Chapter 65: "Vertical Pupils" |
He unconsciously walked down the steps, dazedly extending his hand. Snowflakes danced in the wind, gently falling into his palm—the icy touch made him shiver.
It was snowing...
But why?
No matter how much this butterfly flapped its wings, it couldn't possibly change the weather, right?
Could it be that he hadn't undergone "Regression" but had jumped directly to another world line?
Parallel timelines?
Zhang Shutong hurriedly pulled out his phone to search for December 6th's weather forecast, but the local forecast made no mention of snow. Below the search bar was just this sentence:
"Sunny. As of 11:00 AM Beijing time, current temperature is -2°C. Expected high of 3°C today. Drink plenty of water, dress warmly, and be careful not to catch cold..."
But this reminder seemed incredibly eerie at this moment, sending chills down his spine.
No one around seemed to find this abnormal. Pedestrians walked briskly with their heads down. He stood still, feeling for a moment as if heaven and earth were spinning. The snowmelt flowed to his feet, branching out like tree limbs, gradually soaking the soles of his shoes.
He stepped forward through the fluttering snow, his pace quick. Zhang Shutong's gaze locked onto that milk tea shop where several of his close friends were taking shelter from the snow beneath the sign. Seeing him, they even waved:
"Over here, over here! We forgot to ask you—what flavor do you want..."
Zhang Shutong quickly steadied his breathing and casually named a flavor as if nothing was wrong. Ruoping asked how his stomach was, and he deliberately said he'd caught a chill. Ruoping nodded, saying today was indeed cold... Actually, Zhang Shutong wanted to know when this snow had started.
He chatted with them for a bit more, deliberately complaining that the weather forecast was really unreliable—it clearly said there'd be no snow today.
Weather forecasts these days really weren't that accurate, so this comment earned Ruoping's agreement:
"Exactly! My mom still pays to subscribe to weather text messages. I keep telling her they're not accurate. When we left school, wasn't it still clear? We just ate one meal and it started snowing..."
Zhang Shutong's heart jumped again. He knew Ruoping was wrong. To be precise, the snow didn't start during lunch but pointed to the moment he returned from eight years later—when everyone raised their hands saying "Cheers."
He probed indirectly about last night's events. What gave him relief was that the night they caught the poachers was still the same as before.
Zhang Shutong summarized the changes that had occurred since his regression:
The small friction at the restaurant—that was fine, it was because of him.
Gu Qiumian's menstrual period—it was because she caught a chill from the temperature drop.
Of course, ultimately it all came back to the snow.
If this were a parallel timeline, the weather forecast should have changed accordingly, but it hadn't, meaning it was still changes brought by "Regression."
This eerie snowfall left him without any leads. He could only silently note it in his mind as another matter surfaced in his thoughts:
Why was the regression point this time the gathering?
The first time he returned to Wednesday, the second to Thursday, so the third time... He certainly didn't hope for a third time, but following this pattern, would it be back to Friday?
But Zhang Shutong had another hypothesis. He still remembered the mechanism of "Regression":
If something bad happened around him, he would return to a critical juncture before the incident.
The key was in those last few words—
"Critical juncture."
This way, it might make sense. In the original timeline, because of the "scarf incident," his relationship with Gu Qiumian had hit rock bottom and remained unrepaired until her murder. He had no time to pay attention to either the commercial street conflict or the real culprit.
So he returned to Thursday afternoon, which happened to be when the monthly seat change occurred. The two of them had coincidentally become desk-mates, and he gradually learned more about her and her family situation. This "seat change" was the critical point for repairing their relationship.
What about this time?
Zhang Shutong wondered if it had something to do with this lunch. Had he missed some clue at Hometown Lake Fish Restaurant?
No, that wasn't right.
The commercial street was a direction that could now be ruled out.
He recalled the clues he'd brought back from eight years later. Several clues all pointed to Lu Qinglian, and on Thursday afternoon after lunch, he'd happened to run into her on the rooftop. At the time, he'd just felt annoyed that someone had occupied his little hideaway, so they'd casually chatted for a bit.
That had been his last extended conversation with Lu Qinglian, right up until that night before his regression.
If his previous judgment was correct and he should increase his attention on Lu Qinglian, could the critical juncture this time be the "rooftop conversation"? Had his former self overlooked something?
It seemed the direction forward was now clear.
Taking the milk tea from Ruoping, Zhang Shutong looked through the window one more time, deeply observing the man inside. He used his phone to photograph the man's face.
