Chapter 56: "Pleased to Meet You"

In a sense, this Saturday was extraordinarily lively.

Yet even the liveliest of days must come to an end.

As the clock approached eight, the wail of police sirens echoed through the nighttime campus.

The police had taken away the Zhou father and son. Even if definitive evidence hadn't been found tonight, the elder Zhou had pressed his thumbprint on the document when rallying his accomplices. The island lacked fingerprint-analysis technology, but sending the prints to the city for a check would reveal everything; the charge of conspiring to commit arson alone was enough to keep him locked up for a long time.

As for what ultimate fate awaited the two of them, Zhang Shutong didn't need to worry about it; Boss Gu would help his daughter vent her anger.

It was time to part ways.

The homes of the three close friends were in the residential area on the northern part of the island, while Song Nanshan's dormitory was not far from there. Gu Qiumian's villa was to the south, and Zhang Shutong needed to head east—toward the foothills of Green Snake Mountain.

In short, the six of them each went their separate ways.

At that moment, an unexpected interlude occurred.

After Song Nanshan made a few phone calls, a Land Rover drove up to the school gates moments later. The beams of its high-beam headlights illuminated the silhouettes for dozens of meters ahead, and two men stepped out of the vehicle—they were Gu Qiumian's bodyguards.

They had rushed back from the provincial capital overnight as an "advance party" to ensure the safety of their young mistress.

Zhang Shutong looked at the Land Rover, then at the two powerfully built men with crew cuts, thinking to himself: Ah, the real thugs have finally arrived.

As the two bodyguards stepped out of the car, Gu Qiumian was whispering to him, but a moment later, one of the men respectfully handed over a phone and said, "Miss, President Gu is very worried about your safety..." So Gu Qiumian went back to talking on the phone with her father.

Zhang Shutong finally felt a sense of relief in his heart, which meant that this Saturday, fraught with variables, had finally been weathered through.

Yet Gu Qiumian wasn't happy at all; it seemed the arrival of the bodyguards was less of a pleasant surprise and more of a fright. Zhang Shutong couldn't fathom what she was being so awkward about, but Gu Qiumian simply asked:

"Come with my family's car, I'll send you back."

Zhang Shutong shook his head and refused. His bicycle was still parked in the shed, untouched since they left school on Friday. The true sign that a battle had ended was not how formidable an enemy you had defeated, but rather bringing your own little bike back to your garage after the dust had settled.

There were many people gathered around, and the two of them didn't exchange many words anyway—perhaps they didn't have the time. Everyone was busy with their own affairs, some making phone calls, others checking in to let their families know they were safe... The young lady had strolled around all day, and it was time for her to go home.

Gu Qiumian looked back from the window of the Land Rover as the night wind scattered her hair. Yet in the coldest moment, she hadn't brought that scarf with her. Zhang Shutong waved at her as a final farewell.

Only the master and his four disciples remained at the school gates.

Their mouths were never idle. Dukang asked Qingyi, "What gift did you guys buy me? I didn't want to ask, but since we accomplished something major today, can you give me a heads-up in advance?"

Ruoping asked Zhang Shutong, "How does it feel to be the hero saving the damsel in distress? By the way, earlier I saw a romance movie playing in the classroom, with you and the young lady all cozy watching a movie together while the rest of us froze on the rooftop. Wow, wow, how blissful."

Ruoping was still disgruntled about being kept in the dark.

As soon as Gu Qiumian left, she started venting her frustrations on him.

Zhang Shutong could only take it. A few scoldings wouldn't cost him any flesh.

Finally, Old Song asked, "Are you guys hungry? Should we go get a late-night snack?"

Zhang Shutong was the first to opt out. He just wanted to go home and lie down for a while. He wasn't particularly sleepy, but he wanted to find a warm place to zone out.

His close friends weren't in a hurry either. They told Old Song to go file his statement first; today was only Saturday, and they still had a whole day to play tomorrow—they wouldn't miss out for this short while.

Besides, the few of them really had carried desks all afternoon and were exhausted.

