Zhang Shutong remembered going over to sit on the sofa for a while, so it probably slipped out then.
"I'm on night shifts both tomorrow and the day after. How about I leave the key with my colleague and give her a heads-up? I'll just tell her to keep an eye out for a really handsome kid with a plaster cast and give it to him."
"That's too much trouble." Zhang Shutong acted as though he hadn't heard the latter half of the sentence. He glanced at the drizzle outside the window. "I'll just go tonight."
"That works too. I don't change shifts until eight, so don't drag it out too late."
Zhang Shutong said his thanks and hung up the phone.
He pressed the lock button on his iPhone; there was something about the phone's built-in lock screen sound that he never grew tired of hearing.
"Classmate Lu Qinglian, actually, there's a question I've wanted to ask for a long time."
Looking at the passcode on the lock screen, Zhang Shutong said, "During the avalanche, you used my phone to call Ruoping. How did you know the passcode?"
Phones nowadays didn't have fingerprint unlocking.
Without even looking, Lu Qinglian poked her straw into her drink, the strawberry milk looking like a mere toy in her hands. "The time we went fishing."
"When?" Zhang Shutong had originally thought she would mention some other day, but he never expected it to be the very first day of the time loop.
"That day when we were hiding in the reed marshes, you unlocked your phone to write in your memos, telling everyone to hide well. I happened to be standing behind you." Lu Qinglian bit down gently on her straw, her tone indifferent.
Zhang Shutong was truly shocked for a moment. Just how many things had she done that day? She had searched for the clay figures, dealt with the poachers, and incidentally caught a basket of fish. But on second thought, if things hadn't happened that way, he wouldn't have been rushed to the hospital for emergency treatment in time. It could only be described as a blessing in disguise.
And so, Zhang Shutong stopped his hand from changing the passcode. "What else did the homeroom teacher say to you?"
"If it's necessary, I'll tell you. If I haven't told you, don't pester me about it."
"Right, right." Zhang Shutong backed off, feeling a bit rebuffed.
Ever since Lu Qinglian returned to school, she had resumed her unapproachable aura.
It was as if their "cooperation" was strictly limited to special circumstances, while in daily life, their paths still wouldn't cross very much.
She was still that girl who served as a temple keeper, walking up and down the mountain to come to school every day, quietly doing every single task. It wasn't necessarily because she was deeply interested in any of it, but simply out of habit.
Zhang Shutong even suspected that, in her eyes, even their casual chats along the way were just necessary communication to get a certain task done. Once the task was finished, most words were better left unsaid.
Lu Qinglian only did what was necessary.
Just like now, the sky outside the window was dark, and all the lights inside were turned on. The LED tubes glowed with a glaring white light, reflecting the scene inside the classroom onto the window glass. Zhang Shutong turned his head to look at the glass. In the reflection, Lu Qinglian was taking out a thick English tome—the New Concept English book they had ordered back in their second year of middle school. She lowered her eyes, not forgetting to flip open one of the texts to read even as she drank her milk.
A few minutes ago, Zhang Shutong had also seen her put a flat, water-stained object into her backpack. It turned out that after leaving the office, she had gone to the rooftop first. There were lunchboxes and lids scattered on the rooftop ground. They had left in a hurry, and amidst a freezing rain, the food inside had long since become inedible.
Zhang Shutong gained a bit of new insight into Lu Qinglian. He stopped disturbing her, said "excuse me," and walked out through the back door of the classroom.
The long recess was supposed to be a time to run wild outside, but today all outdoor activities were canceled due to the rain. All the students were cooped up inside the four-story teaching building. On every single floor, the clamor of human voices was boisterous enough to make the windows vibrate slightly.
When it rained, the rooftop became a place you couldn't go, so Zhang Shutong occasionally liked to come to the hallway to watch the rain.
