Chapter 44: The Mysterious Woman (Seeking Votes and First-Time Readers!)

“Wait, come with me later.”

The girl immediately lifted her gaze, even pausing her motion of slicing the meat patty.

Yet, reluctantly and slowly, she asked, “Why would I go out with you?”

“To invite you to the mall, of course.”

Unexpectedly, Gu Qiumian took a bite of her fried egg and suddenly burst into laughter.

“Are you stupid or what?”

This was the first time after rewinding that Zhang Shutong had invited the girl out. Although it was far from a date, being called an idiot made him bite down on the soft meat in his mouth.

Gu Qiumian then chirped brightly, “That mall is my family’s, so how am I the one inviting you?”

“Then just think of it as tagging along with you.”

She snorted, “Who else is coming?”

“Qing Yi, Ruo Ping, and us two—four in total.”

“My relationship with her isn’t good,” she said but didn’t say whether she would go.

“So you don’t want to?”

Yet Gu Qiumian didn’t reply. She quickly stuffed the last bit of food into her mouth, puffed out her cheeks, then, stepping in slippers with her heels exposed, clicked over to the elevator. Only when the elevator doors closed did her voice drift out, “Wait for me to change, I’ll be ready soon…”

See, the low blood sugar was cured.

Zhang Shutong’s reason for calling her out was simple—he was afraid something might happen if she stayed alone.

Gu’s father’s men wouldn’t arrive until tomorrow at the earliest. Now that their dog was gone and the villa was so remote, it wasn’t very safe.

In theory, the arsonist had been caught last night; in theory, the attackers had acted earlier than in the original timeline; in theory, the threats against Gu Qiumian had been mostly eliminated.

But Zhang Shutong didn’t feel the need to cling to theory. His family’s bodyguards would be back tomorrow. Having put in so much effort already, there was no reason to slack off at the last moment.

However, one question puzzled him: since Old Song and the nanny were there in the previous timeline, why did they only report her disappearance after a full day, on Tuesday, December 11?

Before rewinding, Zhang Shutong hadn’t given this much thought, assuming the parents were just careless. Now, it seemed there was more to the story.

The only explanation that made sense to him was that reporting the case meant going through official procedures, but Gu Jianhong might have some unspeakable secrets and didn’t want the authorities involved too soon.

There were too few clues. If possible, he really wanted to grab Du Kang from eight years later and ask him more.

At that moment, Song Nanshan came over curiously and asked, “What are you two fussing about now?”

Zhang Shutong picked out the key points and explained. Old Song was reliable when it mattered, and it was good to catch his attention.

But the point Old Song focused on was completely off: “So you finally came to your senses.”

The homeroom teacher was deeply comforted.

Apparently, Zhang Shutong’s repeated refusals last night had made Old Song think he regarded Gu Qiumian as a disaster to be avoided at all costs. It wasn’t really like that. Unless he had a special purpose, Zhang Shutong rarely did things that seemed deliberately planned.

Old Song said that was right—feelings had to be nurtured slowly; love at first sight was nonsense.

Zhang Shutong had heard this before: love at first sight was just a poetic way to describe lust. But he had no intention of developing feelings for Gu Qiumian, so he found Old Song too noisy, went to the sofa, and started scrolling on his phone.

Ruo Ping’s Angry Birds game was pretty good, so he downloaded one and waited for Gu Qiumian to come down.

After all, she said she’d be ready soon.

But it turned out Zhang Shutong shouldn’t have trusted the young lady’s words. He had cleared more than ten levels, the birds were charging fiercely towards the pigs’ hideout, yet there was still no sign of the girl.

He then found Gu Qiumian’s QQ—the one he added last night, with her phone number saved too. Her avatar was a chibi drawing that looked like both a cloud and a sheep, much nicer than the funny faces on the glass. Her ID was “Endless Autumn Rain.”

“New Peach Old Charm” asked “Endless Autumn Rain”: “Not ready yet?”

“Almost.”

Zhang Shutong double-clicked the home button and returned to the frontline to continue battling the pig fortress.

These days, choosing an online name was an art, roughly divided into glam rock, foreign language, and literary styles. He used to belong to the latter. By rights, Zhang Shutong should have an inseparable connection with the paulownia tree, but at first, he wasn’t called “Shutong” but “Shutong” with a different character.

Not the one meaning “pupil of the eye,” but from Wang Anshi’s poem: “Thousands of doors, millions of households, the rising sun; always replacing old peach charms with new,” meaning the dawn’s light was bright and warm.

But on the day he was born, it rained lightly, casting a shadow over the name. The registrar mistakenly wrote the wrong character, turning “Shutong” into “Shutong.” So when people asked what his name meant, sounding somewhat elegant, Zhang Shutong never knew how to answer.

