Chapter 60: "Tattoo" |
Zhang Shutong finally realized what the problem was—
Why hadn't this island developed much at all?
Not only was Commercial Street still here, but as he'd walked along, the island's overall layout hadn't changed much either. The ferry without cabins, the single bus route, the desolate outskirts, the tofu-block urban area... According to Gu Jianhong's original commercial blueprint, wasn't he supposed to develop this place into a tourist attraction?
Where was the shopping plaza? Where was the resort? And where was the five-star hotel?
Why hadn't Gu Jianhong continued developing the small island?
Zhang Shutong hurriedly turned around. Ruoping and Du Kang had already gone inside.
The two of them were ordering food in the lobby. The place looked exactly the same as it had eight years ago—never renovated. The white walls were coated with a thick layer of greasy kitchen smoke, the wooden tables and chairs had developed a patina, the tables were covered with floral cloth topped with tempered glass, and even the glass was coated with oil stains that couldn't be wiped away. The proprietress was still that plump woman, smiling and chatting with Ruoping.
She said, "Girl, it's been so long since you came back. Girls change at eighteen, and you've gotten prettier and prettier." Ruoping smiled and said, "Auntie, you're getting younger too. I feel like you're more spirited than before." The proprietress said, "Oh my, your mouth is still so sweet. Auntie will add an extra dish for you later..."
Zhang Shutong had wanted to go over directly and ask about Commercial Street, but he couldn't get a word in edgewise and could only stand to the side and wait.
But nowadays splitting the bill wasn't popular anymore. Ruoping just stood with her arms crossed in front of the menu and casually named a few dishes. Only then did Zhang Shutong notice she was wearing high heels today—very much the style of a career woman.
Du Kang sidled up beside her offering suggestions, saying quietly, "Not that one, listen to me, change it to something else..." But she glanced at him and asked, "Are you treating or am I? Stop making noise, go find a table and sit by yourself."
Their relationship must be good, otherwise they wouldn't speak so casually. Zhang Shutong had wanted to take this opportunity to catch up with Du Kang, but unexpectedly, Du Kang looked at him once, then pursed his lips and headed toward the bathroom.
Zhang Shutong knew there was even less room for him to interject with Ruoping. He was about to find a table to sit at first when the proprietress also recognized him, smiling and saying, "Young man, Auntie still remembers you. Haven't seen you in so many years and you've gotten more handsome too. Do you remember that one time you didn't bring enough money to settle the bill, couldn't get through when you called your friends, and then someone..."
Of course Zhang Shutong remembered. This proprietress had quite a memory—she'd remembered the only time he'd been in an awkward situation. Being twenty yuan short really wasn't that big a deal.
But then he thought, maybe it wasn't him who'd made an impression on her, but rather when Gu Qiumian had said she'd treat. That young miss reached out a hand from behind him, and even though it was just a simple meal with four dishes, red bills fluttered lightly from between her fingers—composed and generous, stunning the lackey beside her and the proprietress too. He was just remembered incidentally.
Zhang Shutong could only nod and greet her.
When he pulled out a chair to sit down, he realized he'd unconsciously chosen the exact same spot—the day after the poacher incident, when they'd come here for a "celebration feast," they'd sat right here.
Of course, only he remembered such trivial details. Soon after, Ruoping pulled out a stool and sat across from him. Du Kang also came back from the bathroom. The two of them sat on one side, Zhang Shutong sat alone on the other—the closeness of their relationships was obvious at a glance.
Du Kang turned to call the proprietress to bring beer, and only after shouting did he ask Ruoping, "Can you drink today?" Ruoping said, "Who are you looking down on? Want to switch to the hard stuff instead? Whoever doesn't drink until they're under the table can't go home?"
Du Kang shrank back and said, "Forget it, I can't outdrink you." This time, the "hard stuff" they were talking about really was liquor. They were no longer fifteen or sixteen-year-old boys and girls laughing and fooling around, one clamoring for some "white stuff," the other like a female knight slapping the table saying "I'll take responsibility," then turning around to order four bottles of Nutri-Express.
