Alright, saying he could regress was just a joke.
He'd rather die of social embarrassment than be trapped in the past.
But the current situation really gave Zhang Shutong a headache. At their age, everyone was most curious and gossipy about romantic feelings between boys and girls. Just talking a few extra words with a female classmate would lead to rumors that so-and-so had feelings for so-and-so, let alone what was written on that scrap paper. The problem was that two girls' names were written on it, which would only make it more explosive.
He could guarantee that in a few days there would definitely be rumors about Zhang Shutong secretly crushing on two girls at the same time.
The surrounding classmates were all dumbfounded, probably thinking this kid was usually so quiet, but had such grand ambitions. If it were someone like Du Kang whose thoughts were already impossible to hide, that would be fine—everyone would definitely offer their warmest smiles and send him off to find a crack in the ground to hide in. But looking at the boy named Zhang Shutong again, he remained unmoved, sitting in his seat with a cold face. By now, some people were already secretly giving him a thumbs up.
The homeroom teacher on the podium was stunned for a moment, cleared his throat, and said in a deep voice:
"Zhang Shutong."
"...Here."
"What's the deal with your homework from yesterday?"
He waved the Five Years of High School Entrance Exams, Three Years of Mock Tests workbook and slammed it heavily on the podium. The force was so great it startled the students, but his other hand secretly crumpled the scrap paper into a ball and stuffed it into his pocket:
"Just because your grades are good you're getting special treatment in class, not even doing homework now? Your tail's about to reach the sky!"
"I forgot."
"You forgot? Get to the back and reflect for the whole period."
Song Nanshan had a very imposing presence when expressionless. He swept his gaze around with a stern face, and the students became like startled birds. Then he turned and barked:
"Alright, what are you all gawking at? Have I been smiling at you too much lately? What are you looking at me for? Look at the screen!"
Zhang Shutong stood like that for the entire period.
After class, he was immediately called to the office by Song Nanshan.
Old Song sat back in his office chair, still with a stern face, exuding a murderous aura:
"Do you know where you went wrong?"
"I know." Zhang Shutong lowered his head—the surface-level gestures still had to be made. He originally wanted to act obedient, but really couldn't fake it, so he cut straight to the point: "Thank you for earlier, Teacher."
"Mm, thank me for what?" Unexpectedly, Old Song perked up, grinning as he asked, "I scolded you and made you stand for a whole period. Aren't you cursing me out in your heart?"
Hearing this made Zhang Shutong want to curl his lip:
"Thank you for diverting all the attention away, and for making me go to the back, saving me from people staring at me for the whole period."
Actually, his skin really wasn't that thin—on the contrary, he thought standing was quite tiring. But in the homeroom teacher's eyes, he probably still seemed like that taciturn, stubbornly quiet kid from back then, which led to this kind of response.
Song Nanshan was greatly comforted, saying the kid still understood him, so even if he was cursed to death as a teacher he could rest in peace; Zhang Shutong said how would he dare, and secretly told him that actually in the future he'd die even earlier than him.
—Of course, the above scene didn't actually happen.
Zhang Shutong never spoke nonsense, and at most would roll his eyes when truly at a loss for words.
Song Nanshan just raised an eyebrow and leaned back comfortably in his office chair, handing him the empty teacup:
"Not bad, kid. How did your emotional intelligence suddenly improve so much?"
"Regular self-cultivation."
"If you had this kind of awareness, how did things get so tense between you and Gu Qiumian before?"
"What do you mean?"
"You still don't understand. Though I know you didn't do it, how should I put this..." Old Song had the expression of someone who'd been through it all, suddenly somewhat wistful, though who knows what heartbreak he was remembering. "Forget it, you'll understand when you grow up."
Zhang Shutong thought, truly sorry, but I still don't understand even now.
"You already know about that?"
"Of course I know. I was even thinking about how I'd handle it if her dad came looking for answers, but he didn't show up."
Zhang Shutong paused his vigorous pouring of hot water and added some cold water to mix it.
Returning the teacup to the homeroom teacher, he asked:
"Is there anything else?"
"You want to slip away already? Not staying here with me until school's out?"
Zhang Shutong shook his head.