Countless people dashed past behind him, playing and fooling around. The lights in the hallway were old, making this spot quite dim. The indoors on a rainy day gave people a certain sense of peace, though people themselves couldn't clearly explain where it came from. Perhaps it could be traced back to the dawn of evolution, when a pack of apes sheltered from the rain inside a cave.
His current position was right opposite the back door of Class 1. Zhang Shutong watched the rainwater slide down the glass while drinking his very sweet student milk. With a bit of a wild imagination, he could fantasize that he was in a café, that the glass was a floor-to-ceiling window, that the milk in his hand was a strawberry latte, and that he was right in the middle of a bustling downtown... How could a high-end café not be sprayed with some perfume?
Right then, a familiar fragrance drifted into his nose.
The difference between people could really be that vast. Some people only had student milk that tasted like sugar water to drink during the afternoon recess, while others held a carton of Deluxe milk. Some people sheltered from the winter's freezing rain in the hallway, while others were themselves like a continuous autumn rain.
Gu Qiumian was standing directly opposite the front door of Class 2. She was looking at the drizzle outside the window, her arms resting on the windowsill. She let out a breath, cradling her face with one hand while using the other to trace a few random lines on the glass.
However, her side wasn't as quiet as Zhang Shutong's. People came out of the classroom from time to time, mostly girls in groups of three or five, calling out greetings with laughter and chatter. Zhang Shutong realized belatedly that she was a very busy person now.
Many people greeted Gu Qiumian, but some people didn't do or say anything extra when watching the rain. Gu Qiumian would usually offer a careless hum without even wanting to turn her head, treating it as a response.
How could a busy person have the time to run out and watch the rain?
The world is very large, large enough for hundreds of people to traverse this narrow space at the same time, weaving past like a dense fabric.
The world is also very small, small enough that it felt like only two people were left here, and the world fell silent at this exact moment.
"Monitor, what a coincidence."
"Who's your monitor? Don't go claiming connections randomly." The monitor blinked her thick eyelashes, admiring her freshly minted artwork on the glass.
Zhang Shutong stopped talking. Ever since the avalanche, he felt that saying nothing and just quietly staying by her side wasn't bad either. In any case, he wasn't very good with words to begin with. The raindrops pattered onto the ground downstairs, soaking the grey concrete into black.
The dim light reflected her face on the glass. Zhang Shutong would occasionally take a glance. He didn't know what she was thinking, and he could never guess what was on her mind; he only knew that her mood was always very good whenever she drew funny faces.
Now that they were in two different classes, they had walked out from the front door and back door of their respective classrooms, looking idly at the rain outside the window, until the straw in his mouth made a sizzling sound and the school bell rang.
"Leaving first." The young miss wiped away the fog on the glass, opening her hands contentedly.
"Goodbye." The lackey crushed his empty milk carton flat to bring it back to the classroom.
The long recess was thirty minutes.
This meant that he and Gu Qiumian had stood together and watched the rain for thirty minutes without even realizing it.
...
The fourth period was a self-study class.
The teachers had gone to a meeting.
The new class monitor sat on the podium, and the only sound in the classroom was the rustling of pen tips gliding across paper.
Zhang Shutong continued to grind through math problems. The phone he had placed inside his desk slot buzzed, indicating that someone had tagged him in the group chat.
When it came to an obsession with fishing, Zhang Shutong had completely lost.
Normally, discussing what activities to do after school in the group chat every day was the standard routine, but he hadn't expected the three of them to still be debating where to go fishing on a rainy day. It wasn't until he picked up his phone to look that he realized it wasn't about fishing; rather, Ruoping had snatched a stack of coupons.
"A shop opened by my mom's friend. Today is Wednesday, they're having a promotion. Want to go eat?"
Her hand, with its painted nails, was tucked inside the sleeve of her sweater, holding a few coupons printed with a picture of fried chicken and a burger. It was called "Keng de Ji." It really was cheap; the set meals that usually sold for 12 yuan were all half off, and they even threw in a side of chicken nuggets.