Zhang Shutong poured himself a glass of plain water and drank it silently. He'd just unconsciously glanced toward the hall—several square tables were arranged neatly there. This time they weren't pushed together. Just like how there was no Nutri-Express here, and no girl drinking yogurt either.
He finally got a chance to gather intelligence. Zhang Shutong stood up to pour them both glasses of water. He looked around with feigned nostalgia and asked why Commercial Street was still here.
Outside, the sky had already darkened. Wisps of steam rose from the hot water in the white ceramic cups. Through the steam, Zhang Shutong watched their expressions, only hoping the upcoming conversation would go smoothly.
But the two exchanged glances and fell silent. Finally, it was Ruoping who broke the silence first. She stared at the tablecloth on the dining table:
"What else could it be? The big boss didn't want to invest anymore."
"The reason?" Zhang Shutong pressed.
But Ruoping didn't answer. Du Kang frowned at him:
"What exactly did you come here for today?"
Zhang Shutong didn't know either.
He thought he should have come to the island to attend Lu Qinglian's funeral, but he couldn't figure out who had notified him. He'd thought it was Ruoping because there was a call from her on his phone, but later when Zhang Shutong checked, he discovered that call was one he'd made to her.
Why had he really come back to the island?
And who had notified him of Lu Qinglian's death?
These two questions had no leads, and there wasn't even anyone he could ask. Obviously, the two people sitting across from him didn't know either.
Du Kang gave a cold laugh:
"What's the point of playing dumb now..."
But before he finished speaking, Ruoping slapped him and he shut his mouth.
Zhang Shutong could only lower his head and drink water. How had he become so universally disliked? Soon the dishes were brought to the table—it was stir-fried shrimp. Ruoping spoke up then, picking up her chopsticks and nudging Du Kang with her elbow:
"Your favorite. Stop spacing out."
But Du Kang muttered quietly:
"I told you this restaurant's stir-fried shrimp can't compare to before. It's gotten way worse. Besides, if I like it, can't I cook it myself? What's the point of wasting this money..."
"Can't I treat you if I want to?" Ruoping slapped down her chopsticks.
"Fine, fine, fine, you can, you can. You're the big sister, who dares disobey you..."
He picked up a shrimp and chewed it twice without much interest:
"See, it really is different from before. Try it yourself."
"Really? It looks exactly the same to me. Is it really that dramatic?" Ruoping skeptically tried a bite, then sighed after a moment. "Well, consider it a bad choice. Next time definitely..."
She swallowed the rest of her words. Zhang Shutong understood what she meant—there wouldn't be a next time.
He also picked up a piece but couldn't taste any difference. Of course, it might just be that his taste buds were rather dull. The three of them silently ate the shrimp. The restaurant wasn't busy today—just a scattered few tables of customers. Soon the second dish was brought up—candied sweet potato.
Ruoping tried a bite and didn't pick up her chopsticks again.
"I should have listened to you from the start," she said to Du Kang.
"That's what I said. It's not like I haven't come here these past years. I know exactly what's good and what's bad."
The beer had been brought up long ago. The proprietress had thoughtfully opened three bottles, but they just sat at the corner of the table with no one touching them.
Since the food was bad, Ruoping simply poured herself a drink and helped Du Kang pour one too. Seeing this, Zhang Shutong poured himself a little. The three of them held their glasses, lifting them just a centimeter off the table before simultaneously setting them back down.
Today wasn't an appropriate occasion to say "cheers."
They could only drink in silence.
Classmates who hadn't seen each other in years naturally had plenty to talk about. Soon Ruoping's cheeks flushed red. She was the first to start talking with Du Kang about Qingyi, saying that heartless bastard, whenever you ask it's always overtime—why doesn't he work himself to death? Du Kang laughed and said that's how men are, naturally work comes first... but at this point he fell silent too. The guy who was always talking about "men this, men that" was absent today. Although his understanding of men was quite off-base, when anyone present brought up those two words, somehow no one had more authority to speak than him.
