Chapter 76: Gu Qiumian's Secret |
His eyes quickly adjusted to the bright light. The heating was turned up quite high inside, and the wind from the central air conditioning tickled his cheeks.
Following the principle of not causing trouble for others, Zhang Shutong bent down first to brush the snow from his pant cuffs. However, he wasn't in charge here—now that they'd arrived at the young miss's territory, everything naturally had to follow her arrangements.
"Put your backpack down first. Doesn't it feel heavy..." She carried her little boots and didn't forget to give instructions.
Zhang Shutong did as she said and put down his backpack.
"Take off your coat, or you'll catch a cold."
The young miss removed her scarf and issued another command.
He helplessly complied, thinking to himself how bossy she was.
"Hang it here." Gu Qiumian nodded her chin with satisfaction, pointing at the hooks on the cabinet.
Zhang Shutong felt somewhat flustered, but when visiting someone else's home, one should follow the host's customs.
Today she wore light gray pantyhose. With her boots off, only a thin layer of fabric remained between her feet and the floor as she stood on tiptoe searching for slippers.
Gu Qiumian muttered:
"Ah, hurry and help me get them, I can't reach. They're on the shelf's..."
Before she finished speaking, Zhang Shutong had already raised his hand over her head and taken out a pair of slippers from the second shelf—not too big, not too small, just right.
He knew the guest slippers were kept here.
Gu Qiumian froze:
"Did I finish talking just now?"
"I'm taller than you, I could see." Zhang Shutong teased her.
The housekeeper auntie just smiled as she watched the two at the door.
"This is Auntie Wu."
Gu Qiumian introduced her to him.
Zhang Shutong greeted her politely. The woman said there was no need to be formal, that they must both be frozen, and to hurry over for dinner.
The young miss commanded again:
"Don't forget to wash your hands..."
Zhang Shutong didn't need her reminder. He walked toward the bathroom with practiced ease, turned on the brass faucet, and moderately warm water arrived immediately, flowing over his skin, making him sigh comfortably.
In the sound of rushing water, Autumn Rain Lingering's expression in the mirror looked as if she'd seen a ghost.
"Did I tell you where the bathroom was?" She widened her eyes. "How are you so familiar with it?"
"Lucky guess."
Zhang Shutong laughed inwardly.
He thought to himself that he'd also "guessed" she owned a wine-red nightgown—if he said that out loud, wouldn't it scare her to death? But Zhang Shutong wasn't a pervert, so he only thought about it.
The two dried their hands and walked toward the dining room.
The bowls and chopsticks had already been set out.
Under a bright crystal chandelier sat an imposing square dining table. A quick glance revealed the marble surface shining brilliantly, large enough to seat eight people.
The seat at the head of the table was empty. Teacher Song and the housekeeper sat on one side, Zhang Shutong and Gu Qiumian on the other.
Dinner was quite lavish:
Milky white crucian carp soup, lotus root with spare ribs, meat-stuffed green peppers, crystal meatballs—not large portions, but all meat dishes.
Autumn Rain Lingering really was a carnivore.
The remaining two dishes were added later:
Tomatoes with scrambled eggs and scallion-fried tofu.
Zhang Shutong wondered:
How could a casual dinner at her house be better than eating at a restaurant?
Yet even so, as Housekeeper Wu ladled soup for everyone, she apologized to Teacher Song:
"It's a bit simple, please forgive us."
Teacher Song quickly took over the ladle, saying this was better than a week's worth of his meals, and that restaurant dishes didn't have this much care put into them—they were the ones causing trouble.
Zhang Shutong knew this was necessary politeness and thanked her after his mentor, taking the ladle from him.
"We should also thank Qiumian. Truth be told, we're both benefiting from Qiumian's hospitality." Teacher Song had very high emotional intelligence.
"Thanks for having me." Zhang Shutong's emotional intelligence was also high as he helped Young Miss Gu ladle a bowl of soup.
Gu Qiumian snorted, barely satisfied.
After a round of pleasantries, everyone picked up their chopsticks. Zhang Shutong took a crystal meatball—glutinous rice on the outside, meat filling mixed with water chestnuts on the inside. He'd only seen it on his phone before, never eaten it in real life.
Hoping his own mother would make such labor-intensive dishes was impossible. The old lady only knew how to stew. Zhang Shutong most feared her stir-fried dishes—either burnt or watery.
He took another section of stuffed green pepper. The savory-sweet sauce coating it was richly fragrant, the green pepper crisp and refreshing, the meat filling soft and tender.
After two bites, he stopped thinking about that bowl of duck soup noodles.
Sometimes you only long for something because you haven't had anything better.
The only difficulty was that he and Gu Qiumian kept "clashing."
Zhang Shutong only now discovered she was left-handed, and the girl was sitting on his right side. Young Miss Gu's family's chopsticks were ceramic, looked expensive, heavy and long. Their chopstick tips had already collided twice.
Zhang Shutong scooted his chair aside, but she wasn't happy about it and glared at him.
Zhang Shutong continued struggling to control these ceramic chopsticks. Sometimes when judging whether someone was wealthy, one shouldn't look at external things like cars, clothes, or bags, but rather at smaller life details.
Take dining utensils, for example. His family's circumstances weren't bad either, but their utensils were never organized into "sets." They just grabbed whatever was available and used it—sometimes a small dish, sometimes a bowl, sometimes a plate.
Looking at this dinner, each person had a soup bowl and plate in front of them, plus a small dish for spitting out bones.
