Chapter 59: The Worst Timeline (Bonus Chapter 2)

Ruoping, however, spoke like a machine gun, as if she had been holding these words in for who knows how long, growing more furious with every sentence:

"We were practically together every single day throughout the second semester of the fourth year of middle school. You kept claiming you had no interest in Lu Qinglian, yet behind our backs, you were with her. How did you expect us to feel? At the time, did you even consider how long Dukang suffered? On one side was his best friend, on the other was the girl he had a crush on—how did you expect him to feel?

"Yet he felt you were dealt a heavy blow after that incident, so he bottled everything up inside. I still remember the night he brought a bottle of liquor to find me and Qingyi. He was on the verge of crying, but he deliberately put on a terribly carefree facade, saying he was voluntarily dropping out of the race to let his sworn brother have her. I even scolded him, telling him he was never even in the competition, so how could he drop out... That's why no one blamed you back then, Shutong, but you shouldn't have turned your back and pretended not to know us the moment you graduated."

Ruoping seemed entirely consumed by her memories, continuing in a lonely tone:

"Her grandmother wouldn't let her go to high school, and we were all trying to figure out a way—going to the teachers, going to the school, going to the education bureau... You were the one who should have done this the most, but do you remember what you said at the time?

"You told us not to get involved, that you had already figured out a solution. Back then, I thought you were just like before—even though you loved playing coy and acting mysterious, you always managed to arrange everything properly. But close to the start of the term, we found out it was a lie all along. You lied to everyone. By the time we realized what was happening, the term had already begun, and the best window for mediation had passed. And you? What did you do? We kept thinking maybe you had your own unspeakable difficulties, waiting for you to give everyone an explanation. Didn't we agree to go to school in the town together? But when the term started, we discovered you had slipped away quietly and bolted straight to the city!"

"Fine! I can forgive you for the schooling matter, and I won't blame you for turning a blind eye to Lu Qinglian!" The more she spoke, the more agitated she became, pointing her manicured finger at the funeral home's gates. "But why did you have to lie to us back then? Do you have any idea that because of what you did, Qinglian spent her entire life—from birth until her passing—without ever stepping foot outside this small island? She spent her whole life trapped in that temple!"

"And then? What happened after that? Back then, we still believed you weren't that kind of person, thinking there must be some hidden reason. But when we rushed to the city, we found out you were together with that senior girl of yours!

"Now tell me, how do you have the face to say 'my condolences' to me?"

Zhang Shutong took an involuntary step back, completely at a loss for words.

He could only try to sort through the sequence of events:

Starting from the second semester of the fourth year, he had been glued to Lu Qinglian day in and day out. Judging by their words, it wasn't an ordinary friendship. Then, after junior high graduation, instead of going to the town high school, he had apparently moved to the city due to his parents' job transfers as he used to. Everyone had agreed to go to school in the town together, but not only did he break the promise, he had lied to all of them.

Not stopping there, Lu Qinglian's grandmother wouldn't let her leave the island for high school. Educational authorities could have intervened to mediate, but he had meddled and ruthlessly destroyed the girl's future.

And that wasn't even the end of it. Aside from turning his back on his friends, once he reached the city, he went off to date his senior schoolmate?

None of this made any sense. Leaving aside the fact that he had never felt any romantic affection for Lu Qinglian, simply looking at the timeline: starting from the second semester of the fourth year, he had returned in December, and the term started in February. Could he and Lu Qinglian have established a relationship in a mere two months?

True, he wanted to enjoy a normal life, but surely not like this. Furthermore, why would he run off to the city just to date a senior girl?

It was true that Zhang Shutong had once liked that senior, but after so many years, those lingering feelings had long since worn away to nothing. Asking himself honestly, this was simply not something he was capable of doing. Yet, as he tried to defend himself, he suddenly remembered the chat history he had just seen on his phone—he had been chatting with a woman named "Su Yunzhi" just last night. What on earth was going on?

Had he completely transformed into a different person in the span of just two months?

What baffled him most was his relationship with Lu Qinglian. She wasn't his type at all; he would date anyone before dating her. And why on earth would he harm her?

Yet Dukang had been on the verge of losing his temper just now, and Ruoping's eyes had turned red as she spoke. Surely his closest friends had no reason to lie to him... But could they truly still be called best friends now? Zhang Shutong thought with a sudden sense of desolation. He had assumed that after getting a second chance, he would cherish these relationships all the more—especially when he found their numbers in his address book, feeling a faint wave of joy in his heart.