He'd originally planned to part ways with his friends since everyone had their own things to do—Du Kang was going to rent videotapes, Qingyi was going to borrow books... At least that's how he remembered it. But even that had been changed by the snow. No one wanted to wander around in the snow, so they simply rode their bicycles back to school.
After entering the school gates, Zhang Shutong apologized, left his bike, and hurried into the teaching building. He climbed the stairs in several steps, stopping at the end of the corridor.
The lighting here wasn't good. He raised his head, looking toward the entrance shrouded in shadow.
The rooftop again...
Zhang Shutong almost instinctively turned back. The winter afternoon sunlight slanted into the corridor, casting the shadows of window bars onto the terrazzo floor. But this time it was daytime, with a few students walking in the corridor. Hearing their footsteps, he confirmed that the empty night with the old movie playing had completely disappeared. It was buried in time along with that cold-blooded bastard.
In this moment, he felt somewhat distracted, but only for a moment. Zhang Shutong then climbed the steps and bent down to check the hidden key—as expected, it was gone.
Pushing open the rooftop door, this was a place closer to the sky. Within his line of sight, dust-like snow particles danced and fell. The cement ground was covered with a thin layer of white. A girl with her hair in a high ponytail sat alone at the edge of the rooftop, her head slightly tilted back, gazing at the falling snow before her.
A few white flakes landed on her silken dark hair, then melted away.
The world seemed to grow lonely.
Zhang Shutong stopped in his tracks. He thought of how the girl would remain almost as lonely on this small island afterward, until she ended her life.
But there was no time for him to reminisce so much. The girl reflexively turned her head, and seeing it was him, she withdrew her gaze:
"Are you looking for me?"
Lu Qinglian's tone was always indifferent.
This simple question triggered more thoughts in Zhang Shutong. Previously, he'd thought Lu Qinglian was quite narcissistic—he'd just come up to space out for a bit, so why would she assume he was looking for her? So he'd shaken his head and said it was nothing.
But hearing the same words now made him consider them for a moment. Why would Lu Qinglian ask this?
Back then, he'd chosen "nothing." What if he did the opposite this time?
So he nodded, saying he did indeed have something.
"If you have something, please say it quickly." The girl put down her chopsticks.
Actually, Zhang Shutong hadn't figured out what to say. Many things involved the future and were hard to broach. But he was getting used to it and went straight to the dream opening:
"Last night, I had a dream..."
"I'm not interested in what you dream about. Is there anything else?" Lu Qinglian was quite unfriendly. "If not, please don't disturb my meal."
"..."
Zhang Shutong was momentarily choked. Honestly, he couldn't figure out how he'd ended up hanging around with her in the second half of eighth grade. Did they compete over who could say less?
"Actually, you're the one looking for me, right?" He was too lazy to pretend anymore. "Since yesterday after school, when you said you had something important to tell me, then followed me fishing last night, paying attention to me intentionally or not throughout—why?"
Who knew this girl would start playing innocent? She said confusedly:
"Zhang Shutong, do you like me?"
"No."
"Then why are you being so self-absorbed?"
Zhang Shutong knew that if he answered "I'm not being self-absorbed," he'd fall right into her trap. You'd get caught in an endless back-and-forth with this penguin, and end up walking away dizzy, only to realize she'd essentially said nothing.
"Stop pretending." He said helplessly, coming to the edge of the rooftop and sitting down beside Lu Qinglian with some distance between them. "I'm the one who made a copy of the rooftop key. Yesterday, you were the one who came to me first. I came today to get a clear answer to that question. Is that explanation enough?"
"Zhang Shutong, you're a bit smarter than I thought." Sure enough, she even dropped the "classmate" suffix, and her whole demeanor became more mature.
"So what's the answer?"
"No comment."
"Can I understand it this way," Zhang Shutong suddenly asked, "you're looking for me not as a 'classmate' but related to my identity as the 'Temple Keeper'?"
As he saw it, the three tattoos—the snake represented Green Snake Temple, the little person represented the temple keeper, and the last irregular strange circle he hadn't figured out.
At least connecting the first two patterns meant—investigate the girl at Green Snake Temple.
He felt this question was sharp enough that an ordinary person would surely be at a loss for words, but Lu Qinglian calmly nodded:
"For now, you can understand it that way."
It had the flavor of an idiot delivering himself to the door.
Zhang Shutong resisted the urge to bite his cheek. He frowned:
"I don't understand what you're hiding?"
"No comment."
"Did I just guess correctly?"
"You can understand it that way."
Zhang Shutong sighed silently.