These items matched the serving vessels in a complete set, with blue-tinted glaze and faint patterns. Even the chopsticks and spoons complemented each other.
And similar dining sets—Zhang Shutong had discovered while washing dishes that day—there were several more.
Then there was the chandelier overhead. Originally Zhang Shutong found it a bit glaring, but who would have thought that antique craftwork-like thing could actually adjust brightness and came with a matching small remote control.
Right now the lighting was soft, and the glaze of the dining ware shimmered with a translucent luster under its illumination. Exquisite, yet it didn't overshadow the colors of the food itself.
As Zhang Shutong ate his rice, he thought that while Autumn Rain Lingering usually kept a low profile, in truth they were very far apart—they'd always been from two different worlds.
The meal passed quickly.
Though the housekeeper's cooking was excellent, his material desires weren't high. No matter how delicious something was, he only tasted it moderately. After eating until sixty or seventy percent full, he set down his chopsticks.
Teacher Song wanted to eat more but couldn't. He muttered that if he'd known, he wouldn't have eaten those three grilled sausages to tide himself over.
And Gu Qiumian's appetite wasn't large today—she just sipped her soup on the side.
The housekeeper went to the kitchen to wash dishes, and the three of them moved to the living room.
Gu Qiumian asked if they wanted tea or coffee. Teacher Song waved his hand:
"You should rest early, I won't disturb you. Besides, I still need to take Shutong home, right Shutong?" As he spoke, he turned his head. "Wait, where'd he go?"
He discovered his beloved student had already disappeared.
Zhang Shutong was studying the villa's doors.
The front door had a password lock that could scan cards and fingerprints. Zhang Shutong felt breaking through from the front was unlikely.
There was also a side door—the villa's balcony was a massive floor-to-ceiling window facing the backyard.
Next to the floor-to-ceiling window was a small sliding door.
Outside was a corridor. He'd talked on the phone with Qingyi there before. Zhang Shutong unlocked the door and bent down to examine the lock cylinder.
If locked, it couldn't be opened from outside.
But as for how secure it was, it definitely couldn't compare to a security door.
Had they forgotten to lock the door that night?
Under the floor-to-ceiling window was a layer of solid wood platform. He kicked off his slippers and stepped on it—almost no sound.
"What the hell are you doing, kid?"
A bewildered voice sounded just then.
Looking back, Teacher Song and Gu Qiumian were staring at him in confusion.
Zhang Shutong said he wanted to look around. First time here, curious.
"Hey, are you leaving or not?" Teacher Song grinned.
"No rush, you sit for a bit, have some water."
Zhang Shutong casually replied and ran over to the elevator.
"Qiumian, look at this kid acting like he owns the place." Teacher Song crossed his legs and laughed.
Gu Qiumian pretended not to hear and irritably asked what he wanted to drink—should she pour it?
"Nothing, don't worry about me. Hurry and take him on the tour so we can leave early."
Hearing this, Gu Qiumian sighed and said he was such a hassle.
Saying this, she walked over to the elevator in a few steps. The girl put her hands behind her back and blinked:
"What are you up to now?"
"Can I go up and look?"
Gu Qiumian nodded and pressed the door open button.
The two entered the elevator. What Zhang Shutong noticed, however, was the noise when the elevator operated. Worthy of a high-end model for villas—there was almost no sound, only when the elevator doors opened and closed did it make any noise.
They arrived at the second floor and stepped onto that long corridor covered in dark carpet. Gu Qiumian said this floor had three rooms—one was her bedroom, one was the piano room, and one was a guest room.
"What about your father?"
"He's on the third floor."
Alright, Zhang Shutong couldn't understand wealthy people's quirks—a family actually didn't live on the same floor.
They said some expensive wool carpets had sound-absorbing functions. Even if not, this floor had been specially soundproofed. As the two walked through the quiet corridor, even their footsteps were completely absorbed.
Zhang Shutong walked in front. He pretended to wander aimlessly, but was actually heading toward Gu Qiumian's room.
After only a few steps, Gu Qiumian called out to stop him.
"What is it?"
"That's my room, you can't go there!" she said reproachfully.
"When we were parking earlier, I saw a window from the main gate. Is it from your room?"
Zhang Shutong thought for a moment, then said:
"When I was at the police station today, I heard the police say that Zhou Ziheng's father originally wanted to call people to vandalize your house. I was just curious—from which direction would they attack without being discovered?"
"Alright then." Gu Qiumian hesitated for a moment before slowly saying, "But you can only look from the doorway."
Zhang Shutong naturally agreed, then stepped aside to let Gu Qiumian walk in front. When she reached the door, she reminded him again:
"You're not allowed to go in, okay?"
Why would I go into your room for no reason...
Zhang Shutong thought helplessly.
Then Gu Qiumian pushed open the door and turned on the light.
As the lights came on and he looked around, the first thing that caught his eye was another floor-to-ceiling window. It turned out to be a balcony with a terrace, and the terrace was covered with a layer of snow.
Zhang Shutong remembered that night when Gu Qiumian had leaned out from the second floor to talk to him. So it was from the terrace.
Behind the floor-to-ceiling window sat a desk with a tidy surface holding stationery and materials, plus some girlish trinkets.
He wasn't interested in Gu Qiumian's personal belongings. Just as he was about to ask if the terrace was locked, he heard her cry "Ah!" Zhang Shutong was startled again, thinking there was an emergency. Before he could react, Gu Qiumian frantically pushed him away, rushed into the room, and slammed the door shut with a bang.
What was going on?
Was her low blood sugar acting up again?
Zhang Shutong was completely confused.