Yet looking at it now, how was this worse than the original timeline? Back then, they simply hadn't been in touch for a long time, but childhood playmates still felt a sense of closeness upon meeting. Now, one was missing, another was practically an enemy, and the third, though willing to speak a few words, possessed a completely unfamiliar tone.

How had things deteriorated to this extent?

Zhang Shutong lit another cigarette, finally beginning to understand why his present self had developed a smoking habit.

His life remained unchanged; he was still that same person who deliberately isolated himself from the outside world...

His closest friends had become strangers...

Lu Qinglian had ultimately passed away anyway...

One could say everything was an absolute mess.

This life was turning out even worse than the last. What on earth had he actually changed?

Ruoping dropped a cold sentence, "Calm yourself down," and turned to walk into the funeral home.

Zhang Shutong watched her leave and stood in place for a while longer. Gazing at the leaden-colored surface of the lake, he slowly slid down the railing and squatted on the ground.

A moment later, Ruoping emerged from the funeral home again. Standing some distance away, she suddenly tossed something toward him. Zhang Shutong instinctively caught it—it was a set of car keys.

"Take these and wait in the car. Don't embarrass yourself out here," she frowned. "And don't smoke in my car."

Just as Zhang Shutong was about to thank her, she had already gone back inside.

Clutching his chilled and stiff body, he pulled open the door of the SUV. A faint fragrance drifted inside. Sitting in the front passenger seat, Zhang Shutong tilted the seat back slightly.

He stared at the car's headliner, utterly exhausted in both body and mind. To be honest, he really wanted to just fall asleep right now and forget about everything, but that was escapism. At the very least, he needed to figure out what had happened.

He found Qingyi's number, his finger hovering over the call button, when a man roughly squeezed into the car. He turned his head to look—it was Song Nanshan.

Though his hair was meticulously slicked back, his opening words immediately gave away his casual nature:

"You know what, Ruoping really knows her cars," old Song patted and stroked the interior, praising, "Toyota makes good cars indeed. They just won't break down."

Zhang Shutong had no mood to ask where his old Ford Focus had gone. He put his phone away as old Song asked, "Are you two bickering again? Grown adults still fighting like children."

Right. Grown adults still bickering. Or perhaps the word "bickering" had no place in the adult world.

Old Song kept rambling on, chatting from Japanese cars to American cars, from luxury German brands to economy cars.

Zhang Shutong wasn't sure what the teacher was trying to say, but having someone chatter in his ear wasn't a bad thing right now. He simply kept his mouth shut and patiently listened to his former homeroom teacher.

"Shutong, being this disheveled doesn't look like you."

Song Nanshan said abruptly.

Zhang Shutong was momentarily stunned, thinking to himself that the teacher was mistaken this time—actually, he hadn't lived a good life all these years, and the only time he wasn't disheveled was probably those four days, which had all been etched into his memory.

Song Nanshan seemed to let out a sigh of relief, a nostalgic expression crossing his face:

"I still remember how you performed that night. Remember? The time the two of us went looking for that van. It was also winter, not long ago it seems, and it was raining. Both of us were soaked to the bone, I was so anxious my face turned pale, but you—you had everything arranged..." I didn't want to bring it up, but in your teacher's heart, you've always been impressive. Stop beating yourself up."

Zhang Shutong silently parted his lips, wanting to apologize to him, to say he wasn't as impressive as the teacher thought, and that he seemed to have truly failed everyone's expectations, even if he himself didn't understand how things had reached this point.

"You are the teacher's proudest student."

The homeroom teacher added.

Song Nanshan patted his shoulder, looking exactly like he did back when he used to teach him how to pursue girls. Reaching into the inner pocket of his crisp suit, he pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to him. It turned out to be a photograph:

"This is our graduation photo from back then. You didn't want it at the time, so I kept it for you. Since I happened to bring it along this time, thinking we might cross paths, take it."

With that, he stepped out of the car, tossing out a parting joke before leaving:

"I covered the cost of developing the photo. No need to pay me back."

Then the car door slammed shut with a heavy thud. Like a sharp swordsman, he seemed to have spoken at great length, but the only things he truly wanted to say were contained in three sentences—much like drawing a sword and swinging it countless times, when only three strikes were needed to seal an opponent's fate.

