Chapter 85: "Hostage" |
"A snake?"
It really was a snake.
Zhang Shutong's heart jumped violently.
"How are things on your end?" he asked urgently.
"Don't panic. I've seen plenty of these snakes before—there are quite a few on the island. Don't forget what your mom does for a living," his mother replied in her casual tone. "Blue-black color, with some patterns on its body. Let me think... I attended an ecology lecture once where someone talked about it. It's some kind of colubrid snake, has a subspecies on the island, what was it called... 'lian snake'?"
This description basically matched what he'd seen last night.
"Chain snake?"
As Zhang Shutong spoke, he opened his browser and searched. It was a very common type of snake. Though he couldn't immediately find the one discovered outside the villa, at least he now knew what kind of creature it was.
"Not venomous?"
Zhang Shutong just reminded her to be careful. His mother said she needed to drive, so he hung up with a furrowed brow.
Before he knew it, he'd walked to the side door. Looking through the floor-to-ceiling windows toward the backyard, he saw Auntie Wu feeding the dog. Zhang Shutong didn't know if this dog that had been so easily poisoned was reliable, but he hoped it could be of some use.
He went outside and suggested that she could tie the dog near the gate in the fence—that way if anything happened, it could at least bark a few times.
But Auntie Wu quickly stood up, waving her hands to tell him not to come closer. Zhang Shutong stopped in his tracks, and only then did the woman explain that this dog was quite fierce and only recognized Mr. Gu and Mianmian. "At first, even when I fed it, I had to stand far away."
Sure enough, the big dog stopped eating and crouched low, its eyes with almost no whites fixed on him, a low growl squeezing from its throat.
"This is an old dog," the nanny said, stroking the Doberman's head. Only then did the big dog close its eyes in enjoyment and drop its guard. "It's been around since Mianmian was very small, so Mr. Gu brought it here not expecting it to do much work—he's just a bit sentimental about it."
Fine, making such a loyal old dog stand guard in the snow really would be a bit cruel.
Zhang Shutong said nothing more. When he entered the living room, he found that Gu Qiumian had already left, though the TV was still on, playing to an empty sofa.
Looking toward the elevator, the display screen showed "2." He thought to himself that he'd caused trouble again, but this time wasn't like before, when he could solve the case with ease while also taking care of the young lady's feelings.
Just then, cheerful laughter came from the TV. Handsome men and beautiful women were gathered together—he noticed it was still playing Tricky Brains. They hadn't been able to finish it yesterday, so today it was playing from the beginning.
But even playing it again, it was destined to have no audience.
Zhang Shutong just sighed, quickly put on his shoes in a few steps, and thought about what the snakes meant.
Snakes again.
Was this also a change in the "timeline"?
Or had they always been there, just undiscovered back then, happening to be exposed during this heavy snow?
Zhang Shutong knew there were no snakes near his home. Now snakes had been discovered in two locations: his own house and Gu Qiumian's house. In this murder case spanning eight years, both of them were at the center of the vortex—this could no longer be called a coincidence. To confirm this, he'd even sent messages to each of his friends, asking if they'd seen any snakes recently.
The answer was no.
The three of them discussed it, and Du Kang actually wanted him to take a photo of a snake for him to admire.
But he didn't have time for that right now.
This recent discovery had undoubtedly strengthened his resolve to go up the mountain.
He couldn't wait any longer. It would take half an hour to walk down the mountain road, so he hurriedly grabbed his coat and found Teacher Song.
"You're leaving already? Should I go down with you?" The adult's concern was predictably consistent.
"I'll go myself. Teacher, you'd better stay here," he explained. "Now that the road is blocked off, if you leave just the two of them here and there's some emergency, it'll be hard to get back in time."
"Alright then," Teacher Song hesitated a bit. "In that case, send me a QQ message every ten minutes... no, every five minutes, until you get in the car."
Zhang Shutong nodded in agreement. He asked Teacher Song to also let Gu Qiumian know, then was about to run out the door when the man called out to him:
"Shutong, don't forget to put this on. Never mind how it looks—staying warm is what matters."
He turned around to see Teacher Song lifting that black down jacket from the sofa. But the jacket had clearly been put away in the closet—how had he found it?
Teacher Song insisted on watching him put it on.
A mentor is someone who nags when you're down, acts silly when you're gloomy, and shows up whenever you're having a breakdown.
Zhang Shutong carelessly pulled on the slightly short jacket, waved to the man, and pushed open the front door.
But lately he kept experiencing one farewell after another. Leaving wasn't going smoothly—he happened to run into the nanny returning from feeding the dog at the entrance. Auntie Wu was very surprised, asking why he was suddenly leaving, whether something wasn't to his liking.
