Chapter 126: "Stray Dog" Route (1) |
"Hey, wake up, Shutong, wake up..."
He vaguely heard a familiar voice.
"Stop sleeping..."
Zhang Shutong wanted to open his eyes.
But his eyelids felt as heavy as a thousand pounds.
His mind, however, was gradually clearing.
Still alive.
Not dead.
It seemed he had been rescued from the avalanche after all.
So he should be in the hospital now?
He had already recognized that it was Du Kang's voice.
Zhang Shutong thought to himself, please, just let me sleep a bit longer, I'm really too tired.
Du Kang urged again:
"How long have you been sleeping?"
True enough.
He thought.
He still needed to get Gu Qiumian back before dawn, or there would be trouble if he was late.
He struggled to pry his eyelids open a crack, and his senses immediately became clearer:
The wind brushing against his face, a faint fishy smell, his body feeling cold.
"I'm saying, Shutong, you slept the whole ride in the car, how did you fall asleep on the boat again? Come on, let's go, let's go..."
Du Kang from eight years later appeared before his eyes, and Zhang Shutong's eyes instantly widened.
Regression!
The world in his vision shook violently. It turned out that he hadn't been sleeping too deeply just now—during the regression process, he simply couldn't control his own body.
He quickly stood up, only to discover he was in a boat cabin. But the ferry to and from the island had no cabin at all. Zhang Shutong looked out the window at the lake surface. The iron-gray water was cut into white foam by the advancing boat hull, and droplets of spray splashed onto his face. This was definitely the boat back to the island... but why was it like this?
Zhang Shutong's heart suddenly constricted. He turned to look at Du Kang and blurted out:
"Did Gu Qiumian die again?"
"Uh..."
Du Kang was dumbfounded.
"Dude, did you sleep yourself stupid or what?"
"Just tell me first, did she die or not?"
"Of course not. You're talking about Gu Qiumian, right? Why bring her up all of a sudden?" Du Kang recalled, as if this name hadn't appeared in his mouth for a long time. Then he smiled mischievously, "Hey, Shutong, don't tell me you dreamed about her..."
Zhang Shutong was equally stunned.
His thoughts were still stuck at the moment the avalanche happened, but if Gu Qiumian hadn't died, why had he regressed again?
Zhang Shutong remembered that dream:
"Did her dad die?"
"Probably not. That's not something I'd know." Du Kang's expression grew increasingly strange. "We haven't been in contact for several years. Who knows if he's dead or not? Besides, your questions are really weird—do you have to ask about everyone in her whole family?"
Only then did Zhang Shutong feel a deep wave of exhaustion wash over his body. The ferry wasn't particularly stable, and he staggered a step back and fell into his chair.
"Didn't I tell you to close the window? How come you opened it again yourself? You're running a fever and still making trouble." Du Kang grumbled, "What's gotten into you, why are you suddenly so jumpy?"
Zhang Shutong instinctively touched his own forehead. It was indeed burning hot, but he couldn't be bothered to worry about why he coincidentally also had a fever eight years later. He just wanted to know—if Gu Qiumian hadn't died, and the content of that dream hadn't come true either, then what the hell was going on?
He glanced at Du Kang, and immediately noticed something was off about him too. His best friend still had that baby face, but no longer kept a buzz cut. Instead, he had very flowing long hair, like he was in a rock band.
Zhang Shutong hurriedly checked his phone.
December 12, 2020.
Still that same day.
But shouldn't Du Kang have inherited his family's small restaurant and stayed on the island? Why was he on the boat with him?
He wanted to sort through all these changes to reach some conclusion, but his mind was a beat slow from the fever. Still, he had an answer to the first question:
Why would the ferry to and from the island have a cabin?
Because Gu Qiumian hadn't died, her father continued developing the island, so eventually the island prospered too—prosperous enough that even the ferry got a roof added.
Come to think of it, his relationship with Du Kang wasn't like it had been on the Cold-Blooded Route either.