After a brief discussion, they decided on this: Old Song would take Ruoping and Dukang home since neither of their bicycles was here, and since Qingyi's bicycle had been left by Zhang Shutong at the entrance of the nail salon, she would tag along with them and ride it back tomorrow.

In the end, he went back alone.

He yawned and didn't rush to ride his bike. Instead, he returned to the teaching building. When the police arrived earlier, they had all rushed downstairs in a hurry, leaving the projector in the classroom still running. Figuring that the four of them had been busy all day, Zhang Shutong told them to go on ahead while he took care of it himself.

When he re-entered the classroom, *Roman Holiday* was just nearing its end.

It matched the plot summary he had seen online earlier—after a brief holiday, the princess returned to the palace the next day, and the male protagonist stood among a group of his peers, looking at a princess who was both unfamiliar and familiar. The two of them pretended not to know each other, never expecting that the princess would suddenly ask to shake hands with the reporters. Puzzled as to what she was up to, everyone complied.

Zhang Shutong understood the princess's intention. She shook hands with everyone, but in truth, she just wanted to shake his hand one last time.

The moment for their handshake arrived shortly. Zhang Shutong had already moved his mouse to the red button in the upper right corner of the video, but stopped involuntarily, wanting to see what the two of them would say.

Yet there was only one sentence, or perhaps not even a sentence—just two words. Besides, this was an English movie, and naturally, their homeroom teacher wouldn't have sourced a Chinese-dubbed version just for listening comprehension practice, so the words softly uttered by the princess were even simpler, consisting of just a single word:

"Charmed."

Zhang Shutong clicked the left mouse button.

He folded up the projector, put it away, and instinctively glanced out the classroom window to make sure it was latched tightly, only to find a plastic bag sitting at his desk. Inside were the snacks retrieved from the library cabinet.

The plastic bag sat there undisturbed. They had clearly gone slightly out of their way specifically to get it, saying it was to help recreate the cinema atmosphere, but in reality, no one had eaten a single bite.

Zhang Shutong stuffed it back into Gu Qiumian's desk drawer. He closed the classroom door, went down the stairs, exited the building, and mounted his bicycle.

His home was to the east, but instead of heading straight home, Zhang Shutong turned his handlebars southward.

That plastic bag made him realize something—

His payment for today was still at the supermarket.

He considered that to be his payment. He had accompanied the young lady all day, and since she didn't like owing people favors, those two large shopping bags of food were naturally her way of settling the debt.

Zhang Shutong didn't feel the items were too few. He hadn't gone for anything else in the first place—he wanted neither money nor anything else. Two large bags of food were just right; one bag wasn't enough to share with his close friends, and three bags were too much to carry back. He had always been a pragmatist.

Ruoping and the others were all wrong. He was neither a hero saving a damsel in distress nor any sort of guardian angel; this was simply something that needed to be done in life, with no reason and expecting no reward.

They were always mystified by his motives, just as he was mystified by their speculations. This matter felt more like a slightly larger pebble on the road of life. You could walk around it in the past, and really, bypassing it was no big deal—who doesn't encounter a few stones in their lifetime?

Yet he had been fortunate enough to return to the starting point of that road, and that stone was still blocking the path eight years later. Knowing it would trip people up, Zhang Shutong had put in a little effort and kicked the stone to the roadside.

The so-called retracing of steps was simply the process of clearing away stones.

He quickly rode to "Peiyi Mall." It was just a few minutes before closing time. A janitor was mopping the floor. He apologized as he rushed to the service counter and retrieved the two bags of snacks from the cabinet.

He hung the two bags on either side of his handlebars, keeping the center of gravity balanced. At that exact moment, Zhang Shutong felt that the "Young Lady's Future Goddess Operation" had finally come to an official end.

The hired muscle had retrieved his payment and could now retire to his hometown.

The streetlights still had that half-dead look, casting a yellowish hue over the asphalt on both sides of the road. He rode leisurely, feeling a bit thirsty, and thought about fishing a bottle of water out from the shopping bag.