He didn't know how to explain. Instinctively turning back, he saw that Teacher Song had also gone back inside. The TV was making noise, the living room was empty and spacious, freshly brewed tea sat on the coffee table—it had been hot not long ago, but now the person had left and the tea had cooled.
It was a quiet but leisurely morning. With heating indoors, there was no need to dress too warmly—an undershirt was enough. The most suitable activity was to sink lazily into the sofa, holding a teacup and dozing, reading the newspaper or watching a movie would be blissful.
On days like this, children didn't need to go to school and adults didn't need to go to work. Almost all social activities ground to a halt. No one wanted to run around outside, not even the most hardworking office workers. Even the Doberman had to lie in its little den to eat.
Zhang Shutong wasn't really such a complete idiot. He turned his face back around, somewhat at a loss for words. After thinking it over, he could only say that she shouldn't blame herself—actually everything was quite comfortable. The food was delicious, Auntie Wu was very welcoming, the bed was comfortable, the villa was spacious...
It's just that this kind of life isn't suitable for me.
He said goodbye to Auntie Wu again. She helped him open the gate, saying to come back and visit when he had time. Zhang Shutong nodded, though he hoped he wouldn't return here again.
Outside was of course very cold. He couldn't help tightening that down jacket, but it was a thin women's style and didn't help much. On his feet were sneakers, and after just a few steps he felt his socks getting wet as ice-cold snow water began seeping in. But he'd deliberately not changed into rain boots—though boots were waterproof, they were a size too big and would slow down his progress through the snow.
He figured he could change clothes once he got home, so he'd just make do for now.
He was someone who'd long been used to making do.
Making do with food, making do with clothes, making do with everything. So Zhang Shutong tucked in his pant legs, then stomped his feet vigorously in place. Supposedly this promoted blood circulation—he'd seen it on some public account or other, but if public accounts were reliable, they wouldn't be just public accounts.
Running would make it a bit better. He then quickened his pace, telling his mother he was setting out. A long string of footprints was quickly left in the snow.
Zhang Shutong only focused on moving forward and never looked back, so he wouldn't notice whether the curtains on the second floor had been pulled open.
He soon walked out of the small path in front of the villa. The vast white snow made it hard to judge distances—all living things seemed insignificant against heaven and earth. He finally reached that mountain road, supporting himself on the mountain stone as he carefully took each step. Looking up, the mountainside was also covered in a layer of white. He wondered if shouting loudly would trigger an avalanche.
Better to be careful.
Zhang Shutong still remembered the general condition of the road surface and chose the safest route. Actually, walking on it wasn't bad except for the cold—not like a car, which could lose control and rush off the road with one careless moment.
He kept track of the time. After five minutes passed, he took out his phone and sent Teacher Song a QQ message.
This stretch of road was particularly long. Everything around was quiet—white snow was the best sound insulation material. He still remembered last night's pit and would be in trouble if he fell into it, so he deliberately took a detour.
Soon the second five minutes arrived.
He'd still overestimated these sneakers. The muscles in his feet began to spasm. Zhang Shutong knew what cold hands felt like—they just made you want to hide them as quickly as possible, whether tucking them in pockets or bringing them close to your mouth to breathe on them, there was always someplace warm to go. But feet? Nowhere to hide.
It reminded him of little people hopping on a heated iron plate, but he couldn't stop now—the more he stopped, the colder it would get.
However, as he walked, he stepped on something hard again.
Zhang Shutong's heart sank. He crouched down to dig it out and look—it was another frozen snake, its body arched up in a comical appearance, as if it had maintained a forward-moving posture just a moment before.
This time it was daytime, so he could see more clearly. This snake's eyes were open, its red vertical pupils dull and lifeless. Zhang Shutong felt a bit creeped out. He looked up blankly—before him stretched endless white.
How many snakes had this heavy snow buried?
Right now he was on a deserted mountain road, with a tall mountainside to his left and a steep cliff to his right. The road was silent.
But if the snow melted, would it reveal the road densely packed with snake bodies?
Were they traveling in groups toward the villa?
Zhang Shutong shuddered.
Just then his phone vibrated. It was Teacher Song calling—Zhang Shutong only then noticed that the third five minutes had already passed.
"What's the situation on your end?" Teacher Song asked urgently.
"Nothing..." Zhang Shutong replied in a low voice, continuing to move forward. "I just saw another frozen snake."
"There are so many of these damn things?"
"Yeah, it's a bit eerie. You all be careful, keep the doors and windows closed."
Zhang Shutong hung up.