It seemed he had learned from his previous mistakes and gotten along well with everyone.
But why had he regressed?
Wasn't the plan to celebrate his birthday, and it didn't work out again?
Zhang Shutong suddenly felt his stomach churning. He covered his mouth, and Du Kang quickly patted his back:
"Relax, relax, don't be anxious. Take deep breaths. Did you take your medicine?"
Zhang Shutong did as instructed. He took a deep breath and finally felt much better.
"Let's go first." Du Kang said again, "The boat's already docked. Let's get off and find somewhere to go. Staying here isn't a solution."
Zhang Shutong wanted to ask more questions, but every time he was about to open his mouth, a deep wave of nausea hit him. His heart pounded. All he could do was try not to think about it anymore. He followed Du Kang out of the cabin in a daze, and discovered there were more people today than in the past. Men leaned against the deck smoking, women held up their phones taking photos.
"Young man, could you take a photo for me and my husband?"
An elderly woman asked.
"My friend's not feeling too well..." Du Kang hesitated.
Zhang Shutong shook his head to indicate he was fine. He really needed some alone time right now. Du Kang went to take the photo, and he followed the crowd toward the exit, but suddenly stopped in his tracks.
Zhang Shutong saw a tire mark on the deck.
It was a trace left by a burned tire.
You've got to be kidding me...
He looked at the ferry itself.
The hull had white paint with three large characters reading "Victory." Only then did he realize that having a cabin didn't mean it was a different boat—it had been built onto the original foundation.
Zhang Shutong stared at this tire mark in a daze. In other words, this was very likely a trace he himself had left eight years ago. Because he'd needed to get back to the island before six o'clock, his past self had ridden a bike straight onto the deck, the tire grinding out sparks with a pungent smell. It had also left behind a black mark that spanned eight years.
He wanted to verify his speculation, but when he looked up, all around him were unfamiliar faces. They came from all over, from neighboring provinces and cities. Even the cigarette pack on the ground was a brand he'd never seen before. Where should he even go to find the staff from back then?
Actually, he himself didn't remember their faces either.
This glance didn't matter much, but Zhang Shutong was shocked once again. Was this still the same dock from eight years ago?
Walking off the boat, there was a row of passageways separated by iron railings. The crowd moved through the passages in an orderly fashion, facing a huge stone gate, or rather an archway. Built entirely of bluestone, it had a coiled dragon carved on each pillar, and in the center of the archway were four resplendent golden characters: "Yanlong Island Entrance."
Zhang Shutong opened his mouth in surprise, because he even discovered a line of small characters below: "Calligraphy by Gu Jianhong." Zhang Shutong thought to himself, Autumn Rain Lingering, your dad sure knows how to show off. He used to just put his name on the school, now he's directly stamped his mark on the island entrance.
Everything had become unrecognizable.
The bus routes had changed from one to two, and Zhang Shutong even saw taxis. Hey, there were actually taxis—was this for real?
Thinking that all this might be related to him, all his thoughts were drawn to these changes. He stood in place looking around until someone behind him bumped into him and he nearly lost his balance.
Zhang Shutong thought he was pretty frail now, so he consciously moved aside. Du Kang ran down and patted his shoulder:
"Nothing special to see, it's all for show."
"Oh." Zhang Shutong nodded, then remembered to ask, "Should we get a cab?"
"No need." Du Kang said carelessly, "I already called for a ride in the group chat. It'll be here soon."
A ride-hailing service!
Listen to that—what a fresh, modern term. If they'd had this thing eight years ago, he wouldn't have had to ride a motorcycle through the snow. Zhang Shutong was thinking wistfully when an old man on a three-wheeled motorcycle came up to them.
"Did you make the call?"
"Ah, yes."
"Get on then, let's go."
This was the ride-hailing service?