It seemed the approach was still wrong.
He glanced at the aluminum lunch box in the girl's hand, remembering how last time they'd chatted quite well about "boiled eggs."
He'd originally thought that just talking about everyday trivia was what caused him to miss important clues, so this time he went straight to the point, only to hit walls repeatedly.
After all, Saturday night when he'd run into her, she'd personally said "I'm looking for you." How come there was no "no comment" then?
So was their relationship not close enough?
He prepared to chat with Lu Qinglian about everyday matters and patiently asked what she was eating.
"Eating food."
"Your words are quite choking."
"I should say your question is too stupid." Lu Qinglian calmly picked up a ball of rice. "Or have you never seen rice before?"
"I mean what you're eating is quite poor."
"It's okay."
"I have packed dishes in my bike basket. Want some?"
"No need."
"How about milk tea?" Zhang Shutong simply handed it to her. "An apology."
"Apology?" She frowned slightly.
"For disturbing your meal." Actually, for leaving you on the island.
But Lu Qinglian didn't touch the milk tea. It stood alone between them.
Zhang Shutong asked if she'd go fishing again. Ruoping really missed her.
Lu Qinglian just shook her head.
"How about going to dinner together after school tonight with them?"
"Thanks, but I have other things."
Even with small talk, Zhang Shutong couldn't find anything else to say.
This was the first time he'd encountered a girl like this—she refused everything he asked.
It seemed hard to find anything that interested her.
Zhang Shutong had nothing left to say. He really didn't know how to chat with girls.
But then Lu Qinglian asked:
"What are you investigating?"
Zhang Shutong was startled.
"Last night, when you heard the police officer on patrol, you reacted too intensely, including with those two poachers."
Lu Qinglian turned her head to look directly into his eyes, her gaze full of indifference:
"Zhang Shutong, you've been beating around the bush from the start. So how about you answer my question first—
"What are you investigating?"
"Uh..."
He suddenly felt the girl before him becoming familiar.
No, even calling her a girl wasn't accurate. Although her appearance and age were so, Zhang Shutong once again had a strong sense of déjà vu:
That handsome woman sealed in a black-and-white photo frame eight years later reappeared before him. Her eyes were as still as an ancient well, without the slightest emotional fluctuation.
Yet inexplicably, Zhang Shutong was reminded of snakes. They remained motionless before hunting, but that didn't mean they were slow—they were always concealing themselves, waiting for you as prey to reveal a flaw, then striking to kill.
Lu Qinglian really was like a snake. "They" were cold-blooded creatures.
Zhang Shutong knew that last night when he'd just returned, he hadn't thought too deeply about the murder case. He'd been on guard against the killer, thinking it was the police, then the poachers, so he'd been on high alert.
No one had ever thought of or seen this issue. To say he wasn't surprised would be a lie. But Zhang Shutong then thought—what if he told Lu Qinglian the whole story right now?
Wouldn't that connect to his earlier question? He happened to lack something that would interest Lu Qinglian.
Perhaps the two cold-blooded people had reached a consensus through this point. Moreover, Lu Qinglian was quite capable in a fight. Maybe it would produce a wonderful chemical reaction.
The future's direction seemed about to be decided at this moment.
Just then, a snowflake landed on his eyelashes, making Zhang Shutong blink hard. He looked again at Lu Qinglian's eyes, which appeared a light amber in the light... Wait, eyes.
Could that circle represent eyes?
It was an irregular circle—rather than round, it was more elliptical. Otherwise, Ruoping wouldn't have jokingly said it looked like a turtle shell. At this moment, Zhang Shutong realized it really did look like an eye.
The interior of the circle was blank, containing nothing. If it was an eye, then it was an eye with nothing inside.
A snake, a little person, eyes containing nothing.
What were these three patterns connected together trying to indicate?
Zhang Shutong swallowed the words he was about to say, ultimately just joking with Lu Qinglian:
"Sorry, but I also have no comment."
He stood up, preparing to leave, and said to Lu Qinglian:
"Drink the milk tea."
With that, Zhang Shutong turned around. His smile faded as he pulled out his phone, finding his mother's number—she did geological survey work on the island. As he closed the rooftop door behind him, he had new leads for his next investigation.
The door closed, separating the wind and snow outside, and also separating a girl whose speech didn't match her age.
The stairwell became dark again. Zhang Shutong walked down the stairs. Through the door, a voice seemed to drift from another world, like a murmur, unclear who it was meant for:
"If you don't want an accident, it's best not to keep investigating my affairs."
Comments 1