Yet Gu Qiumian was thoroughly practical, never padding things out with drinks, and the two shopping bags were equally practical—disappointingly so. He sped up his movements. He hadn't walked this night road in a long time, yet it wasn't a particularly memorable place. Besides, tonight there might be more than just himself at home; his mom would be there too... Speaking of his own mother, Zhang Shutong felt a twitch of apprehension. His phone had been turned off, and he had no idea if his mom had called. Upon returning, he was bound to face an interrogation—come to think of it, he still hadn't explained his failure to return home last night.

His head began to ache. Riding too fast or too slow both felt wrong. He hoped the TV station was still broadcasting *Detective Conan* tonight so he could tell her he wanted to watch cartoons, and no matter what his mom said, he would just lie on the sofa and pretend not to hear.

His shadow was stretched very long, and along this deserted path, Zhang Shutong ran into an unexpected person.

"Zhang Shutong."

The other party spoke quietly, proactively calling out to stop him.

Zhang Shutong squeezed his brakes, wondering what Lu Qinglian was doing out so late. She was still wearing that cyan robe, though her usual ponytail was undone, leaving her hair cascading down to her waist as she walked alone along the road.

What a coincidence. The two of them were standing at an intersection right now; if he had ridden a little faster, or she had walked a little slower, they wouldn't have crossed paths.

Zhang Shutong nodded and greeted her, lacking the nerve to say, "You look like a female ghost wandering around in the middle of the night."

"Why are you still outside so late?"

"Taking a walk."

"Digesting after dinner?" Zhang Shutong chuckled, feeling that whenever he ran into this girl, all his humorous cells rushed back.

She gave a faint nod.

"For now, you can understand it that way."

Zhang Shutong bit his lip—no, he couldn't bite it anymore—and looked at her speechlessly.

Considering the two of them shared the bond of a cup of milk tea, treating her like an idiot any further seemed a bit unreasonable.

Zhang Shutong wasn't Dukang. If it were Dukang, he would have run up to ask what she was doing, if she needed company, and how it wasn't safe to be out so late...

Normally, running into a girl alone outside at night should prompt a reminder to be careful, but Zhang Shutong felt that by comparison, he was the one who needed to watch out for his own safety. Having nothing more to say, he casually muttered a goodbye and pedaled off toward home.

Yet Lu Qinglian suddenly asked:

"Are you free tomorrow afternoon? I have a few words to tell you."

"What? Say it now, I'm not in that much of a hurry." Zhang Shutong considered taking the shopping bags down; keeping them balanced on the handlebars was too difficult.

"But I have other business right now and no time." She thought for a moment. "If you're free, you can come to the temple as a guest tomorrow afternoon."

"Then I'm not free." Zhang Shutong rejected her outright. Are you kidding me? Life was finally getting back on track; who would run back to a temple? What if that "retrograde" ability triggered again?

Lu Qinglian didn't speak further. It seemed she really was in a rush, as she turned and left without looking back at his refusal.

She wore a long robe, her slender legs concealed beneath the fabric. Usually it wasn't noticeable, but while walking, one could see that despite her unhurried strides, she moved remarkably fast.

Zhang Shutong watched with puzzlement as Lu Qinglian headed south, thinking to himself that this wasn't the direction toward her home either.

Yet this girl was just like that; if she didn't want to tell you something, no matter how you asked, you wouldn't get an answer.

As it happened, Zhang Shutong had no interest in prying into everything.

He was genuinely tired and just wanted to go home and rest now. If there really was anything to say, it wouldn't be too late to discuss it when he got back to school on Monday—that was how Zhang Shutong rationalized it. She had a personality that wouldn't stop until she achieved her goal, much like that time with the fishing. If it had been truly urgent, she would have tagged along directly, though Zhang Shutong still didn't understand what she had come for that night.

He reached home at nearly nine o'clock.

His mom wasn't in; another night of being by himself.

He got a headache when she was around, yet missed her dearly when she wasn't, reminding him of the previous night spent at the villa. He could hear the bubbling sound of water boiling for noodles, the palace-like decor, the man in the living room watching a ball game, and the girl sitting across from him watching him eat... That counted as extraordinarily lively for him. Under the mist-shrouded night, rain streaked across the floor-to-ceiling glass windows, bringing a unique sense of warmth to a brightly lit room.