Du Kang then said Qingyi wasn't chuunibyou anymore. He's a white-collar worker in an office building now, an elite science and engineering guy. One time when he came back to visit his grandmother, I invited him fishing. He said he really didn't have time—he had to catch a flight that evening. Came and left the same day.
They chatted about other people in their class too, deliberately avoiding Lu Qinglian's name. Some names Zhang Shutong found familiar, others he didn't remember. Du Kang suddenly said, "Do you still remember Li Yipeng? That son of a bitch just got out recently."
Ruoping asked, "What happened?"
He said Li Yipeng dated a college girl and got her pregnant. Her parents smashed up his family's shop, and then he got into a fight with his would-be in-laws. I was stunned when I found out...
Ruoping had just raised her glass to her lips. Hearing this, she laughed so hard she almost couldn't hold her cup steady. The lipstick on her lips got smudged.
Du Kang asked again how she'd been these years, whether she'd dated anyone, and to bring her boyfriend back sometime so everyone could check him out and help her evaluate him.
Ruoping then kicked him and said, "Fuck off, I don't need you to evaluate shit."
Du Kang asked with a grin whether she really had someone or was just too embarrassed to say...
The atmosphere at the table gradually warmed up. Ruoping was about to laugh and scold him when a voice suddenly came from across the table:
"What about Gu Qiumian?"
Zhang Shutong finally asked.
From the moment they'd started chatting about classmates, he'd been paying attention to this issue. By all logic, even people whose names he couldn't remember had come up—there was no reason Gu Qiumian's name would be missing. That young miss never lacked for things to gossip about. Besides, her conflict with Ruoping had been resolved, so there was no reason not to mention her.
But unexpectedly, this question made both of them set down their drinks at the same time, and the smiles on their faces gradually faded.
"What exactly are you trying to say?" Ruoping was silent for a while.
Zhang Shutong forced a smile and said it was nothing, he'd just suddenly thought of her. How was she doing now?
That's what he said aloud, but inside he was puzzled—could it be that they'd fallen out again and she'd become a taboo topic?
That couldn't be...
But Ruoping's brow gradually furrowed:
"Zhang Shutong, have you started going crazy after drinking a little?"
He instinctively looked toward Du Kang. Du Kang was also frowning. Zhang Shutong could only apologize, saying he'd run into some things recently—whenever he drank he started forgetting things and speaking incoherently. Don't mind him, he was just curious about what happened to her.
"I can't even tell if you're being passive-aggressive or if there's really something wrong with your brain," Ruoping's frown deepened. "What do you think happened?"
"What?"
"We didn't talk about her before to spare your feelings. If you don't care yourself, then I have nothing more to say." She slammed down her glass. "Oh right, I've been wanting to ask you—if you care about her so much, why haven't you visited her grave even once in these eight years?"
Her grave?
Eight years?
"She's dead?" He instinctively pressed, unable to care about appearing composed anymore. He was completely incoherent. "I... I really can't remember clearly now. My head is all confused. I'm not deliberately going crazy... When exactly did it happen?"
Ruoping stared intently at his face:
"It was our third year of junior high. What's wrong with you?"
Zhang Shutong was completely stunned.
Not just because of Gu Qiumian's death.
But because if Gu Qiumian had died in their third year, then who had he seen in the graduation photo?
Zhang Shutong hurriedly pulled the photo from his pocket, wanting to say, "Look at this girl wearing the red scarf—isn't that Gu Qiumian? There can't have been some supernatural event, right?"
