Chapter 73: Green Snake Temple |
"When you came to attend her funeral four years ago, I already told you not to take this matter too seriously, that you'd have to let go eventually..."
Funeral?
Honestly, Zhang Shutong was almost developing an allergy to that word.
He rapidly integrated the previous information. Known facts:
Old Song's ex-girlfriend died in a car accident;
She was from the island;
Old Song came to the island four years ago;
It was winter.
So the funeral the police mentioned should have been for his ex-girlfriend.
So Old Song's reason for coming to the island wasn't what he'd said about "finding a place to clear my head."
Funeral, winter...
Then what did Old Song mean just now when he said "thank you for your trouble"?
What business did he have with the police?
Could it be related to the car accident?
But didn't the accident happen in the city?
Zhang Shutong's forehead unconsciously knocked against the glass door. The icy touch brought him back to his senses. Without time to think further, he continued eavesdropping on their conversation. Disappointingly, the events from four years ago were glossed over like a dragonfly skimming water.
"How have you been lately?" the middle-aged police officer asked again.
"Same as always. Teaching, wandering around the island in my free time. Pretty carefree."
"You still shouldn't stay in such a small place."
"Eh, I've gotten used to living a peaceful life."
"That student just now—he looks familiar somehow?" The officer habitually glanced back toward the lobby. Zhang Shutong also dodged to the side.
From the corner of his eye, Old Song smiled bitterly:
"Oh, he probably came by last night. It's a long story..."
There was no need to keep listening to this. He'd suspected Old Song before, suspected that car accident was related to the Gu family. But Qingyi had specifically investigated later—the drunk driver from back then had already been sentenced. The perpetrator was someone else entirely, with no connection to Gu Qiumian's murder.
Zhang Shutong returned to the bench and checked his phone. Nearly 4 PM, probably midway through third period. He opened his messages again—still no reply from his mom.
Zhang Shutong thought of scenes from TV dramas. Could he take this opportunity to sneak a look at some case files?
But Detective Conan was a lie—he couldn't even find where the archives room was.
Even if he found it, Zhang Shutong had no desire to spend the weekend at the police station.
The warm indoor air made him drowsy. He seriously considered Old Song's suggestion—he really did need to visit Gu Qiumian's family villa. How long would it take to get from there to the Forbidden Zone? How many routes were there? Which way to go? He should take a car and scout it out first.
Today was Thursday.
Zhang Shutong realized his schedule was pretty packed. Best case scenario: discover something tonight, spend Friday preparing, then close the net Saturday night. That was roughly the plan.
Looking at the entrance again, Old Song and the officer had already stubbed out their cigarettes and brushed the snow from their shoulders. They were pushing open the door and walking inside.
No telling what they'd discussed, but the officer patted Zhang Shutong's shoulder: "Good work, young man."
After cracking that joke, he seemed to have other business and was about to hurry off when Zhang Shutong grabbed him. "Uncle, can I get your phone number?"
The middle-aged officer seemed puzzled but still gave him the number.
Besides "Officer Xiong," he saved "Officer Wang" in his contacts, like he was collecting stamps. He planned to ask about Old Song's affairs when he had time.
Zhang Shutong thought that if reputation values existed in real life, he'd nearly maxed out his reputation with the police station.
Old Song sat down next to Zhang Shutong and laughed:
"What's this about? Want to become a cop in the future?"
Zhang Shutong shook his head. He was actually pretty lazy.
"You just did a good deed last night, haven't even received your certificate of merit yet, and today you've done another. I just asked—though there's no cash prize, the school and police station can let you pick a small gift. Have you thought about what you want?"
Zhang Shutong was still thinking when things kept piling up one after another. Zhou Ziheng's mother arrived soon after. She burst into tears upon seeing Song Nanshan. Old Song found it quite troublesome—comforting her wouldn't help much, but maintaining a stern face was pointless either. Fortunately, the teaching director came to the rescue, telling the teacher-student pair to head back to school while he handled things here.
As they were leaving, the director instructed Old Song:
"When you get back, pay more attention to student Gu Qiumian's condition. I'm entrusting this important responsibility to you, Teacher Song..."
Old Song repeatedly agreed, practically wishing he could fly straight back to school. Once they'd left the station and walked some distance away, he stretched lazily:
"What a day, one thing after another... Come on, let's buy some water."
He returned to his usual talkative self:
"I didn't even eat lunch. Want to walk around? We're going back for fourth period anyway, a bit earlier or later doesn't matter."
