Winter Time Rendering

Chapter 137: Chapter 56: "Nice to Meet You

"She was the one who called me," Zhang Shutong said helplessly. "I was just worried something might have happened to her."

"Mhm, mhm. My Tongtong is so great, a real man!" his mom cooed playfully.

Zhang Shutong decided it was a lost cause and gave her a simple rundown of the evening’s events, explaining that her son hadn’t been on a date, but had been out saving the world.

But his mom didn’t ask how vicious the criminal was. Instead, she asked if he’d eaten, as if nothing in the world was more important than her son going hungry.

When he said he had, his mom told him she’d left some food for him in the pot and that he could have it for breakfast tomorrow.

Zhang Shutong still wasn’t quite used to talking with his mom like this. Eight years from now, she wouldn’t be the same live wire she was today. She would spend years worrying about him, especially during the time he took a leave of absence from high school, when she cried every day behind his back.

So Zhang Shutong told his mom not to overwork herself. His mom replied, "You don’t need to worry about me, just take care of yourself first. How did things go with Gu Qiuyan today?"

She couldn’t go three sentences without mentioning Gu Qiuyan, so Zhang Shutong said, "Mom, you’ve really misunderstood. We’re not in that kind of relationship."

"So, are you free tomorrow?"

Zhang Shutong replied on instinct that he had plans.

His mom let out a disdainful "pfft."

Zhang Shutong decided against explaining that Miss Gu was treating a whole group of people. Instead, he changed tack, rolling his eyes as he brought up the morning’s events. "You were worried Gu Qiuyan and Ruoping were going to get into a fight, weren’t you?"

"Well, wasn’t that because of you? One is your friend, and the other is your... heh..." His mom just smiled.

But that was exactly what Zhang Shutong was waiting to hear. "You didn’t expect this, did you? They were actually completely fine. Gu Qiuyan even apologized first."

Zhang Shutong brought this up to tell her not to be so full of herself; not everyone revolved around her son, treating him like some kind of prize.

But his mom asked, a strange note in her voice,

"You’re saying Gu Qiuyan apologized first?"

"Yeah. She’s actually a pretty good person."

The more time he spent with her, the more Zhang Shutong realized she didn’t have the arrogant, domineering "rich girl" attitude he’d imagined—aside from her tendency to glare at people.

"I’m realizing that telling you all this is a waste of my precious beauty sleep."

His mom left him with that disdainful parting shot. "I’m hanging up, I’m hanging up! If I get wrinkles from this, it’s all your fault!" Then she hung up.

’This is the first time my own mother’s ever been so disgusted with me.’

Zhang Shutong called Song Nanshan back. Song was noisily slurping down instant noodles, which made him a little hungry too.

He went to the kitchen. His mom had left a portion of stew in the pot, but it was more than he could eat. If he saved it, reheating it in the morning would turn it to mush. He decided to just eat a steamed bun instead.

Two steamed buns were on the table under a cover. He grabbed one and went to the sofa to watch TV, only to find two shopping bags next to him. Zhang Shutong slapped his forehead. ’I’m such an idiot,’ he thought. ’Why am I gnawing on a plain bun when there are snacks right here?’

It wasn’t like he was some ascetic monk. If there was better food available, of course he’d eat it. He rummaged through the bags for a while, finding potato chips, shrimp crackers, beef jerky, and crispy rice snacks. Of course, there was no shortage of various chocolates and sweets. Gu Qiuyan had clearly shopped based on her own tastes.

He dumped everything out, picked out a few things he wanted to eat, and decided to take the rest to Ruoping and the others. Then, amid the pile of colorful packaging, he spotted something dark.

The thing looked completely out of place. All the other snacks were in exquisite wrappers, while this was just wrapped in a plain plastic bag. Of course, in a sense, it wasn’t really a snack. Zhang Shutong remembered what it was—

It was a piece of pork liver.

’The only piece of cooked food? Or, a proper dish, rather?’

He remembered asking Gu Qiuyan why she’d bought such a large piece of pork liver. She’d said she wanted to eat it herself, but that it had to be eaten quickly. Besides, her family wasn’t short on liver, so there was no need for Zhang Shutong to give it back. His memory had always been excellent. Just as he remembered that Gu Qiuyan had been the one to apologize, he also remembered the second half of the girl’s sentence. After a moment’s pause, she had reluctantly added, "...since you don’t know how to cook..."

At the time, Zhang Shutong hadn’t understood what she meant. If you can’t cook, you can just eat out. What could a piece of pork liver possibly change? But now, sitting in his empty home, a woman’s voice asking if he’d eaten still fresh in his mind, he understood. He had a pile of snacks, but none of it was a proper meal. A cold steamed bun was in his mouth, and his stomach was starting to grumble. Suddenly, he knew what the pork liver was for.

Zhang Shutong took the liver to the kitchen, cut off a few slices, and sandwiched them inside his steamed bun before taking a bite.

He wasn’t sure if this was what Gu Qiuyan had intended, but it was how he chose to interpret it in that moment. Zhang Shutong unconsciously glanced south. The kitchen faced southeast, so he could easily see the night sky through the window. The night was dark, too, just like the pork liver in his bun.

When he finished eating and lay down on his bed, he deleted the text he’d typed in the chat box.

Then, Zhang Shutong turned off the light, hoping for another peaceful night.

’He didn’t know how long it had been since he’d felt this relaxed.’

He didn’t sleep well that night. For the first time, he had a dream whose details he couldn’t recall upon waking. He dreamed he was back in the provincial capital, walking on an overpass under the night sky, and in the distance, he saw a giant Ferris wheel.

The Ferris wheel was lit up, its cars turning slowly, but he could never quite make out its full silhouette.

And so, in the dead of night, at the very moment of waking, he snapped his eyes open.

The bed frame was trembling!

The ceiling was trembling, the nightstand was trembling, the light switch on the wall was trembling, his phone was trembling, even his own hands were trembling... Or rather, it wasn’t that they were trembling, but that the world as he saw it was trembling.

His mind snapped into focus with overwhelming shock as the entire world before him flickered like a black-and-white photographic negative.

His consciousness went blank, as if it had been ripped from his body.

Zhang Shutong was all too familiar with this phenomenon.

In the final moment, he shot upright, his mouth opening in a silent scream, because—

Regression.

It had triggered.

*

After eight long years, Zhang Shutong was back on the small island where he grew up.

—To attend the funeral of a junior high classmate.

The funeral home was in the southern part of the island, right next to the new road that circled the lake.

Leaning on the roadside guardrail to gaze into the distance, on a clear day the lake would reflect the pristine sky, like a sapphire gem. A breeze would blow by, making the clouds seem to ripple along with the water—a truly refreshing sight.

Today, however, the lake was a livid, ashen gray.

*

Zhang Shutong looked out at that ashen-gray lake, speechless for a long, long time.

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