Yet, ridiculously enough, when had he ever been able to associate himself with the word "warmth"?

Zhang Shutong had once thought that if everyone was born with a mission, his mission was to fight that damned ability until death, never stopping. Even if he hadn't prepared himself to grow old and die in solitude, he had nonetheless remained completely alone for all these years.

Gradually, things were changing now. The people around him were increasing, and Zhang Shutong felt he hadn't yet adapted to this shift. Before, he hadn't had the time to think about it, but now he was finally able to dwell on it properly.

First, he plugged his phone in to charge and went to change his clothes. By the time he finished washing up and returned, the phone had powered on, and sure enough, there was a barrage of messages. Lying in bed, he prepared to report that he was safe, then set the phone aside to let his brain completely zone out for a while.

On QQ, there were messages from his close friends announcing their safe arrival. Lacking the mood for idle chat today, he simply took a photo of his ceiling and sent it as a reply.

Then came a slew of missed calls: some from his mom, some from Song Nanshan, and the last one surprisingly from Gu Qiumian. Zhang Shutong initially intended to reply to Old Song first—since a single sentence would suffice to end the call—before chatting with his mom. But Gu Qiumian's call gave him pause because he confirmed that the sheep-and-cloud avatar on QQ had no new messages; if it were a trivial matter, she definitely would have messaged him on QQ instead. He dialed back, and the call connected quickly, carrying the girl's voice from the other end:

"How is it that you're only just getting home?"

Her tone didn't sound like anything was wrong; in fact, it was quite brisk.

Zhang Shutong asked about her, and she replied that she had already showered and was now in her bedroom. When Zhang Shutong asked where her bodyguards and domestic helper were, he learned that several of them would be staying at the villa tonight.

Reassured, Zhang Shutong asked why she had called. She said it was nothing, just checking if he had made it home. Just as Zhang Shutong was about to say that chatting on QQ would have sufficed, Gu Qiumian continued:

"Are you free tomorrow?"

That phrase sounded suspiciously familiar from somewhere.

Zhang Shutong asked what was up, and she replied that they were going out for a meal, of course—lunch. But he needed to arrive early... "Never mind, never mind, I'll come find you instead. What's your home address?"

Why was it food again...

Zhang Shutong doubted he'd be able to wake up in time, but as if guessing his thoughts, she added, "You surely don't think I'm treating just you, do you? Your friends are coming too. We need to thank them for tonight's events as well. So you're not allowed to refuse."

Zhang Shutong was won over by her logic; after all, Qingyi and the others had worked hard for half a day too. He nodded and said, "Alright, where are we eating?"

"My place or a restaurant, you pick."

"Your place, then."

Gu Qiumian asked if he had any dishes in mind. He said anything was fine, but the moment the words left his mouth, he could practically sense the girl glaring at him through the phone, so he rattled off a few dishes his close friends liked.

After finalizing the details, Zhang Shutong prepared to hang up, then asked what time they had settled on. "Is eleven too late? I need to notify my friends."

Annoyed, she retorted, "Eleven? What are you talking about? Six."

Whose lunch do you eat at six?

Could she mean six in the morning?

She had seemed to mention arriving early earlier, but would six o'clock be a bit too excessive... Zhang Shutong suspected the young lady had gone silly again.

"What are you saying? You're so dense," she scolded. "I meant dinner at six."

Puzzled, Zhang Shutong pointed out, "You just said lunch a moment ago. My memory is good; do you want me to repeat it back to you? Why are you changing your mind again?"

Silence stretched from the other end of the line for a long moment, long enough for Zhang Shutong to wonder if his phone had lost signal again, before she muttered in a low voice:

"Lunch is just the two of us; we're only eating with your friends in the evening. Can't you even understand that much, dummy..."

Zhang Shutong wasn't entirely certain anymore because he genuinely hadn't picked up on that layer of meaning. Just as he was about to speak, Gu Qiumian cut in, "It's settled then. Come find me at the pier at ten tomorrow morning. Don't you dare be late..." And she abruptly hung up the phone.

Zhang Shutong held the phone against his ear for a long time, finally piecing together her intentions.