His mother was a carefree woman and didn’t mind. She thought the registrar’s small mistake created a magical chemical reaction in her son’s name. Meaning or not, as long as it sounded artistic, that was enough. The name stayed.

Zhang Shutong initially disliked it, but his mother coaxed him: “Silly boy, isn’t ‘tong’ easier to write than ‘tong’? You’ll thank me when you have to copy your name for punishment.”

He believed her again. Throughout school, he struggled with his mother’s ways. But as a good student, he only wrote his name on homework and tests, so he was tricked once again.

When he first created his online name, he flipped through the Book of Songs, but wasn’t satisfied with the lines involving “tong,” so he traced back to the original source and took the latter half: “new peach replaces old charms,” thinking it was profound.

But after all these years, no one really understood his meaning.

Gu Qiumian’s was simpler: “Endless Autumn Rain.” Straightforward and easy to understand. He imagined Gu’s parents must have thought she was gentle and lingering, sounding like a melancholy and quiet girl, embodying beautiful wishes. Yet, the young lady was just as wayward as he was.

Zhang Shutong once again overestimated the reliability of “Endless Autumn Rain.” His phone was nearly overheating, the elevator still hadn’t come down, and when he asked again if she was ready, Gu Qiumian sent a voice message: “Hey, don’t rush me, I even messed up my lip gloss…”

“Then hurry up.”

No new messages came in.

Zhang Shutong felt a bad premonition—he didn’t understand Gu Qiumian well, but he almost understood his mother. If a woman lingered in her room before going out, there were only two possibilities: she was either putting on makeup or trying on clothes.

Finally, the elevator began descending. The villa had excellent lighting. On this misty winter morning, the outside air was crisp and cold, but the sunlight favored the steel and glass elevator cabin, shining with a cold metallic hue. The doors slowly opened, but before he could see Gu Qiumian, her voice floated out:

“How do you think of this outfit?”

She wore a teal suede dress, like a little pine tree standing firm in winter.

The girl spun around in place, shaking off the snow clinging to the pine, revealing her figure under the bright sunlight.

Zhang Shutong noticed she had deliberately applied lip gloss today, something she never did at school. Her pink lips gleamed moistly under the light, seeming softer.

The somewhat cool outfit and the slightly vivid lips didn’t clash. Zhang Shutong objectively commented, “It’s nice.”

“What do you mean ‘nice’? Be more specific,” Gu Qiumian complained.

Zhang Shutong glanced at Old Song, who would surely know how to compliment a girl, but Song Nanshan just stood nearby, hands in pockets, chuckling.

“I think everything looks good,” Zhang Shutong had to say.

“Then do you think I should wear a skirt or pants?”

“As long as you’re not cold, whatever you want.”

He truly believed that in this weather, you had to wear a coat outdoors, so no matter how nice your inner outfit was, it didn’t matter.

“Then I’ll go try on some more…”

“Ahem, Qiumian, this dress is already good enough,” Song Nanshan finally cleared his throat. He seemed unable to resist the young lady trying on outfits repeatedly. “We’ve got things to do later.”

Gu Qiumian finally went to change her shoes. She didn’t need to go upstairs to do that. Calling out to Aunt Wu, “Aunt Wu, where are my boots? Did you take them for maintenance? Okay then… I’ll wear my sneakers today,” she grabbed her bag from the sofa, rummaging inside, muttering about forgetting to pack something.

“You just need to bring your phone,” Zhang Shutong said with a modern mindset.

The young lady frowned and stared at him silently.

“You don’t usually carry a bag when you go out either, do you?”

Fine, now she was glaring.

Zhang Shutong said nothing more and looked down at his phone.

Actually, since Gu Qiumian came down, he had been multitasking, fighting the pig fortress while waiting. He was about to release the last bird when his hand trembled slightly. The bird cried out as it crashed into the concrete fortress, leaving four big words: Mission Failed.

After playing for so long with a bad ending, he stood up somewhat regretfully and prepared to put on his shoes.

…

The morning air was always fresh and heavy with moisture. Gu Qiumian rolled down the car window and waved goodbye to Aunt Wu, the nanny.

The woman smiled and asked what she wanted for dinner, if she should prepare it in advance. The girl thought a moment and said she’d decide later and contact her ahead of time. Something simple would do. It had been a long time since she’d eaten Aunt Wu’s pies; she was craving them a bit.

She smiled sincerely as she spoke. The car started, a Focus rolling slowly down the misty path. Zhang Shutong glanced at her:

“You’re close with that aunt, huh?”