The police station was located in the urban area, at the center of a crossroads. Across from it was a convenience store. Zhang Shutong remembered Du Kang's family restaurant was nearby.
Zhang Shutong didn't mind, but Old Song sighed, saying he'd almost forgotten Qiumian was still waiting. Never mind, never mind.
They went to the convenience store and bought two cans of Red Bull. Old Song also got four grilled sausages—the kind that kept rotating in the machine. He gave one to Zhang Shutong. He finished each in two or three bites, and by the time they reached the car, he was holding two bamboo skewers.
The Ford Focus started up again.
Old Song's mood was clearly different on the way back. He was about to turn on the radio when Zhang Shutong didn't give him the chance, saying directly that he had a few questions for his teacher.
"What is it? Go ahead."
"How much do you know about Lu Qinglian?"
Old Song was shocked again, even stopped eating his sausage, and said that draft paper really wasn't wrong after all. Your teacher originally thought you only liked Gu Qiumian, but it turns out you're eyeing another one too—wanting what's in the pot while eating from your bowl just won't do!
Zhang Shutong rolled his eyes. "First, I don't like Gu Qiumian. Second, I don't like Lu Qinglian either. Third, the draft paper really was an accident." Only then did he realize he'd held up three fingers, and remembered what Qingyi had said—even he hadn't noticed this habit.
Zhang Shutong put his hand down and changed his approach:
"I noticed her family's circumstances aren't very good. Do she and her grandmother usually rely on temple donations?"
But Old Song said not to change the subject.
Zhang Shutong was exasperated. He swore on the Focus that if he was lying, the car would stall right there.
Old Song said get lost, why are you swearing on my beloved car? But after studying Zhang Shutong's expression for a few moments and finding it didn't seem false, he said seriously:
"Probably, maybe with some government subsidies. Why are you asking about this?"
"I'm curious about her family's temple."
"It's alright, I guess. Just a small local temple. A courtyard with stone paths. Walk in and there's a main hall, with two side halls. To me, all these temples look the same—red walls, green tiles... Then there's a big fringe tree in the courtyard, and a rack where you can hang wish plaques. I even made a wish there once."
Zhang Shutong said he wasn't asking where the fun spots were. His point was, since it's called Green Snake Temple, where's the green snake?
"Just a big green snake. I'm not religious, so I'm not superstitious about it. Since I went, I paid my respects. Sincerity brings results, you know."
Zhang Shutong asked again:
"How did this Green Snake Temple come about? Why not some other kind of temple?"
He'd just searched it on Baidu and found a legend—the same one Lu Qinglian had told when they went fishing:
Once upon a time, there was a mountain. In the mountain was a temple. In the temple was a girl... No wait, there was a green snake. Legend has it that long, long ago, this place wasn't an island but a huge pit. Then the Green Snake God took up residence there, and its body formed the island.
Zhang Shutong even suspected Lu Qinglian had memorized it straight from Baidu.
He recounted this to Old Song, who also laughed:
"Just listen and forget about it. To put it harshly, it's all superstitious stuff. I heard the southern coastal areas have even more of this. A whole village can conjure up a temple."
"I remember two or three years ago, when you guys were in eighth grade, there was a national policy about relocating mountain dwellers to the city. Although her family's situation was a bit different, if they really wanted to, they qualified. Government people went to ask, and they called me along to mediate. But her grandmother refused. And this matter is quite complicated—their temple is actually a small tourist attraction. Quite a few people make special trips to visit. These past few years there's been a popular saying: 'Building cultural symbols to develop tourism together.' That Green Snake Temple probably counts as a 'symbol.' Many things overlapped, so it just fizzled out."
As Old Song spoke, he seemed troubled:
"What I'm actually worried about is something else. Qinglian staying at the temple all the time isn't good. Though as a teacher I should respect people's beliefs, eventually she'll need to attend high school, college, find work. She can't spend her whole life being a... being a temple keeper, right?"
Zhang Shutong thought to himself: Don't worry, without my interference this time, getting into high school shouldn't be a problem for her.
Zhang Shutong asked if there was anything else. Could you tell me more?
"Other things—I think we students probably know more about each other than I do. Does walking to school every day count? I once asked if she wanted me to buy her a bicycle, not expensive. She said no need. Oh, and there's a vegetable plot next to the temple, and they raise a few chickens. Qinglian once gave me a bag of eggs..."
These were all trivial household matters.
Zhang Shutong didn't want to hear this. He was actually asking Old Song if Lu Qinglian had any unusual traits.
