Chapter 112: Sudden Turn for the Worse (1) |
"Qiumian, which song are you singing? I'll queue it up for you."
The girl named Xu Zhiruo turned her head.
If Zhang Shutong were here, he would recognize her as the short-haired girl who often followed beside Gu Qiumian—the one he jokingly called "Little Secretary."
Lights flashed in the karaoke room. The remaining two girls clapped their hands in encouragement. Xu Zhiruo felt rather pleased with herself, striking a pose with the microphone in her hand. Just her luck—a sharp screech of feedback rang out from the speakers. She quickly straightened the microphone and stuck out her tongue.
"You guys sing." Xu Zhiruo casually handed the microphone to one of the girls and turned to walk over to the sofa. There sat a girl with shoulder-length hair and an oval face. Today she wore a checkered sweater, red and black, going for a bright and charming style. But her mood was far from bright. On the contrary, her expression was subdued, only clapping symbolically when songs changed—the very picture of a young lady of status.
"What's wrong, what's wrong? In a bad mood?" Xu Zhiruo leaned close to Gu Qiumian, shaking her arm in a wheedling manner.
A new song had already been queued up—a rock song, its powerful drumbeat seemingly ready to swallow their voices whole.
"If I were in a bad mood, why would I have called you all here?" Gu Qiumian let her grip her arm, gently pushing her forehead. "Just worry less about me and take care of yourself first."
Actually, they were extremely close friends in private. The superior-subordinate dynamic they displayed in public was mostly for outsiders to see. Of course, sometimes when Gu Qiumian's mood really was terrible, Xu Zhiruo was willing to accommodate her more, playing the role of an errand-running, perceptive little secretary. If Zhang Shutong were here now, his jaw would drop again. But who could blame girls' relationships for being so complex and changeable?
She was like a little lackey.
"No one. It'd be better if you asked fewer questions," Gu Qiumian said irritably.
"How can that work? We agreed that when you become the boss in the future, I'll be your secretary. You have to look after me more." She joked, "Plus you've been staring at your phone this whole time. Are you chatting with some boy? Who is it, who is it? Who managed to get our Qiumian's QQ?"
"A classmate." Gu Qiumian didn't even lift her eyes. "You're so nosy. We're chatting about something else—actual business. Did you see those bodyguards upstairs? There's been some stuff going on at home these past few days."
Xu Zhiruo didn't believe it at first, but Gu Qiumian directly showed her the phone without any attempt to hide it. The girl quickly scanned through a few chat messages and was thoroughly disappointed.
Forget anything remotely flirtatious—they hadn't even chatted about anything casual. Not believing it, she scrolled the chat history all the way to the top. It was all dry, perfunctory exchanges.
An ID called "New Peach for Old Charm" asked: "How are things?"
Another ID called "Autumn Rain Lingering" replied: "Don't worry."
Or the latter would proactively say, "Everything's fine on my end," and the former would respond, "Stay safe."
What a blockhead, Xu Zhiruo thought. Hey, big brother, is this how you talk to a girl? She says she's fine and you just take it at face value?
If she really were fine, she wouldn't just reply with "I'm fine."
She picked up a fruit tea from the coffee table and took a sip. The coffee table was expensive red sandalwood, top quality—but Xu Zhiruo thought this gentleman was even more top-tier.
"A boy from our school?" Xu Zhiruo asked again.
"Mm."
"What grade?"
"A classmate."
"I've never heard you mention knowing any boys before." Xu Zhiruo murmured, "To think I've been kept in the dark for four years—my heart is breaking."
"Let it break then." Gu Qiumian rolled her eyes. "You're only in ninth grade this year. Have I been keeping things from you since elementary school?"
"So when did you two meet?" she asked with a grin.
"Wednesday."
"Which Wednesday?"
"This Wednesday, obviously," Gu Qiumian said offhandedly.
Xu Zhiruo counted on her fingers, surprised. "Only four days?"
She now felt she had underestimated this gentleman. If they'd known each other for four years and still chatted like this, he'd undoubtedly be a blockhead.