He even began to wonder how that dog had died originally, and whether it had anything to do with snakes. Venomous snakes? But on Friday evening, he'd clearly discovered ham sausage pieces outside the fence. Zhang Shutong couldn't be wrong—he trusted his memory. Even so, he instinctively wanted to find someone to confirm it with.
But there was no one who could corroborate his story.
Teacher Song had "seen" it but no longer "remembered" it.
During the fourth five minutes, Zhang Shutong stopped. He carefully walked to the edge of the road and estimated the distance. Looking up from here, he could no longer see the villa's outline—probably about a third of the journey remained, about what he'd expected.
His feet had gradually lost all sensation.
It was only a twenty-minute journey that would barely count as a warm-up normally, yet this time it was incredibly difficult. Right—walking in snow actually wasn't romantic at all. The warmth he'd brought from the villa had been completely consumed, but Zhang Shutong knew this was just the beginning, that he hadn't even gotten far from the starting line.
—He still had to go up the mountain later. The path would be even harder to walk then, with more variables. His only regret was not wearing sunglasses. When moving forward he had to focus intently on the road beneath his feet, but staring too long made his eyes lose focus, leaving his vision a blinding white that made him dizzy.
He rested in place for a moment, breathing in small gasps. After reporting in on QQ, Zhang Shutong set out on the final stretch.
His brain had always worked well. He'd learned to drive quickly, and even walking he could slowly figure out the tricks. He didn't know why, but the snow was a bit thinner in the latter half. What he'd estimated as a ten-minute journey took only just over six minutes before he could see the entrance to the mountain road in the distance.
Almost there.
At this point he should have felt somewhat relieved, but Zhang Shutong froze in place again, a chill rising from his spine.
A string of footprints...
Of course not his own...
Rather, in this pristine, flawless expanse of snow, ahead in his field of vision, there was actually a string of footprints.
Footprints!
The string in his brain instantly tightened. He looked left and right, but there was no one around. Zhang Shutong wasn't shocked at discovering human traces in this place, but rather at...
Who was that person?
What were they doing here?
Who would come to the mountain road during a heavy snowstorm, then walk upward, when the road's endpoint happened to be a villa?
He couldn't catch his breath anymore and hurriedly ran to the footprints, crouching down.
The footprints weren't clear, trampled messily. He investigated along the trail of footprints. The starting point was right at the entrance, and the endpoint... he confirmed again and again, making sure he hadn't seen wrong, that it wasn't an illusion from eye fatigue:
Because the footprints actually disappeared directly at the edge of the road!
Could it be that they turned back after reaching here?
That could be the only explanation.
No matter what, he hadn't discovered any footprints in the first half of the road, meaning at least the person hadn't gone up—this was the only good news among countless pieces of bad news. But why had they gone back?
Scouting in advance?
Zhang Shutong crouched by the footprints, brow furrowed.
He closed his eyes and simulated the route:
Someone had entered the mountain road entrance, walked for about two or three minutes in the snow—the footsteps were dense, indicating a fair speed—then the person had looked at the edge of the road and finally chose to give up...
Wait, could it be...
Zhang Shutong suddenly had a flash of insight and dialed Teacher Song's number.
"How's it going, in the car yet?"
"Not yet." Zhang Shutong spoke quickly. "Just confirming something else—when the auto repair shop person came to deliver the tires this morning, did he get out of the car and walk a bit?"
"I didn't ask about that. What's wrong?"
"I just discovered a string of footprints at the entrance, heading up the mountain."
Teacher Song seemed to realize the implications:
"Alright, hang on, let me ask him."
Zhang Shutong hung up and studied the footprints again.
He held his shoe up to compare and found the prints were a bit smaller than his own. He'd forgotten what size shoes he wore in middle school—probably 39 to 40?
Just then the phone rang back. Teacher Song said:
"I asked. He did walk a few steps up into the snow—otherwise how would he confirm the car couldn't go up? Don't overthink it, everything's fine on our end..."
"That's good then."
Zhang Shutong finally breathed a sigh of relief.
His phone vibrated again—it was a message from his mother saying she'd been delayed on the road but would arrive soon.
He replied with a "okay."
Zhang Shutong had just been wondering how he'd already run down from the mountain, and even driving slowly in the snow, she shouldn't still not have arrived.
Good that she was coming soon.
He returned to the mountain road and found a sheltered spot.
He'd wanted to lean against the stone wall to rest, but then remembered this jacket wasn't his and he couldn't just treat it roughly. If he scraped against some protruding rock and tore it, that would be a bit troublesome, so he simply continued standing.
While waiting for the car, he didn't hang up the phone but asked Teacher Song how things were on their end.