But Song Nanshan wasn't having it, pulling him by the shoulder:
"Come come come, first tell me, what's really going on with those names on the paper?"
This was exactly what he didn't want to talk about, which is why he wanted to leave quickly.
He said helplessly:
"Just wrote down some names."
"Nothing else?"
"Really nothing."
"Which one do you like more?"
Zhang Shutong nearly coughed up blood. Knowing the rumor had to be nipped in the bud at its source, he was about to explain when Old Song nodded, stroking his stubble and talking to himself:
"Looks like it's still Gu Qiumian, otherwise why would you sit next to her? Mm, go on, go on. You little boys are quite amusing."
Zhang Shutong's eye twitched. Just as he walked out of the office door, he heard Song Nanshan call out from behind:
"Shutong—"
The other's tone had become somewhat more serious, making Zhang Shutong turn around involuntarily.
Then he took a sip of water and crossed his legs:
"Since you didn't do your homework, don't forget to take on next week's classroom duty."
"..."
In the end, he only returned to the classroom after the class bell rang.
Although he'd pretty much figured out how to handle it, he'd underestimated everyone's curiosity. As soon as he walked through the door, they all looked at him like he was a giant panda—the panda's fur was about to be stared bald.
The only exception was Gu Qiumian.
She stared straight ahead at the podium without looking away, not saying a single word from start to finish.
Zhang Shutong felt inexplicably relieved—it would be troublesome if she asked this and that.
Just like that, the relationship with his new deskmate had just gone from overcast to light rain, and now turned to cloudy again.
Though he didn't dislike overcast days anyway.
One period passed quickly. What had to come would come—Du Kang ran over with a guilty expression. Zhang Shutong didn't care about the surrounding people's gazes, but couldn't handle inquiries from acquaintances, especially those who came to care about his "romantic status."
"I was wrong, bro!" Du Kang was direct about it, nearly doing a dogeza.
Wrong about what? He almost learned from Song Nanshan and asked that question, thinking to himself, you call this helping me turn in homework? You call this doing me a favor? You call this no need for thanks between brothers?
There were so many points to criticize that even he wanted to complain.
Besides, this kid wasn't really here to apologize—at best he was the advance scout.
The real culprits were behind him—couldn't he see Ruoping and Qingyi standing not far away, stealing glances with faces about to cramp from smiling? Once they discovered Zhang Shutong was in a good mood and in a state where friendly communication could be established, they'd immediately rush over to gossip.
Zhang Shutong had always been a direct person. He calmly held up three fingers:
"Three versions. Which one do you want to hear?"
"Can I hear all of them?" Du Kang asked while making eye contact with the two in the distance.
The surrounding noise seemed to quiet down a bit. Several people pretended not to care while glancing over, and even Gu Qiumian pricked up her ears, though she was still fiddling with her bag—it was dismissal time right now.
Zhang Shutong saw this but didn't care, continuing:
"Sure, but I'll only tell one person. I find crowds annoying, and right now I want some peace and quiet."
As soon as he said it, he regretted it, staring at Du Kang's mouth, thinking you better not crack that joke.
However:
"Who's Jingjing?"
"Switch with Qingyi." Zhang Shutong pinched the bridge of his nose. This was the joking style of 2012—all the "I'm dizzy," "Jingjing," "floating clouds"... It made him cringe.
"No no no, I'll definitely keep quiet! So what's the first one?"
"Old Song had me write a seating chart to organize study groups. I didn't finish before turning it in."
"Come on man, the timing doesn't add up. Quick, what's the second one?"
"Before switching seats I had a dream. I dreamed the next arrangement would be like this."
Zhang Shutong spread his arms to indicate:
"Look, she's beside me, she's diagonally in front, plus me—it forms a stable triangle."
At this point he muttered to himself, it really is like that, isn't it? Gu Qiumian is the right angle.
"So you drew what you dreamed onto paper, and followed the dream's instructions to move over here?"
Du Kang helpfully completed the second half of the sentence for him, with an expression that said 'are you kidding me':
"So what's the third one?"
"I like both of them at the same time."
"Why don't I believe any of these?"
Du Kang was baffled.
"Then I've got nothing." Zhang Shutong shrugged. "Pick whichever one you like to believe."