After hearing all this, you could say everything was unusual, but that was relative to ordinary students.
Only now did he realize how little he'd known about Lu Qinglian. They'd been classmates for over three years, yet he knew nothing about her.
Zhang Shutong thought back and suddenly remembered that during parent-teacher conferences, they would write their names and place them on their seats. Before long, parents would find their respective positions, and students would crowd at the back of the classroom, giggling and whispering to each other... It would get as lively as dumplings boiling in a pot. Old Song would glare, and the troublesome students' parents would consciously turn around to look for their sons and daughters.
Lu Qinglian's seat was always empty.
So it was always awkward when reading out the grade rankings.
Lu Qinglian was consistently first place. Old Song would speak words of praise from the podium, and the parents below would look at each other, but no one would claim her. When they got to second place—usually Zhang Shutong's spot—his own dear mother would stand up with a beaming smile, accepting the surrounding applause with peace of mind.
Anyway, in student days, rankings on the grade list were the greatest honor. So many parents' dream, making them lament to their kids about "look at other people's children." But their class's first place had been absent for over three years. Even as middle school was nearly over, no one had seen what the top student's parents looked like.
Eventually the parents got used to it and automatically skipped that ranking, treating Class Four's grade list as starting from second place.
But Zhang Shutong couldn't figure out where Lu Qinglian went during those times. Did she stand at the back of the classroom with them? Or did she go to the roof alone? Or had she already returned to the mountain?
So he asked:
"What about her parents?"
Old Song scratched his head:
"That... I think they went out of town a long time ago. I never asked in detail. You know, sometimes whether you ask or not, the result is the same. Better not to ask."
It did seem that way.
At least her parents hadn't shown up at the funeral.
Zhang Shutong turned his head to look at the street scene outside the window. The road looked desolate. This small patch of land had always been like this. He'd only attended school here for four years before leaving. What if he'd stayed another eight years?
Or what if he'd spent his entire life in the same place, never even leaving the island?
In every timeline, Lu Qinglian had always remained on this island.
These eight years were just a blink for him, but placed on someone else, they were weighty years.
Then Old Song said:
"Actually, you two are quite alike."
Zhang Shutong nodded absentmindedly. "I guess. I might not talk much, but overall I'm pretty normal."
"Who are you calling abnormal? Are you saying Qinglian isn't a normal person?" Song Nanshan laughed and scolded. "I think you're making that girl out to be too complicated. Not just you—other students too. Her family situation is special, but she's still a kid your age, isn't she?"
Zhang Shutong said she was much more mature than ordinary kids.
"You're pretty mature yourself. What normal kid follows their teacher to the police station?"
Zhang Shutong shrugged.
"Think about it—why has Qinglian always been first in her grade?"
"Because she's smart."
"Wrong. It shows she loves learning."
This statement was oddly humorous.
But Old Song said seriously:
"I'm not joking. Though this isn't popular thinking nowadays, think about it—for you guys, school is a burden, like prison. You wish for vacation every day. But it's different for Qinglian. She has to get up at five or six every morning, rain or shine, spending an hour just commuting each day. It can't be for exercise. So I'm saying, now that family conditions are better, what you take for granted and find ordinary is an opportunity others work hard to seize."
Zhang Shutong was convinced. Thinking about it, it really was true. No matter what identity the girl played outside school, at least in her role as a "student," she'd always been conscientious.
Old Song continued earnestly:
"She's actually similar to you—not without desires. Can someone without any desires even be called normal? She's just particularly slow to realize it. Sometimes she doesn't even notice it herself."
Zhang Shutong asked puzzled, "Does she? Where am I slow? I've always been clear about what I want—just a normal life." But Old Song just chuckled and said nothing more.
Thus, the two made a trip to the police station and quickly returned to school. That's why Zhang Shutong couldn't understand what Ruoping and the others were so excited about, insisting on going together. Did they really think it was a good gig?
Zhang Shutong watched with disdain as Old Song used his greasy hands to push open the car door—he'd just finished the last sausage. They were about to head to the teaching office when Zhang Shutong's phone vibrated. It was from his mom—she'd finally gotten off work.
His mom wasn't one to beat around the bush. She told him to call her directly after school, saying typing was too troublesome.
Zhang Shutong told Old Song not to worry about him. He walked into the teaching building and found a spot sheltered from the wind to return the call.
It was currently fourth period. The lobby was empty, though he could hear teaching voices from the classrooms. But with school about to end, the classroom atmosphere had become quite restless.
"Hello? Son!"