It seemed that in the span of just a few sentences, the young lady had completely mapped out his schedule for tomorrow.

First go to the pier...

Wait, the pier? That meant taking a boat off the island and heading into the city! And what was in the city? Commercial plazas, upscale restaurants, movie theaters, Ferris wheels... Zhang Shutong instantly snapped awake.

He switched over to his QQ interface, found "Autumn Rain Rippling," and typed: *Let's change the location. Going into the city is too tiring; let's just make it a group dinner in the evening.*

Before he could hit send, another phone call suddenly buzzed in.

It was his mom's.

She truly possessed uncanny foresight, managing to guess the exact moment he got home. Just as Zhang Shutong prepared to express his admiration for his mother, she snapped angrily, "Your phone had power, why didn't you call me back immediately?"

"Just got home..."

His mother offered a sweet smile. "Tongtong dear, did you know I actually tried calling you just now, but it showed as busy, so I hung up right away?"

Acknowledging that he had no defense against her, Zhang Shutong decisively confessed, saying he had been reporting safety to a friend just then.

However, his mother dropped a bombshell:

"To Gu Qiumian?"

Zhang Shutong propped himself up from the bed.

"Don't try to make up excuses to fool me," his mother continued. "You never call your friends to report safety. Who else could it be besides Gu Qiumian?"

Resigned, Zhang Shutong admitted, "She called me. I was just worried something happened to her."

"Mhm, mhm! My Tongtong is so wonderful, such a strapping young man!" his mother cooed playfully.

Abandoning all resistance, Zhang Shutong briefly explained the events of the night, telling her that her son hadn't been out on a date with a girl, but rather off saving the world.

Instead of asking how heinous the culprits were, his mother asked if he had eaten, as though nothing in the world mattered more than her son having an empty stomach.

He said he had eaten, and his mother replied that she had left some vegetables in the pot for him, which could serve as breakfast tomorrow.

Zhang Shutong was still unaccustomed to talking with his mom like this. Eight years later, she wouldn't be this cheerful; she had worried herself sick over him for years, especially during the period when he suspended his high school education, crying behind his back every single day.

Zhang Shutong urged his mom not to overwork herself. She retorted that he didn't need to worry about her and should focus on himself instead: how had things gone with Gu Qiumian today?

She couldn't go three sentences without bringing up Gu Qiumian. Zhang Shutong insisted, "Mom, you really misunderstand. We aren't that kind of relationship."

"Then are you free tomorrow?"

Subconsciously, Zhang Shutong replied that he already had plans.

His mother let out a disdainful huff.

Deciding to drop the explanation that Gu Qiumian was treating a whole group of people, Zhang Shutong tried a different angle. Rolling his eyes, he brought up the morning's events, asking, "Were you afraid that Gu Qiumian and Ruoping would start a fight back then?"

"That's all because of you. One is your friend, and the other is your... hehe." His mother just smiled.

Yet Zhang Shutong had been waiting precisely for this line. "You'd never guess, but the two of them got along totally fine. Gu Qiumian even took the initiative to apologize."

He brought this up to tell her not to be so narcissistic—not everyone revolved around her son as if he were some priceless treasure.

Instead, his mother asked in bewilderment:

"You said Gu Qiumian took the initiative to apologize?"

"Yeah, she's not a bad person."

Having spent more time around her, Zhang Shutong found that she didn't possess the overbearing young-lady personality he had imagined, aside from her occasional habit of glaring at people.

"I've realized that telling you all this is just a waste of my precious rest time."

Dropping that dismissive remark, his mother added, "Hang up, hang up. If I get wrinkles, I'm blaming it all on you," and promptly ended the call.

It was the first time he had ever been given the cold shoulder by his own mother.

Zhang Shutong called Song Nanshan back. Old Song was slurping down instant noodles on the other end, which made Zhang Shutong feel a bit hungry himself.

He wandered into the kitchen. His mom had indeed left a portion of stewed vegetables in the pot. He couldn't finish all of it, but if he left leftovers, they would turn into mush by tomorrow morning; he might as well just eat steamed buns.