But having only known each other for four days, and already every sentence revolved around weighty topics like "your safety"—hey, hero, just where did you pop out from?
"I just thought of it—it's not your deskmate, is it? I've even talked to him. I heard from someone that on Thursday, the whole building block thing was his doing, wasn't it?"
Gu Qiumian made another affirmative sound.
"Showing courtesy for no reason means either treachery or theft! You must be careful!"
"Careful of what?" Gu Qiumian asked, puzzled.
"Although I admit he's handsome, you've only known each other four days. Anyway, don't just believe whatever he says. Could it be alarmist talk? Could it be attention-seeking? Could it be playing hard to get? But you know, when I saw you two that morning during reading period, I felt something was off."
"What was off?"
"How to put it... like you've known each other for a long time? You seem like you've known him for ages, and he seems like he's known you for ages. Anyway, if you didn't tell me in advance, I'd never guess you'd only known each other four days."
Gu Qiumian didn't respond to that. Instead she asked: "Enough about me. What about you? That boy who likes you—have you agreed?"
"That one from the class next door? So annoying, so annoying." Xu Zhiruo threw herself onto the sofa. "I already told him I don't feel anything, but he keeps pestering me. He has my deskmate give me cards, buys me breakfast... Ugh, I've said 'no thank you' countless times, but he still won't stop. When the time comes, lend me your two little henchmen, okay? I can't control the situation by myself."
"What 'boss lady'? That sounds awful."
"Then 'young lady'?"
"Don't call me that either."
"Anyway, I'm most afraid of this kind of persistent person." Xu Zhiruo bared her canine teeth threateningly. "Just like your deskmate—keeps asking if you're okay. You already said you were, can't he tell? Still asking—so annoying."
"But last week you told me you were a bit moved," Gu Qiumian said. She was referring to the boy who had a crush on her friend.
"I was a bit moved, sure. After all, he's thoughtful, right? Knows what I like to eat, what books I read, whose songs I listen to. Although his understanding isn't necessarily deep, at least he's willing to make a surface effort. During breaks he goes out to buy milk tea and stuff. I used to think that kind of thing was funny—who's short a cup of milk tea? But when it actually happens to you, and everyone else starts teasing you about it, it is kind of touching."
"So?" Gu Qiumian quietly waited for the turn.
"So it's best not to agree in the heat of the moment. Then I realized I actually don't have feelings for him, so I quickly rejected him. What do you think?"
Xu Zhiruo continued: "So Qiumian, you need to think carefully. He pesters persistently, you defend stubbornly—don't be impulsive."
Gu Qiumian blinked: "It's not like you think. He's not pestering me persistently—he's worried about me. Don't wrongly accuse people."
"Then shouldn't you be a bit happier? A handsome pursuer and all?"
But Gu Qiumian shook her head without speaking.
"Hey, how about we take a photo? I just discovered a great photo editing app. We can take purikura-style photos, but it's only in the Apple App Store. Let me borrow your phone again." She knew the other girl wasn't very familiar with these things, so she started fiddling with it herself, moving close to Gu Qiumian. "Look at the camera, smile..."
The shutter clicked. The image froze.
"Qiumian, you're going for the aloof look today." Xu Zhiruo kept her head down, tapping away. "Should I add a cuter filter for you?"
Gu Qiumian absentmindedly made an affirmative sound.
The girl quickly finished tinkering. Opening the photo album, she said, "How about this one?"
Gu Qiumian nodded.
"What about this one?"
She swiped through them one by one. Though they were identical photos, in her hands they presented several different styles—bright and charming, anime-style, blue-toned with a touch of melancholy... Until a boy's face appeared unexpectedly before them both.
"This is..."
Xu Zhiruo froze, recognizing Gu Qiumian's deskmate. The background appeared to be inside a small car, outside was a snowy night.
She knew she'd been wrong again. Their relationship was far deeper than she'd thought—or rather, far more complicated. This definitely wasn't some you-chase-me-I-chase-you relationship. This was clearly already eloping in a car together!