What's the best way to eliminate a rumor? Zhang Shutong thought it was to make up several even more ridiculous ones.
If everyone thought they were all ridiculous, and in the end believed none of them, his goal would be achieved.
Currently the effect seemed pretty good. Several onlookers showed "that's it?" expressions, found it quite boring, and turned to leave.
The more seriously you take something, the more endless it becomes. Being open about it actually makes it die down immediately.
He believed that by tomorrow, three extremely ridiculous rumors straight from his mouth as the person involved would spread throughout the class, get discussed for a bit, and then nothing would happen.
"Are you sure you don't like Lu Qinglian?" Du Kang had volunteered partly due to his own ulterior motives, and finally asked the question he cared about most.
Zhang Shutong couldn't be bothered with such boring questions, but this very reaction made Du Kang breathe a sigh of relief.
Zhang Shutong thought this matter was pretty much over. The handling wasn't perfect, but for this level of problem, the brain cells spent on it were worth about this much.
Besides, he had another important matter to attend to—or rather, that was the real reason for triggering the regression from eight years later. Just as he was about to say he was going downstairs, Gu Qiumian suddenly stood up with her bag packed.
Her face was buried in that red scarf, covering her chin and only revealing her delicate nose.
The girl still had a cold expression, with a strand of hair hanging in front of her pretty eyes. She knocked on the back of Zhang Shutong's chair, then said nothing more.
Zhang Shutong had to say he really couldn't figure out a young girl's thoughts. Did Miss Gu still want to hear him tell a fourth version? Please no, even if you executed this humble subject he couldn't do it—those three just now had already cost enough brain cells.
They deadlocked for two seconds before she glared again, her voice crisp:
"Would you let me out!"
"..."
He moved his chair, and Gu Qiumian clip-clopped out the door in her small leather boots, the pendant in her hair swaying back and forth.
The two watched her retreating figure:
"Can you guess what she meant?"
"I think... I actually can?" Du Kang said uncertainly. "I think it's very simple. She just wanted to get out, but we were blocking her way the whole time."
"That's hindsight."
Better to doubt others than reflect on yourself.
Zhang Shutong stretched, relaxing his whole body:
"Well, I'm getting ready to leave too."
"OK, see you at the usual place."
"The usual place?"
"Didn't you say yesterday we'd battle again today? The bait's already mixed and ready. Changing your mind?"
Now that he mentioned it, Zhang Shutong's hands did itch a bit—his parents usually worked overtime and weren't home, so busy they were invisible. There was nothing to do going back anyway.
"Perfect timing then. But I have something to take care of at home. I'll come after I'm done, you guys eat first."
Looking around, Ruoping and Qingyi had already gone downstairs—probably mistakenly thinking he was in a bad mood and planning to interrogate Du Kang later.
The two waved goodbye. Zhang Shutong smiled at his seat, thinking this was the correct way to experience student days.
Just as he finished packing up to leave, the girl at the front desk slowly turned around:
"Zhang Shutong, wait a moment."
Zhang Shutong then remembered this penguin... no, this person. Her presence really was too low.
The girl named Lu Qinglian tore off the straw from her student milk carton while looking over expressionlessly:
"Are you free after school? I have a few things I want to talk to you about."
As expected, I knew it...
Zhang Shutong pinched the bridge of his nose.
He'd considered the chain reactions that scrap paper would cause—he'd considered Song Nanshan's, considered the surrounding classmates', considered his close friends', even considered Gu Qiumian's—but he'd forgotten to consider hers alone.
The girl lowered her head and coolly found the right position, inserting the straw, then added:
"You'd better come. It's something very important."
Speaking of which, this person was truly terrifying—she could actually hold out until now before drinking.
But this girl was easy to deal with. Just like how Stand users attract each other, people of few words also like people of few words best.
Zhang Shutong showed a perfectly confused expression:
"Not free."
"What for?" The girl frowned, and it actually had some imposing presence.
"Fishing."
"What about after you're done fishing?"
"..."
Zhang Shutong sighed. "If it's about that Five Years of High School Entrance Exams, Three Years of Mock Tests workbook causing you trouble, I..."