"It feels a lot quieter after you left," Song Nanshan muttered. "I'm just sitting in the living room watching TV. No one's fighting me for the remote either—actually it's pretty comfortable. The nanny went upstairs to clean your room, and Qiumian seems to be staying in hers... Oh, I just called her to let her know you left first. She said 'mm' and hung up. Why didn't you tell her yourself?"
Actually Zhang Shutong didn't know how to tell her either. He looked up at the sky—there were no clouds today, the daylight bleak:
"Let's save the goodbyes for next time."
This suddenly conceived line was quite suave—he'd have to share it with Qingyi when he had time.
Teacher Song laughed and cursed:
"What are you trying to be cool for right now? No wait, you can't even call this being cool..."
Whether it was cool or not didn't matter. He really did want to save the goodbye for next time.
And when next time came, he'd hopefully save it for the time after that... until the matter was resolved.
Just then a horn sounded in the distance. Zhang Shutong looked back to see a black RAV4 slowly stopping by the roadside.
His mother had finally arrived.
Teacher Song also heard the horn honk over the phone and finally breathed a sigh of relief:
"Need me to say a couple words to your mom?"
"Better not."
"Alright then, your teacher will continue watching TV. Contact me if anything comes up."
The two hung up. Zhang Shutong hadn't yet run toward the car when a woman wearing sunglasses got out first.
His dear mother was indeed wise, knowing to wear sunglasses when driving in snow, while he'd nearly run all the way down only to notice when his eyeballs were aching.
Zhang Shutong was quite happy to see her. Last time they'd only chatted briefly before he regressed, but no matter how many times he regressed, this woman's significance to him was always unique, never diminished by the passage of time. Perhaps this was the power of blood relations?
But while he was happy, flashing a big smile, his mother wasn't:
"Why didn't you say anything before running down by yourself?"
The woman lifted her sunglasses, eyes glaring.
"I just... wanted to get some exercise."
His mother couldn't be bothered with the nonsense:
"Get in the car quickly. Look at your pants, they're completely soaked. First come home with me to change clothes—you're not going anywhere until you do. And whose down jacket are you wearing? Gu Qiumian's? Hmm, ugly-cute..."
She bombarded him with a string of words. Zhang Shutong surrendered with raised hands.
He obediently walked down from the mountain road. Even the most suave man couldn't be cool in front of his own mother.
Only now did he realize how bedraggled he looked: the down jacket was a size too small, his pants and shoes were both wet, his whole body was covered in snow—he could go star in Escape from the Asylum... not that he meant the villa was an asylum.
But at least he'd gotten away from there.
The plan was proceeding smoothly. The price was being frozen half to death right now. He didn't need his mother's reminder—he'd hurry into the car on his own. Zhang Shutong climbed inside, and the warm air greeting him made him sigh in comfort.
The feeling of being reborn was wonderful.
The heavy car door shut out the cold wind. It was quiet inside the car, and his mother was also surprisingly quiet. Zhang Shutong had thought she'd press him about the origin of that down jacket, or if not mock him a few times, at least take a photo to hold against him later.
But his mother seemed uninterested, only urging him to quickly take off the jacket.
Her not caring was just fine.
Zhang Shutong relaxed again. Just then his mother suddenly said:
"Look behind you, do you recognize them?"
As she spoke, the woman put on her sunglasses and shifted into reverse.
"What?"
He was studying the zipper—this down jacket's zipper was also very small and seemed to have gotten stuck, taking forever to pull open. Hearing this, Zhang Shutong looked up and instinctively glanced at the rearview mirror—
The warm air blew steadily. There was a faint scent of perfume in the car. As the vehicle reversed, the tires made a creaking sound. A pendant with red tassels hung from the interior rearview mirror.
The tassels now danced in the breeze.
But the air was nearly frozen solid.
In this warm, cramped space, he suddenly felt an unparalleled chill.
Zhang Shutong stared blankly at the rearview mirror, feeling somewhat dizzy for a moment.
In the mirror was a pair of indifferent eyes.
The girl named Lu Qinglian sat directly behind the driver's seat.
But why...
was she in this car?
He immediately thought of those frozen snakes—they'd been found in the villa's courtyard, found on the mountain road, found on the car's windshield, and finally...
Finally, he opened his mouth. The fingers clutching the zipper had lost all color from the force.
"You..."
Zhang Shutong quickly turned around, eyes wide. The girl also twisted her neck slightly, those calm eyes like ancient wells moving toward him. But he didn't know if it was his imagination—he seemed to see on that face that never showed much emotional fluctuation;
A faint, knowing smile.