Two steamed buns sat covered under a mesh food tent. Chomp in teeth, he wandered over to the sofa with a bun in his mouth to watch television, only to spot the two shopping bags resting beside him. Zhang Shutong slapped his forehead, thinking he must be out of his mind to go chew on a plain bun when he had snacks available.

He wasn't undergoing ascetic training; when good things were at hand, he might as well enjoy them. Rummaging through the bags, he found all sorts of treats—Cretan crackers, shrimp chips, beef jerky, Want Want Senbei, and of course, plenty of chocolates and desserts chosen by Gu Qiumian based on her own tastes.

He dumped everything out, set aside a few items he actually wanted, and planned to bring the rest for Ruoping and the others. Then, amidst the colorful packaging, he spotted something dark and bulky.

That item looked utterly out of place. While the other snacks wore exquisite wrappings, this one was simply wrapped in a plastic bag. In a sense, it wasn't even a snack. Zhang Shutong remembered what it was—

It turned out to be a piece of pork liver.

The only cooked item? Or rather, a proper dish?

He remembered asking Gu Qiumian earlier why she had bought such a large piece of pork liver, to which she had replied that she wanted to eat it, though it needed to be consumed quickly, and her family certainly wasn't short on a single piece of pork liver. Zhang Shutong hadn't bothered returning it to her because his memory was remarkably good. Just as he remembered Gu Qiumian taking the initiative to apologize, he also remembered the latter half of the girl's statement after a brief pause, uttered quite reluctantly: "You don't know how to cook..."

Zhang Shutong hadn't understood her meaning at the time. If you didn't know how to cook, you could just go out to eat; buying a piece of pork liver wasn't going to change anything. But sitting here now in an empty home, shortly after a woman had asked if he had eaten—even though the pile of snacks weren't proper meals, with a cold steamed bun in his mouth and a growing hunger in his stomach—he suddenly grasped the purpose of that piece of pork liver.

Zhang Shutong carried the pork liver to the kitchen, sliced off a few pieces, tucked them inside a steamed bun, and took a bite.

He couldn't be sure if that was what Gu Qiumian had intended, but at this moment, that was how he chose to understand it. Involuntarily, Zhang Shutong glanced toward the south. The kitchen naturally faced southeast, allowing him to easily peer through the window into the night. The night was dark too, much like the pork liver sandwiched inside the bun.

After finishing his meal and lying back down in bed, he deleted the unsent message from his chat box.

Then Zhang Shutong turned off the light, hoping tonight would also be a peaceful night.

It had been so long since he experienced such a relaxed moment.

He didn't sleep particularly well that night, experiencing a vague dream whose details he couldn't quite recall. In the dream, he had returned to the provincial capital, walking along an elevated highway under the night sky, catching sight of a colossal Ferris wheel in the distance.

Lights glowed across the Ferris wheel, its cabins rotating slowly, yet its complete outline remained forever out of focus.

And so, in the dead of night, upon waking from the dream, he snapped his eyes open.

The bedframe was vibrating!

The ceiling was vibrating, the nightstand was vibrating, the wall switch was vibrating, the phone was vibrating, even his own hands were vibrating... Or rather, it wasn't them vibrating at all; the entire world in his vision was trembling!

His consciousness cleared instantly, heavy with shock. The entire world before him flickered like a black-and-white negative, trembling violently.

His awareness went blank, as if flying out of its physical shell.

Zhang Shutong was all too familiar with this phenomenon.

At the very last second, he sat straight up, his mouth opening in a soundless gasp, because—

The retrograde had triggered.

*

After a lapse of eight years, Zhang Shutong had once again returned to the island where he grew up.

—To attend a middle school classmate's funeral.

The funeral parlor was located in the southern part of the island, right next to the newly constructed ring-road around the lake.

Leaning against the roadside guardrail to gaze into the distance, on a clear day, the lake surface reflected a crystalline sky like a sapphire. The breeze would ripple across the water, carrying the clouds along with it, lifting one's spirits.

Today, however, the lake surface was iron-gray.

*

Zhang Shutong gazed at that expanse of iron-gray water in lingering, unbroken silence.

Writing up to this point, the foreshadowing for this book is finally complete. Monthly tickets requested.