Having finished writing the last major problem, Zhang Shutong signed up to join.
Not going fishing was forced by his physical condition, but not going to eat fried chicken would be an issue with his state of mind.
He had pretty much finished his evening homework, gradually finding his old rhythm. Back in middle school, he basically never did homework at home; it was always completed at school.
Du Kang said: "Wealthy boss, please carry us!" These days, "wealthy boss" was a trendy word. He then asked: "How are we getting there?"
"Let's ride our bikes. My dad actually just asked if we needed a ride, but I saw the rain isn't heavy, so I said never mind."
"What about Shutong?"
"I'll carry him." Qingyi popped into the chat.
Zhang Shutong sent the picture to his mom first, attaching a line of text: "I have a dinner engagement tonight, don't worry about me."
Then he said in the group chat: "But I need to go to the hospital to pick something up. I forgot about it earlier."
"Then let's go together. I checked the weather forecast, it won't rain too hard." Ruoping's typing speed was equivalent to three Gu Qiumians; Zhang Shutong didn't know why he came up with such a description. "Why don't you ask Qinglian if she wants to go?"
Zhang Shutong was too lazy to write another paper note, so he directly held out his phone screen for Lu Qinglian to see.
"Some classmates should stop whispering to each other."
The class monitor cleared his throat, inheriting the will of the homeroom teacher.
Lu Qinglian shook her head.
Zhang Shutong went back to writing his homework.
When the dismissal bell finally rang, he waited for his best friends to gather in his classroom.
Zhang Shutong lazily propped up his face, watching Lu Qinglian pack up her desk. She basically never took homework back with her either, so she always traveled light when coming to and leaving school every day.
Zhang Shutong looked downstairs again. Although the few of them didn't need parents to pick them up, there was still a flood of adults holding umbrellas pouring into the campus. Zhang Shutong even spotted a Volkswagen car in the distance by the school gate—the same one they had ridden in during lunch.
That belonged to Gu Qiumian's family.
She kept a relatively low profile at school, only riding in sedans.
Before long, Ruoping poked her head in. "Let's go, don't forget to bring an umbrella."
Only when she said this did Zhang Shutong remember that Lu Qinglian hadn't brought an umbrella. But she had already walked far away by now. He remembered there was a spare teacher's umbrella in the office; she would always give Old Song a heads-up whenever she went, so she probably went there this time too.
Thinking of this, he looked out from the window. Sure enough, he spotted that figure dressed in a green robe among the crowd. She was holding a red umbrella printed with a beer advertisement, walking toward the school gate against the surging flow of people.
Looking back, Zhang Shutong withdrew his gaze and left the classroom. He asked Ruoping, "Will you guys go upstairs with me to grab something at the hospital in a bit?"
"Sure, is it heavy?"
"Not heavy." Zhang Shutong thought to himself that he wanted to give the young nurse a scare.
Qingyi and Du Kang followed behind. The two of them happened to be on duty for cleaning today. Students were divided into the umbrella-carrying faction and the non-umbrella-carrying faction; the latter would often keep a spare umbrella at school. Both of them belonged to the latter faction, each holding a black umbrella and leisurely tapping them against the ground.
Boys could live very crudely, but they were often exceptionally meticulous about certain details—for instance, who didn't own a black, long-handled, large umbrella?
It could be used as the scabbard for a rapier, as a gentleman's cane, and at a crucial moment, it could completely shield a girl beneath it from the rain. Zhang Shutong was just pondering where his own very cool large umbrella had gone when someone bumped into him.
There were quite a few people in the hallway, but it wasn't to the point of being shoulder-to-shoulder. Moreover, he and Ruoping were currently waiting for Qingyi and the other to catch up, remaining stationary in place. To be precise, it was the other person who had bumped into him, and of all places, they just happened to hit his left hand which was slung across his chest. Zhang Shutong hissed in pain. Looking up, he saw a tall man brushing past.