Inside the enclosed space, Zhang Shutong silently accepted the photograph.

It was their junior high graduation photo, topped with a banner reading "2012 Class of Elite Middle School Graduates."

Old Song had pulled up a stool to sit right in the middle of the front row. Being the homeroom teacher, he sat with his legs sprawled wide apart.

Self was on the far right of the fourth row, surrounded by his best friends. Dukang was striking an exaggerated pose, Qingyi's chronically deadpan face wore a hint of a smile, and Ruoping was standing just behind him and Qingyi, holding up peace-sign "bunny ears" behind their heads. Caught in the act just as he turned back to roll his eyes at her, the camera had snapped the exact moment.

He saw Lu Qinglian again, standing at the very back, expressionless as ever, yet still possessing the look of a young girl—or at least, it was a color photograph... Holding this photo in his hands after a lapse of eight years, these familiar faces were actually the appearance of them he knew best.

The surface of the photograph had grown slightly tacky; deep down, old Song was still that rough-hewn man from back then, and his memories were as viscous as water. Zhang Shutong leaned back against the passenger seat, staring at it in a trance.

He had no idea how much time had passed. The sky gradually grew dark, and he heard voices outside the car window. It turned out to be old Song, draping an arm around Ruoping and Dukang's shoulders as they walked over.

Old Song said with a laugh, "All right, all right, what are you young folks doing lingering around a funeral home? Before it gets dark, hurry up and go grab a meal. You used to be so close you were practically glued together, sharing a pair of pants. Since you haven't seen each other in all these years, just spit out whatever grievances you have against each other and get thoroughly drunk together."

At that, Ruoping sighed, seemingly reverting to the fiery young girl of yesteryear who used to get daily headaches dealing with the three boys. She opened the car door. Dukang looked a bit reluctant at first, but withered under a glare from Ruoping:

"Why are you acting more finicky than me?"

With a sour expression, Dukang climbed into the back row, making sure to leave a seat for old Song. Back in the day, the homeroom teacher used to drive that little Ford Focus and ferry the four of them around, everyone squeezed together amid the smell of cigarette smoke; now, the roles were reversed.

Song Nanshan, however, declined, "I won't go, otherwise having a teacher around will cramp your style. Tonight, whether you want to cry, laugh, fight, or curse, just enjoy yourselves."

The three of them ultimately got into the car. Ruoping had taken the wheel as a capable driver, steering the SUV onto the ring road. The scenery outside retreated rapidly. Glancing at Dukang through the rearview mirror, she broke the silence:

"Your place?"

"My restaurant is closed for a few days," Dukang muttered. "The usual spot."

Ruoping nodded and fell silent again.

Everyone knew what "the usual spot" meant. Zhang Shutong exchanged a few words with Ruoping and rolled the car window down just a crack. Beyond the edge of the road lay the lake, and as the breeze swept over him, he fancied he could see the backs of four young boys sitting by the shore, fishing.

The car entered the urban district, where private cars on the island had grown noticeably more numerous. The town was slightly more prosperous than it had been eight years ago, but only slightly. The three of them knew these streets inside out; Ruoping navigated several shortcuts, occasionally tossing a clarifying question to Dukang when she was unsure. Finally, the car slowed down at the entrance of the commercial street. True to form, there weren't many people out today, maintaining its usual desolate atmosphere.

The SUV could drive right in, finally coming to a halt outside "Jiananhufu Restaurant."

Zhang Shutong unbuckled his seatbelt and stepped out of the car, looking around at the surrounding storefronts. This street was much like before, mostly consisting of two-story shopfronts, yet almost all the businesses along the street had changed entirely.

The rainy night when he and the homeroom teacher had plunged into the rain to search for the van was still fresh in his memory, but now, he could no longer find that millinery and scarf shop.

"Be content, city boy. What kind of high-end establishment were you expecting? You should be grateful this fish restaurant hasn't gone out of business yet," Ruoping sniped at him upon seeing him lingering outside, before dragging Dukang inside to order.

Yet upon hearing her words, Zhang Shutong's heart gave a violent twitch.

He finally realized where the lingering sense of incongruity he had felt ever since turning back time was coming from:

Why was this commercial street...

Still here?