"Wow, eloping! He actually dares to drive and secretly take you out..."
Gu Qiumian was also stunned when she saw this photo. She knew it was from that night learning to drive. After a moment of silence, the girl pointed at the screen:
"Don't you see someone sitting in the passenger seat?"
Xu Zhiruo looked carefully and could vaguely make out a man's silhouette, but this left her even more confused:
"So what were you doing? It looks kind of scary like this."
Through the front windshield, you could see candle-like headlights dyeing the road surface warm yellow. The night was pitch black, snow drifting all around. The flash had gone off at just the right moment, illuminating the car's interior in stark white. The boy's motion of turning around was frozen in the frame, his expression surprised yet helpless—clearly the phone's owner had taken it secretly.
"The passenger seat is my homeroom teacher. Didn't I just say? There's been some stuff these past few days. We drove there that night."
Xu Zhiruo thought to herself, Qiumian, you're pulling my leg. What legitimate business would have an underage student driving? If there really was business, the teacher should be driving, right? And even if there really was business, why are you taking photos? Why is he looking at you? You must have been smiling really happily then—not like your current expression.
But Gu Qiumian didn't want to say more. After she asked several times what their relationship really was, she said they were just ordinary classmates. When she said this, she was drinking water, moistening her lips. You couldn't tell what she was feeling.
Xu Zhiruo knew she'd finally touched on the crux of the matter. She slapped her thigh:
"I know! You're hesitating!"
"Hesitating?" Gu Qiumian's hand holding the cup paused.
"You don't actually want to be here singing with us, do you? Your heart is somewhere else, but you don't dare go. You're backing down!"
"Who..."
Gu Qiumian was about to defend herself when a song finished. The remaining two girls came over to the sofa, laughing and talking, out of breath: "Zhiruo, what are you talking about with Qiumian? Just the two of us singing now. Ah, so tired..."
Xu Zhiruo thought, I'm counseling our Mianmian young lady! After all that questioning I finally got to the key part—you two girls, don't interrupt my motivational speech.
But Gu Qiumian had already stood up. She set down the empty crystal glass in her hand:
"I'll queue up a song too."
She picked up the microphone and bent down at the song selection console.
"What's with Qiumian? She's been looking at her phone on the sofa all day..."
"Come on, let's listen to her sing. Qiumian sings way better than us."
They quieted down, ready to clap encouragement at any moment. But when the intro started, they realized it wasn't her usual preferred style. The girl in front of the screen hummed along softly with the melody.
Today her hair also had a silver pendant attached to the ends, but she was singing a quiet song, so it wouldn't sway with her movements.
...
"Remember when Teacher told you he used to have a girlfriend?"
Old Song's voice was also a bit hoarse from smoking too much:
"Back when I broke up with her, I felt I'd wronged her. My heart ached. I was depressed for a while, often driving around the island aimlessly. The people around me didn't understand either—my dad, my mom, those little old folks, they worried about me. Every week they'd take the boat to see me. They didn't care about weekends—whenever they had time, they'd come. Didn't know the way at first, didn't want to tell me in advance either, just came quietly. Once I was teaching class, turned my head, and saw them in the schoolyard, holding a basket of eggs and a slaughtered chicken... I'd just transferred to teach here. Didn't even recognize all the students' parents yet, but my own parents came first.
"Then when I got back to the dorm, as soon as they came in they started persuading me: 'Nanshan, you can't go on like this. You need to move forward.' Not just them—my old principal from my previous school called me too, and former colleagues and students, one after another telling me to be strong, to tell them if I had any difficulties, asking why I had to make it seem like self-imposed exile.
"So I explained to each of them. I was about twenty-three or twenty-four then, an awkward age. You could say I was an adult—I really was an adult—but I felt no different from a fresh college kid. But you have to start taking responsibility for your own life, so I couldn't just not answer the phone because I felt bad. But what reason could I give? That my girlfriend and I broke up? I just couldn't say it."
Zhang Shutong knew that here it should be "passed away" rather than "broke up."