Now they both sat in the back seat, at school they were desk mates, and now in the car, still desk mates—actually because the front passenger seat was wet from rain gear he hadn’t taken off last night.

Gu Qiumian took up little space and moved behind Old Song. She rolled up the window, smiling moments ago but now wearing a sour expression as she looked at Zhang Shutong.

“Hmph, of course. Aunt Wu’s been with our family since I was in middle school.”

Zhang Shutong nodded.

There was silence for a while, or rather, the girl nearby didn’t care much to talk to him. She occasionally chatted with Song Nanshan, which suited Zhang Shutong just fine.

He watched the scenery flying past outside. Gu Qiumian’s villa was on the island’s southern end. He hadn’t come here often before, and after eight years, few things were familiar.

The only notable place was the funeral home that held the funeral eight years later. But now there was nothing left—just a barren patch of land with a gigantic chimney.

Faint smoke rose, then slowly merged into the sky, vanishing without a trace. Perhaps because of recent rain, the sky was clear and bright. Zhang Shutong traced the smoke but quickly lost its source.

The car entered the city.

As expected on a weekend, there were more people on the road. The car twisted and turned, finally stopping in front of a three-story mall.

Old Song smoothly shifted into neutral. “I’ll head to the police station first. I’ll contact you when I’m done. Have fun, you two.”

Then, shifting gears, he sped off.

Only the boy and girl remained in the small space.

But soon, even that little space was swallowed by the crowd—people swarmed before the mall: men, women, old, young, but mostly students their age.

Zhang Shutong looked around with a hint of novelty. There was a cart selling grilled sausages and quail eggs, vendors selling toy balloons, usually covered with cartoon characters, filled with helium, strings bundled in hands, colorful balloons clustered midair.

Gu Qiumian instinctively leaned a bit closer to Zhang Shutong, who smiled and asked if she wanted to buy a balloon.

The girl rolled her eyes and told him to check if his friends had arrived.

She wasn’t shy. Normally, meeting a new group introduced by others would be intimidating, but Gu Qiumian radiated a proud aura that made her stand out in the crowd.

Zhang Shutong curiously asked, “Why are you more eager than me?”

She puffed out her chest. “Why? Am I supposed to be scared of them?”

Her lips gleamed, and her eyes sparkled, as if all the fuss over her appearance was to avoid embarrassment when meeting them.

Zhang Shutong couldn’t figure out her thoughts but glanced at her and felt something was off with “Endless Autumn Rain” today. Then he realized—she wasn’t wearing that scarf.

“No need to contact them. They’re very obvious, look—”

He pointed to the most flamboyant figure in the crowd. A boy wearing headphones was listening to music alone.

Qing Yi wore a denim jacket today, which Zhang Shutong thought was cool, but with all the noise around, even he had to raise his voice to talk to Gu Qiumian. Could Qing Yi really hear what was playing in his headphones?

He walked over and tapped the boy’s shoulder. Qing Yi turned, still expressionless as usual. Seeing Zhang Shutong smile, he tried to greet him, but before he could, his gaze shifted behind Zhang Shutong and fixed on Gu Qiumian with surprise.

Only Gu Qiumian could break through Qing Yi’s poker face.

“Gu Qiumian, since you all know each other, no need for introductions.”

Though Zhang Shutong found it odd that classmates needed him to introduce them, he calmly turned to Gu Qiumian: “Meng Qingyi, my best friend.”

“Oh… oh.” The surprise lasted only seconds before Qing Yi returned to his usual mask. Du Kang could never do this. He casually waved his hands, “Welcome.”

Gu Qiumian nodded coolly and greeted back. Now she looked like a cold young lady again.

Zhang Shutong stood between them and asked, “Where’s Ruo Ping? Why isn’t she with you?”

“She…” Qing Yi replied helplessly, “She saw a snack she’s never had before and went to queue up.”

The three of them watched the crowd, suddenly at a loss.

Zhang Shutong never took charge in such situations. Before, the boys always followed Ruo Ping’s lead, which was normal. But Gu Qiumian’s side was different. She usually directed when they went out, but today she was quiet.

“Let’s wait inside the mall,” Zhang Shutong suggested. “Too crowded here. I’ll message Ruo Ping on QQ.”

Inside the mall, it was less crowded. Right by the entrance were clothing stores, flanked by shoe and nail salons—very typical of a small island mall. Don’t expect a big commercial plaza.

Even the elevators were freight elevators without steps, no direct passenger elevators. In that sense, the mall was less convenient than Gu Qiumian’s home.

It had been a long time since Zhang Shutong came here. He asked Gu Qiumian what was good to shop for. Although it was her family’s mall, she said she rarely came, probably because it wasn’t much fun.

