song was playing in his headphones?
Walking up to pat his shoulder, Qingyi turned his head. He was the same as always, perpetually deadpan. Seeing Zhang Shutong, he smiled and was about to greet him, but before words left his mouth, the boy's gaze moved behind Zhang Shutong, finally freezing in astonishment.
Only Miss Gu had the ability to break through Qingyi's poker face.
"Gu Qiumian. You all know each other anyway, no introductions needed."
Though Zhang Shutong felt it was really strange for classmates to need his introduction, he still calmly turned back and said to Gu Qiumian:
"Meng Qingyi, my best friend."
"Oh... oh." The surprise lasted only a few seconds before Qingyi returned to deadpan. Du Kang definitely couldn't do this. He casually spread his hands: "Welcome."
Gu Qiumian also nodded neither warmly nor coldly, saying a greeting. Right now she seemed like a cold young miss again.
Zhang Shutong stood between the two, asking where's Ruoping, why didn't she come with you?
"Her." Qingyi said helplessly. "Just now she saw some snack she'd never seen before and ran off to queue."
The three looked at the flow of people coming and going, suddenly not knowing what to do.
Zhang Shutong never took charge in such situations. Before, their group of boys all listened to Ruoping's arrangements, which was normal. But something was off with Gu Qiumian—usually when going out with her lackeys, she commanded them, but today she wasn't talking.
Zhang Shutong then said let's wait inside the mall first, too many people at the entrance, I'll tell Ruoping through QQ.
Inside the mall there were fewer people. Right upon entering was a selling area for various clothes. On both sides were shoe stores and nail salons. In short, it fit the island's character—don't expect it to be like a real large commercial plaza.
Even the escalator was the cargo type without steps, no elevator either. From this perspective, it wasn't as good as Gu Qiumian's house.
Zhang Shutong hadn't been here in a long time. He asked Gu Qiumian what was good to browse. Though it was her family's mall, she said she rarely came here either. The rest didn't need saying—probably thought there was too little to do.
They wandered around casually. Gu Qiumian glanced around carelessly, just walking forward. Clearly, nothing here caught her eye.
Who knew how exotic Ruoping's snack was—she still hadn't come back. At this point, Gu Qiumian said she needed to use the bathroom. Zhang Shutong stopped and said he'd wait for her here.
Then he saw Miss Gu lift the bag she'd been carrying over her shoulder to her hand, thrusting it toward him. Zhang Shutong and she stared at each other for two seconds. Her hand also stopped in mid-air for two seconds. The girl then glared:
"Hold it!"
Well, looked like today wasn't about having no lackeys to go shopping with. This is where she'd been waiting.
Zhang Shutong took the bag, watching her walk away haughtily.
"So that's what this means?"
Qingyi was also puzzled, thoughtful.
"See, I told you she's hard to read."
Zhang Shutong rather felt like he'd found a kindred spirit.
They happened to stop in front of a toy store. The two looked through the display window at the Transformers models inside:
"Whoa, this paint job is pretty good... But Shutong, why'd you bring her along?"
"Saw she was alone at home... But look, the parting lines are a bit obvious."
"Did you two come together?" Qingyi didn't let him change the subject, his expression growing stranger.
"...There was a driver." For Old Song's image's sake, Zhang Shutong left him out.
"But aren't your houses too far apart?"
"The driver picked her up first then picked me up."
"That driver's pretty enthusiastic."
"...Indeed."
Who knew that once the words left his mouth, Qingyi revealed a triumphant smile:
"You're completely exposed, Shutong. Did you stay at Gu Qiumian's house last night?"
"How'd you figure it out?" Zhang Shutong sniffed himself puzzled. Did staying with Gu Qiumian for one night make him smell like her?
"When I asked 'did you two come together,' the answer could only be yes or no. But you brought up the driver instead—that's suspicious. Combined with last night's phone call, isn't it obvious?"
"...Yes, but that was because it was raining."
"What actually happened last night?" The reasoning fanatic was good in this regard—more interested in truth than gossip.
Zhang Shutong roughly explained. Qingyi thought about it: "I get it. You're still worried about her."
"Yeah, consider me overly cautious."
"Being careful isn't wrong. After all, a man's..."
"Stop right there!"
"This is the first time I've seen you care so much about a girl." Qingyi seamlessly switched to gossip mode.
"..."
This really wasn't easy to answer. On the surface it appeared so, but the essence was completely different by a hundred and eight thousand li. He was about to act like he hadn't heard when he suddenly thought of an old friend. So Zhang Shutong nodded faintly:
"For now, you can understand it that way."
Now it was Qingyi's turn to have nothing to say.
The mightiest Autobot in the display was naturally Optimus Prime. The two stared at it, studying for a while, before Qingyi spoke:
"But from the police handling results, the Commercial Street incident should be resolved. Even if they hate her family, they'll have to hold back."
"Pretty much."
"So bringing her out is still about caring for her." Qingyi gleefully added: "Don't sigh yet, I'm the easy one. When Ruoping gets here, you'll have a bigger headache. Bring someone out, you've got to be prepared for this."
Zhang Shutong was mentally exhausted:
"What grudge do those two even have?"
"That question's too abstruse. Let's change topics."
"What should we eat for lunch?"
"You think it'll be up to us to decide?"
"True enough."
"I noticed, Shutong—you really seem to want to solve the case."
"Exactly."
"So what did you discover over the whole night?"
Zhang Shutong didn't know if low blood sugar counted. He thought about it:
"Actually, there's a discovery that's not quite a discovery, from when I was washing dishes this morning."
"What?"
"I'm not very certain right now either." Zhang Shutong looked thoughtful. "Let's discuss it—"
"It should count as asking about a physics problem." Right now the mall building was bustling with noise, voices rising and falling. The suspended ceiling overhead was a full four or five meters high, LED lights casting spots of light on the white marble floor. "Suppose it's night, raining, with occasional lightning, around seven o'clock. It's already dark. We're inside a house with bright lights."
He breathed on the toy store glass and tapped it with his knuckle:
"This is a window."
He pointed at the display case across:
"This is the lawn outside."
"I get it. You're talking about Gu Qiumian's house. Continue."
Finally, Zhang Shutong pointed at that mighty Optimus Prime, only to realize this hand was holding Gu Qiumian's bag, so he switched hands:
"Now imagine it as a dead dog.
"So tell me, if this dog was lying motionless on the lawn, should we be able to see it?"
...
Walking out of the bathroom, turning through a corridor, she reached the mall's main hall.
A pretty girl in a green-blue dress stood at the corridor entrance. She stopped and looked left and right, slightly frowning, as if she'd forgotten the way back.
Before her, people came and went—old people and children, men and women, unfamiliar faces one after another, a surging tide of humanity.
In this moment, the world was chaotic. Lights dazzling, ears buzzing. Some walked hurriedly, some relaxed. Some wore happy smiles, others completely covered their faces:
That was a woman wearing sunglasses and a face mask.
She seemed to have been observing for a long time. The woman quietly walked behind Gu Qiumian, pulled out something, reached forward with one hand—