Zhang Shutong was pulled onto the vehicle by Du Kang in a daze. Now the two of them sat facing each other in the back seat of the three-wheeler. The three-wheeler also had a cover, or rather a compartment, and the compartment even had small glass windows. Du Kang smiled awkwardly:
"I'm not being cheap, buddy. It's mainly that there are only a few taxis on the island, and we don't know how long we'd have to wait outside, and you can't be in the wind..."
"It's fine, I'm not that delicate." Zhang Shutong shook his head.
Du Kang felt relieved. He'd already taken out a cigarette, but put it back:
"Forgot you can't smell cigarette smoke..."
Zhang Shutong said if you want to smoke, go ahead and smoke, don't worry about me—after all, I wasn't spared Teacher Song's poison back in the day.
But Du Kang still didn't light up. Zhang Shutong was too lazy to persuade him further. He looked out through the small glass window at the island.
Regrettably, there weren't many changes to the streets.
Single-story buildings with storefronts in front and residential quarters in back were still the same as before. Zhang Shutong found a bit of familiarity in them.
The winter streets were somewhat desolate, with the bare, withered branches of roadside trees. At least it hadn't snowed.
He still wanted to figure out why he was here and what had happened over these years. Zhang Shutong scrolled through his WeChat chat history. Fortunately, there was no contact information for that editor anymore. He thought to himself that he'd finally stopped holing up at home as a translator. He scrolled back and forth—Du Kang's, Ruoping's, and Qingyi's contact information were all there, but he couldn't find that senior student. It seemed he hadn't harmed her after all.
Zhang Shutong actually got motion sick in a three-wheeler.
He forced himself to press the pause button on his brain and leaned back in his seat with his eyes closed to rest. This seat was really uncomfortable—the backrest and seat formed a right angle, and the vibrations from the bottom of the vehicle transmitted to his body. He felt like vomiting again. Zhang Shutong opened the window for some air, and inadvertently saw a four-story building—that should be the tallest structure on the entire island: Beiyi Shopping Center.
Wait, where were they going now? The funeral home?
Speaking of which, what about Lu Qinglian? Was she the one who rescued him? Then what about eight years later?
Zhang Shutong looked at Du Kang and found him chatting cheerfully with the old man. If Lu Qinglian had died, there was no way he'd have this reaction.
Only then did he remember he'd been pulled onto the vehicle by Du Kang in confusion. He quickly asked what they were going to do next. Du Kang looked puzzled too:
"Didn't we agree to go eat at the mall?"
"Oh, I'm confused from the fever..."
"I can tell."
The two men looked out the window, occasionally swaying left and right from a bump in the road. They rode in silence.
The two got off at the mall entrance. Du Kang handed over a ten-yuan bill and waved his hand magnanimously:
"Keep the change. Take care."
"Right on."
The old man rode off in style.
Zhang Shutong followed Du Kang into the mall. He held onto the escalator railing and saw the area division sign overhead. It was still the same—first floor was the supermarket, second floor was clothing, third floor was restaurants, fourth floor was movies... when did they add a movie theater?
He vaguely remembered that Gu Qiumian seemed to have mentioned something to him about her dad wanting to build a movie theater. This must be it.
But hadn't the original plan been to build a commercial plaza? Although this mall had been renovated compared to eight years ago and was much more fashionable, it was still far from being a commercial district.
They quickly went up to the third floor. Du Kang walked straight into a restaurant. Zhang Shutong looked at the sign and stood there stunned for a long moment.
For no other reason than the restaurant's name was—
Hometown Impressions.
Wait, wasn't this the small lake fish restaurant that used to be on the commercial street? Eight years later, it had actually transformed into a high-end restaurant in the mall.
The restaurant had bright floor-to-ceiling windows with a row of bamboo planted behind them. Looking through the gaps, the style was very typical lakeside scenery. Even the seating had become small fishing boats. At the entrance, an advertising display proclaimed it was an establishment with many years of history:
"Legend has it that during the Qianlong period..."
What does this have to do with Emperor Qianlong's southern tour? Isn't this in the north?