When he'd looked at the graduation photo in the car, he'd noticed that red scarf. The girl in the photo had her chin tucked into the scarf, showing only most of her face. Because he'd subconsciously assumed Gu Qiumian had been saved, he hadn't looked closely. He'd spent more time trying to figure out his own situation. But now, pulling out the yellowed, blurred old photo again, he discovered that the face in the third row wearing the red scarf...
Wasn't Gu Qiumian at all!
It was a completely unfamiliar girl!
Wait, what the fuck kind of joke was this... Zhang Shutong's brain completely crashed. Or rather, in that instant, he thought of countless possibilities, and the various thoughts actually slowed down his thinking. Could it be that in this worldline, Gu Qiumian had completely disappeared? Been replaced by someone else? He was growing chilled to the bone, but then he remembered that Ruoping had clearly mentioned Gu Qiumian's name just now. So what was the reason?
Clutching the photo, he urgently asked:
"Then who is she?"
"A transfer student." Ruoping's expression became even more peculiar. "You're practically like you have amnesia or something."
"Transfer student?"
"She transferred in not long after Gu Qiumian passed away."
Zhang Shutong stared at the photo again, only belatedly realizing a problem. Graduation photos were taken in summer—why would a normal person wear a wool scarf in summer? He looked carefully and recognized that it wasn't a scarf at all, but a gauze scarf.
"So... so when exactly did she die?"
"That very day. How could you forget even that?"
"Which day?"
"December 9th, early Sunday morning." Du Kang suddenly spoke up coldly. "The day we caught Zhou Ziheng and his father."
Zhang Shutong abruptly stood up, knocking over the cup beside his hand. Scalding hot water spilled on his arm. His muscles reflexively made his arm twitch, but then he seemed to lose all sense of pain and just raised his voice:
"Sunday morning—are you sure it was Sunday morning?"
He felt a moment of dizziness. The lights in the hall weren't bright, but at this moment they made him feel sick. He confirmed once again that he hadn't misheard. Yes, it was Sunday morning, not Monday morning—
But this meant Gu Qiumian's death occurred on the night of December 8th to 9th, right when the regression was triggered. But this shouldn't be possible... Hadn't she gone home?
The two bodyguards from her house had come to pick her up. She'd taken a shower and called him from her room, saying they'd agreed to treat everyone to a meal on Sunday. So how could she have been killed at night?
Zhang Shutong suddenly felt his stomach churning. He threw himself back onto the stool, making a sound that drew sideways glances from people around them.
He squeezed two words through his teeth with a grimace, because if that were the case, he would never be able to forgive himself:
"The... nanny?"
But Ruoping shook her head.
"Then who was it?"
"Nobody knows." After a long silence, she said softly.
Those four words drained all of Zhang Shutong's strength. He reached toward his pocket, wanting to find that pack of cigarettes and light one... But at that moment, the burning pain in his arm reminded him there was something else to deal with. Zhang Shutong numbly took off his windbreaker. Ruoping passed him a napkin from the side. He knew he should say thanks, but he couldn't get any words out.
Under the windbreaker was a dark blue sweater, and under the sweater was a thermal undershirt. He rolled up the sweater sleeve, rolled up the undershirt sleeve, and instinctively took the napkin to press against his arm, but his movements suddenly froze.
Even his arm wasn't his own anymore... No, he should say his arm was also different from before—drastically different.
His forearm had more pronounced muscle definition, and on the inner side there was actually a tattoo. Zhang Shutong was stunned again. When had this been tattooed? Had the version of himself in this worldline not only been living miserably but also become self-destructive?
But too many things had shocked him today. Zhang Shutong silently glanced at the tattoo. He didn't want Ruoping and Du Kang to notice its existence, though the two had undoubtedly seen it. Still, it was better to cover it up. He wiped away the water stains on his clothes and was about to roll down his sleeve when Du Kang suddenly grabbed his hand.
His eyes had been fixed on the tattoo on his arm. He spoke with a complex expression:
"So after all these years, you still haven't given up on finding that person...
"The murderer who killed Gu Qiumian."