"Thinking back now, many people cared about me, but few understood, including my parents. So Teacher roughly understands your feelings. Don't think you're being difficult—this is nothing. I was way more difficult back then."
Old Song smiled wryly: "I remember when we were practicing driving, you asked me how I knew the roads around here so well. Actually, I just drove around a lot. I've been to every corner of the island. You know how big our island is? But the year I drove the most, I put on 20,000 kilometers. What does that mean? A complete circuit of the island is less than 20 kilometers, and many places cars can't even reach. You can do the simple math—count how many laps I averaged per day. Let me show you something—"
As he spoke, Old Song led him to the car, opened the glove compartment in the passenger seat. A boxful of cards tumbled out, quite spectacular. Zhang Shutong picked one up—they were actually discount cards from gas stations. Each only saved three yuan.
But there wasn't even a gas station on the island. Every time he had to go to the city. Heaven knows how many times he'd filled up.
Old Song looked at the empty glove box feeling somewhat lonely. He stuffed the cards back in one by one, finally snapping it shut with a click:
"Just idle talk. If I had to say something more, I'll be a busybody one more time. In these four years on the island, Teacher has come to understand one principle: so-called life is actually a process of accounting to yourself. If you're not satisfied with that account, it doesn't matter who tries to persuade you."
Zhang Shutong nodded silently, feeling these words were right.
He was also asking himself what he was still persisting in now. Gu Qiumian not dying should be enough—he should be able to breathe easy. But many fragments of memory wouldn't easily let him go. There was the regret from his student days when he heard of Gu Qiumian's death, and the shock eight years later when he saw that hidden album in the nail salon.
When something has been lodged in your heart for many years, you don't deliberately recall it. But once it appears in your mind, you'll rack your brains thinking about right and wrong, better methods... Trying everything, to no avail. Actually what you want isn't right or wrong, nor results—it's feeling regret for the thing itself that can't be recovered.
But Song Nanshan was someone who couldn't recover anything at all.
Some things weren't as casual as he made them sound. A few days ago, through the police station door, he'd overheard that the man came to teach on the small island because his girlfriend was a local. The funeral was held on the island. The woman stayed here forever. The man therefore also stayed on the island. The ability he himself desperately wanted to escape from might be exactly what Teacher dreamed of possessing.
Zhang Shutong still had one gas card he hadn't put back. He handed it to Old Song, but the other indicated it didn't matter:
"These damn things only save three yuan each. You can only use one card per fill-up. After filling up they give you three more. Can never use them all."
"Then why still keep them?"
Zhang Shutong felt his question was really stupid, but right now he just wanted to ask.
"Four years, Shutong." The man said softly. "In four years you always have to leave something behind. You all are students Teacher has taught since seventh grade. In a sense, you're proof, you're traces. But you're about to graduate too. In half a year you'll be gone. Then what will I have left? Actually, only these."
Zhang Shutong seemed to understand yet not quite, feeling inexplicably melancholic. But Old Song suddenly smiled:
"That's the artsy way of putting it. You actually took it seriously? Actually Teacher's just too lazy to clean up. Every time I fill up, I just toss them in there."
He even lowered his voice: "Actually it's not just gas cards. Sometimes I can fish out those kinds of advertisements from the car window—you know what I mean. I toss those in there too. Good thing you two didn't see them, otherwise Teacher's reputation would be ruined. Let me tell you in advance—don't misunderstand. Your teacher is pure and chaste. If you little punk dare spread this around, forget about sitting with Qiumian. Next week I'll separate you two."
Zhang Shutong's bit of melancholy vanished completely.
Old Song chuckled and called him and Lu Qinglian to get out of the car, saying the three of them should head upstairs to wait—it was warmer inside.
Passing the motorcycle, the man was still in the mood to pat the handlebar: "Oh, it's a Honda? I used to have one too, but I sold it. Your dad's?"
Zhang Shutong nodded. He took out the mask he'd bought from the hospital from the storage compartment. But just as he put it on, Old Song casually knocked it off:
"When I see a bike I like, I habitually take a photo. Pretty handsome."