There were so many things to complain about that even Zhang Shutong wanted to comment.
But he really didn't have the energy right now. He just walked into the restaurant in a daze. There weren't many people—four or five tables worth. As soon as he entered, he saw a pretty short-haired woman waving:
"Over here, over here! You guys finally made it!"
Oh, it's Ruoping.
Zhang Shutong immediately felt a sense of warmth. Ruoping wasn't like that Du Kang kid who had to grow his hair long and tie it in a little ponytail—he'd almost failed to recognize him. He sat down in the fishing boat and asked:
"Where's Qingyi?"
"Him? Working overtime, of course. Couldn't fly back, so it's just the three of us." Ruoping rolled her eyes.
"He's working overtime again?"
Zhang Shutong thought, dude, just how obsessed are you with overtime? Every time I regress, everything changes, but you're always working overtime.
He smiled, wanting to say something, but suddenly broke into heart-wrenching coughs:
"How are you doing?"
Ruoping held his hand with concern. Zhang Shutong was startled again, thinking aren't we being a bit too intimate? Miss Feng, this wasn't your personality before. But his coughing wouldn't subside. Zhang Shutong's eyes were almost tearing up. Ruoping pulled out a few tissues for him:
"You didn't take medicine?"
It seemed on this timeline everyone's relationship was really good—she even knew he had a fever.
"It's fine, I'm just a bit tired..."
He propped up his forehead, suddenly feeling a bit annoyed. He'd had a fever eight years ago, and he still had a fever eight years later. Couldn't he just be clearheaded for once?
Ruoping said the food hasn't been served yet, why don't you lie down and rest for a bit.
Zhang Shutong nodded and lay down on the table.
He was really so tired. It reminded him of getting an IV drip in the hospital room. Who would have thought that one moment he'd be in the all-consuming white snow, and the next he'd be sitting in a warm restaurant?
Belatedly, he wondered—did this mean his mission was complete?
Gu Qiumian had been saved.
The island had changed too. Although not by much, it had at least changed in a positive direction.
But how should he go back?
Zhang Shutong suddenly became alert.
Right, how should he go back?
If he could successfully live to eight years in the future, that meant that night had ended without incident, and that woman had already been dealt with.
But without a killer, how could he go back?
His mind had been fuzzy before. He'd thought that since he was already here, he might as well have a good meal and chat with everyone first, figure out what had happened over these eight years, then run to the Forbidden Zone at night and wait for someone to stab him so he could return to his student days and finally embrace a new life. But the problem was, the killer who was supposed to stab him was already gone. How could he go back?
Zhang Shutong raised his head.
Did this mean he had to stay in the "present"?
Although life now seemed pretty good—his relationship with his best friends was great, he wasn't isolating himself at home, and presumably after dealing with the killer he didn't need to go to the temple to obtain that damned ability... so was this his life from now on?
The moment this thought arose in his mind, his stomach churned again. Ruoping stood up and patted his back. Du Kang came back at this moment:
"I told you to keep an eye on him. How are you watching him? How did he end up like this again?"
"I don't know! He was fine before getting on the boat, even had the strength to smile. Then after one nap, he turned out like this..."
"Did he catch a chill again?"
"Seems like he didn't close the window. I went outside to smoke..." Du Kang said weakly.
"You..." Ruoping was furious.
"Don't blame him, don't be angry." Zhang Shutong waved his hand again. He wasn't a child—from what they were saying, it sounded like he needed round-the-clock supervision.
Zhang Shutong finally felt a bit better. He knew something must have gone wrong here, so he forced himself to stay alert and said:
"After I woke up, I seem to have forgotten some things. Can you tell me in detail?"
The two looked at each other.
"Amnesia?" Du Kang said.
"Go to the hospital?" Ruoping said.
"No need, just treat it as amnesia." He covered his forehead. "You should both still remember, right? What happened on the night of December 9, 2012. I left Gu Qiumian at the hospital and went alone to a certain place. I want to know what exactly happened after that."