"Oh, I was the one who collected it." Lu Qinglian took a sip of milk, her fine eyebrows relaxing. "So you're not free all day today?"
Zhang Shutong nodded.
"I understand."
Having said that, she turned around indifferently. The conversation ended abruptly, as if the "very important matter" she'd just mentioned was completely less important than drinking milk.
That's it?
Zhang Shutong blinked.
He suddenly understood Song Nanshan's feelings from earlier.
Riddle-speakers aren't formed in a day—young lady, this personality of yours will be quite dangerous eight years from now.
This incomprehensible conversation lingered in his mind for a while.
He was now walking through the snow-covered campus. The ground was slippery, making people involuntarily slow their pace.
The surroundings were the same as always. The red sunset bathed the entire world in warm tones. The ping-pong tables were covered in white. Through the fence, he could see the distant lake surface, also in warm tones, rippling with silver waves. He watched for a while before feeling the glare.
So he closed his eyes and judged from the sounds—around him were students running or walking, several snowballs whooshed past, and some kid fell on the ground...
His past self was probably like them, a kid who only knew how to run wild everywhere.
Wanting to eat, wanting to sleep, wanting to play, and sometimes wanting to stop and look at the clouds drifting aimlessly overhead.
What was it that made him become like that later on?
Actually, it was already impossible to trace back.
But since he'd already returned, he'd make up for the regrets of those years.
Zhang Shutong then got stuck on the first step of making up for regrets—he'd forgotten where he parked his bicycle.
After wandering around the bike shed for ages, he finally found a familiar one:
Dark blue, Flying Pigeon brand, slightly crooked handlebars, with some ocean animal stickers on the body—still looked pretty cool even now.
The top bar had a double-sided bag, one side for water, the other for a flashlight.
The rear rack had been modified by himself, with a square box attached. He opened it to look—inside was a telescoping fishing rod, and there was even a retractable baton lying there.
Zhang Shutong suddenly smiled.
No wonder he didn't have a girlfriend back then—without a rear seat, how could he give a girl a ride?
The snow was in a half-melted state. The ground was crisscrossed with dark gray tire tracks and footprints. The islanders were used to it—at most they'd sprinkle some salt, nothing to do with snow-melting agents.
When the weather was harsh, neighbors would voluntarily come out to shovel snow, working enthusiastically. Sometimes even students like them would be mobilized.
He carefully exited the school gate and headed toward the island's only police station.
This was the plan he'd decided on immediately after regressing—Zhang Shutong called it Plan A. As for what Plan B was, like Ultraman's finishing move, he'd figure it out if this didn't work.
They got out at five, and the trip took over twenty minutes. Along the way, he'd pretty much worked out what to say—like how to make people believe a student's words, how to focus the key points on the case four days from now... He thought it was quite comprehensive.
However, after staying in the police station for less than a minute, Zhang Shutong was hauled out.
Literally hauled—the officer on duty was a bear-like burly man with dark skin and a scar across his face. Coincidentally, his surname really was Xiong.
Officer Xiong glared with those bell-like eyes and barked in dialect:
"How many times have I told you student punks, it's the fishing ban period now! The higher-ups just issued a notice—strict enforcement, understand what that means?
"And you little bastards still dare to come! Last time that baby-faced one came and tricked me, saying someone was electrofishing on the east side. The moment I went on patrol, you punks turned around and went fishing on the west side. Now you're spinning even more ridiculous tales—what suspects and all that!
"If I catch you again, I'm reporting directly to your school. Go home and reflect, understand?"
"Under... understood..." Zhang Shutong replied weakly, speaking in dialect after a long time.
He rubbed his temples. Poor Plan A was officially declared bankrupt, as short-lived as the timer on Ultraman's chest—couldn't last a few minutes before the red light came on.
He looked at his hands again and couldn't help but laugh and curse: "You little punk, just how much did you love fishing back then..."
Ah well, forget it...
He could only get back on his bike, put on his tactical gloves, and check the retractable baton from the bike box again. Facing the direction of the setting sun, he squinted, then stepped on the pedal.
The bicycle slowly dragged out a long tire track.
Looks like he had to go take a look at the "Forbidden Zone" after all.
The main storyline officially begins