The man had a full beard and wore a black suit, looking less like he was picking someone up from school and more like he was attending a funeral.
"Watch where you're going, can't you see his hand is injured?" Ruoping said displeasedly.
Hearing this, the man turned his head to look at them, but he didn't speak. The whites of his eyes were very prominent, lacking any vitality. He merely offered a cold glance before turning his head back, his feet never stopping. Ruoping instantly became annoyed. Zhang Shutong patted her.
"He's from Gu Qiumian's family."
"How do you know?"
"People from her family all dress very flashily." Zhang Shutong cracked a joke. "Let me tell you another small detail. If it's a bodyguard they only wear a suit, but if it's a driver they'll also wear a pair of white gloves. Look at his hands."
"But the driver wasn't him. The guy who picked us up for lunch was very young, and he was quite nice, even giving us Kunlun Mountains water to drink."
"Their family just has a lot of drivers."
Ruoping curled her lips and stopped talking.
Zhang Shutong praised her for being magnanimous enough, only to receive a white eye from Ruoping.
"When am I ever not magnanimous?"
Zhang Shutong thought about it and found it to be true. This time, Ruoping had accepted the chocolate and had acted impeccably in every aspect.
"But what were you thinking back then?" He was still a bit curious about this particular butterfly effect.
"What do you mean what was I thinking? Your questions are so weird. Is it written anywhere that I absolutely have to bicker with Gu Qiumian?" Ruoping showed a witch-like smile. "Alright then, let me bicker with you first. Tonight for dinner, I'm only treating the two of them. You can eat on your own."
Zhang Shutong quickly said he wouldn't dare. Who told him to use his last bit of money to pay for medicine? His pockets really were empty right now.
Ruoping also belonged to the non-umbrella-carrying faction. As the two walked out of the teaching building, Zhang Shutong held the umbrella for her—the one borrowed from the hospital.
"Get closer, don't let your shoulder get wet."
Ruoping leaned a bit closer to him. Ruoping was a rather pretty girl too, the heroic and spirited type. The reason he noticed this was because someone had pursued her back during their fourth year of middle school.
He couldn't remember the process clearly; in any case, they didn't succeed. Zhang Shutong only remembered that the ending wasn't very pleasant.
Unpleasant things were best left unthought of. He asked, "How is the relationship between the owner of that Keng de Ji shop and your mom?"
"They used to do business together. Why?"
"I think this promotion isn't eye-catching enough." Zhang Shutong pointed seriously at the coupon. "Can you have your mom suggest to her that it would be best to change the name to Crazy Wednesday?"
...
This Wednesday was indeed very crazy.
Crazy enough that the four of them braved the rain just to eat a knockoff KFC.
Zhang Shutong remembered that the salad dressing used by that shop was very sweet. Every time he went, he would tell the owner not to add dressing, separating the two pieces of bread to eat them. He had even been asked by Ruoping if she should arrange a set of knife and fork for him.
To say it was delicious certainly wouldn't be accurate. The so-called taste of childhood is when you buy a one-yuan grilled sausage from a roadside stall. When you bought it back then, it was absolutely not because it was a delicacy. Who knew what the hell the reason was? Maybe you lost a bet and had to treat someone, maybe the stinky tofu stall next door didn't open today, or maybe you were just used to stuffing something into your mouth while talking with your best friends.
Many years later, you still remember the taste of that grilled sausage, but you can no longer find the person who accompanied you home after school.
By this time, the sky had already turned pitch black. They walked into the hospital lobby, shaking the water off their umbrellas together. A flash of lightning lit up behind them, making for a truly cool entrance.
"Got any chewing gum?"
Everyone said they didn't. Zhang Shutong tied up the umbrella and returned it to the receptionist.
They teased him, saying, "Shutong, you've really become a familiar face here."