A woman's voice suddenly came through the receiver. His mom's voice was incredibly loud—no telling why she was always so full of energy.
Zhang Shutong jumped, worried about disturbing other people's classes, and moved to the stairwell.
"School hasn't ended yet, has it?" His mom asked doubtfully. "Where are you?"
He explained the situation again. His mom laughed heartily, saying she really wanted to see which girl had captured her son's attention like this.
Zhang Shutong thought to himself that actually, you've already met her. You even wanted her phone number.
He stopped wasting words and got to the point, asking besides Commercial Street, were there any other suspicious targets?
"So that's why you suddenly asked me for the development plans. But aren't you worrying too much? Boys who are too clingy aren't popular with girls, you know?"
Fortunately, his mom was just teasing. She yawned:
"Alright, I'll treat it as finding something to do. But for places like Commercial Street, I really can't think of any others... How about I send you the planning map in a bit? Just be careful."
Zhang Shutong agreed. Just as he was about to hang up, his mom asked how he'd eat dinner.
He still needed to visit Gu Qiumian's house, planning to grab something quick outside school. But with today's snow, there were no street vendors, so naturally he couldn't get that weird bun. Fortunately, the rice bowl restaurant was still open.
Then a puzzled voice came from the phone:
"Huh? It's snowing?"
Zhang Shutong said she was really carefree—the snow had been falling all afternoon.
"I've been busy the whole time." His mom suddenly sounded worried. "Then I'll come pick you up right now. Don't leave yet."
Zhang Shutong said it wasn't necessary—his homeroom teacher would give him a ride home.
As for which home, Zhang Shutong didn't specify.
His mom said there was a down jacket in the third cabinet at home, don't forget to dig it out. Actually, never mind, I'll come home tonight and bring it to you tomorrow...
These conversations could go on forever. Zhang Shutong checked the time and told his mom school was ending soon, gotta go. He leaned against the stairwell railing and headed toward his classroom. No need to go back—he just looked through the hallway window and saw parents starting to gather at the school gates.
Many people stood by the electric sliding door, as if the moment they heard the dismissal bell, they'd immediately rush into the teaching building to pick up their children.
School dismissal, melting snow, a crowd of rowdy students and their parents...
He could already imagine how noisy it was about to get.
Zhang Shutong simply went to sit in the office. He found a disposable paper cup, poured some water, and just as he took a small sip, Boss Gu's planning blueprints came through.
His mom was really efficient.
But when Zhang Shutong downloaded the file and just glanced at the screen, his temples started throbbing.
This kind of thing needed to be enlarged even on a computer screen, let alone a small phone screen. There was a computer in the office—he wondered if he should borrow it, but blueprints were best kept private. Actually, his mom sending them to him was already somewhat against protocol.
So he frowned and squinted, moving the phone close to his face, feeling like he was prematurely entering old age.
Enlarging the blueprint to maximum, Zhang Shutong moved it bit by bit, first confirming north, south, east, and west, then rotating the phone, starting his search from Commercial Street.
Though the island wasn't large, now that it was condensed onto a phone screen, just locating Commercial Street took Zhang Shutong considerable effort.
The dismissal bell seemed to ring, but he paid no attention, waiting for Old Song to return while studying the blueprints.
Commercial Street, Commercial Street...
This thing was too hard to find.
He changed his approach, first looking for that shopping center, then sliding the screen along from the mall. Only then did he spot a street that fit the criteria.
Found it.
This location's future plan was also for a commercial street, connecting with the expanded mall to form a commercial plaza.
Zhang Shutong continued searching nearby.
People were coming and going around him, quite noisy. His buddies probably couldn't imagine he was sitting here. They'd actually already sent QQ messages, but Zhang Shutong had no time to reply—once he exited, he'd have to start searching from the beginning again.
He remembered hearing about commercial facilities—vacation resorts, movie theaters, hotels...
He looked through once—all in the suburbs.
Until he noticed a tower-like symbol.
A tourist attraction?
Zhang Shutong didn't remember hearing about building something like this before.
Gu-father had said he wanted to develop the island into a 5A-level scenic area. Zhang Shutong had always thought he meant relying on natural scenery. Turns out it was man-made?
But he couldn't tell what this was.
Seemed to be on the east side. The east side was all mountains.
He thought for quite a while, staring at the screen, studying which part of the mountain this was located in. He was about to screenshot it, thinking he'd just ask his mom directly.
But a cool voice suddenly came from beside his ear:
"That's Green Snake Temple."
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