They wandered casually. Gu Qiumian glanced briefly but just kept walking. Nothing here caught her eye.

They didn’t know how novel Ruo Ping’s snack was, as she hadn’t returned yet. Gu Qiumian said she needed to use the restroom, so Zhang Shutong stopped and said he’d wait there.

He saw the young lady lift her bag onto her arm, hold it out in front of him. They locked eyes for two seconds; her hand hung midair for two seconds before she narrowed her eyes:

“Hold it!”

Well, it seemed she wasn’t walking with her entourage today—they were apparently waiting here.

Zhang Shutong took the bag and watched her stride away confidently.

***

“So that’s what’s going on?” Qing Yi was puzzled, thoughtful.

“I told you it’s hard to guess.”

Zhang Shutong felt a sense of kinship.

They stopped in front of a toy store and peered through the window at the Transformers models.

“Wow, this paint job’s nice… Hey, Shutong, why’d you bring her along?”

“She was just at home… But look, the mold line’s pretty obvious.”

“You two came together?” Qing Yi didn’t buy his evasive answer, his gaze even stranger now.

“...A driver brought us.” To protect Old Song’s image, Zhang Shutong concealed him.

“But aren’t your homes too far apart?”

“The driver picked her up first, then me.”

“That’s a pretty thoughtful driver.”

“...Yeah.”

But as soon as he said it, Qing Yi smiled triumphantly.

“You’re totally busted, Shutong. Did you spend last night at Gu Qiumian’s?”

“How’d you know?” Zhang Shutong sniffed himself. Could staying with Gu Qiumian for one night have left a scent on him?

“When I asked if you two came together, the answer should be yes or no. But you mentioned the driver instead, which is suspicious. Plus, connect it to last night’s call. It’s obvious.”

“...Yeah, but it rained.”

“What happened last night exactly?” The detective was all about facts, not gossip.

Zhang Shutong gave a rough explanation. Qing Yi thought a moment.

“I get it. Actually, you’re still worried about her.”

“Yeah, just call me a worrywart.”

“Being careful is no harm. After all, a man’s…”

“Stop!”

“This is the first time I’ve seen you care about a girl like this,” Qing Yi switched to gossip mode seamlessly.

“...”

Hard to answer that. On the surface, yes, but the essence was miles apart. He was about to ignore it when he suddenly remembered an old acquaintance. So Zhang Shutong nodded faintly:

“For now, you can understand it that way.”

Qing Yi had nothing to say.

The most formidable Autobot in the cabinet was Optimus Prime. They stared at it a while before Qing Yi spoke:

“But from the police’s handling, the incident on Commercial Street is basically resolved. No matter how much you dislike her family, you have to endure.”

“Pretty much.”

“So you bringing her out is still caring,” Qing Yi teased, “Don’t sigh yet. When Ruo Ping arrives, you’ll have even more trouble. Bringing people out means being prepared.”

Zhang Shutong was exhausted.

“What’s their grudge anyway?”

“That’s too complicated. Let’s change the subject.”

“What about lunch?”

“Do you think we get to decide?”

“True.”

“I think you really want to solve the case, Shutong.”

“That’s right.”

“So, any discoveries after the whole night?”

Zhang Shutong wasn’t sure if low blood sugar counted. He thought a moment.

“Actually, there’s something that’s not really a discovery, just something I noticed this morning while washing dishes.”

“What?”

“I’m still not sure,” Zhang Shutong mused, “Let me explain—”

“More like a physics question,” The mall was bustling, voices loud. The ceiling was four or five meters high, LED lights casting spots on the white marble floor.

He breathed on the toy store’s glass and tapped it with his knuckles:

“This is a window.”

He pointed to the opposite display case:

“This is the lawn outside.”

“I get it, you mean Gu Qiumian’s house. Go on.”

Finally, Zhang Shutong pointed at the mighty Optimus Prime but realized the hand was holding Gu Qiumian’s bag, so he switched hands:

“Now imagine it’s a dead dog.

“If this dog lies on the lawn motionless, would we see it?”

…

Exiting the restroom, then turning down a corridor, brought them to the mall’s main hall.

A beautiful girl in a teal dress stood at the corridor’s entrance. She stopped, looked left and right, furrowing her brows, as if she’d forgotten the way back.

Strangers flowed past—old and young, men and women—faces unfamiliar, the crowd surging.

At this moment, the world was chaotic. Lights dazzled, ears rang with buzzing. Some hurried, some relaxed, some smiled happily, others completely blank-faced.

One was a woman wearing sunglasses and a mask.

She seemed to have been watching for a while. Quietly, the woman approached behind Gu Qiumian, pulled something out, and reached forward with one hand—

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