Zhang Shutong, on the other hand, said, "In the future, feel free to use my big name whenever you get hospitalized, though it won't be of any use."
They went up the stairs. The three of them wanted to follow him to the ward together, but seeing the group growing large again, Zhang Shutong stopped them. "Careful of infection. I'll go by myself, I'll be right back."
"Waiting for you." Du Kang just wandered around the hallway. He ran to the ward where Zhang Shutong used to stay first, peeking inside carefully only to find it empty.
"What are you doing?"
Du Kang explained to Ruoping, "Just curious, no other reason."
"So boring..."
"This is already considered good," Qingyi, who was leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets, chimed in upon seeing this. "Lately he's always jumping up to make a shooting motion, completely without any pattern. It's quite terrifying."
"You shouldn't act cool either. It's dirty, stop leaning against the hospital wall so much."
"I feel like that sounds like something my mom would say..."
"What?"
"Nothing."
Qingyi took off his earphones and simply walked over to the hallway window. He looked out for a moment, deep in thought. "I've finally figured something out, regarding Shutong."
"Are you talking about why he was so abnormal at noon?" Du Kang asked.
Ruoping followed his gaze as well.
"Ah, no." Qingyi shrugged. "Haven't you guys noticed that the bandage under his arm is almost completely black?"
"What about it?"
The youth carefully observed the windowsill. "Look, isn't the windowsill around here all wiped clean by him? He must have leaned against it a lot when he was hospitalized."
"How about it? Isn't that a very detailed discovery?" Qingyi turned his head cheerfully, only to find the two of them looking at him speechlessly.
"Uh, am I wrong?"
"You're not much better than the guy jumping up to shoot hoops."
"Hey, can you guys stop catching me in the crossfire every single time..."
The three stood in front of the window watching the rain. Qingyi sized up the scene outside the window again. "I bet Shutong was looking at that house."
Ruoping followed his line of sight. In the darkness, within their field of vision, was a very old house. There was no telling how long it had existed. It was surrounded by overgrown weeds. The most desolate place is definitely not a place littered with garbage, but a place where no one even bothers to throw garbage.
That old house fell right into this category. Perhaps its owner had neglected its maintenance, or perhaps the house had long been abandoned. An occasional flash of lightning allowed them to see the dense Boston ivy clinging to the building, looking like exposed, grim blood vessels in the dark night.
"And why is that? You can even deduce this kind of thing?" Although she appeared uninterested every time, she always wanted to ask.
"Because I gifted him a copy of Ghost Blows Out the Light." Qingyi was full of confidence.
"Seriously, stop talking. This really can't be called deduction. I could just as easily say I gifted him a copy of The Lost Tomb..." The girl held her forehead and sighed, wondering when she had learned to criticize like this. But it would be a wonder not to criticize when around someone with eighth-grade syndrome. She glanced at the old house again. That wall-like Boston ivy swayed in the wind and rain, and its shadow magnified countless times along with it, resembling a giant human-devouring net that could leap across the window and fly at their faces at any moment.
Ruoping withdrew her gaze, rather unwilling to admit that she was a bit scared, muttering, "What's so good about this, I'll go urge Shutong..."
But just as her voice fell, another rumble of thunder flashed past. With a boom, the field of vision instantly lit up, illuminating the darkness before their eyes. At this moment, even the red-brick walls of the house were revealed. The girl let out a cry of fright, even seeing her own pale face reflected on the glass.
"No way, no way, I'm not looking anymore!"
Ruoping covered her ears and took off.
Qingyi revealed a victorious smile.
"Hey, look at what that is!"
Du Kang suddenly called out to the two of them. Qingyi and Ruoping turned their heads, only to see Du Kang pressed flat against the glass in surprise, his nose even wrinkling up as he stared intently at that old house. It turned out that following that flash of lightning, the Boston ivy had finally become overburdened, and that dense wall of leaves finally peeled away—
A door was revealed!