Winter Time Rendering

Chapter 157: Chapter 66: Melancholy

Zhang Shutong stood where he was, listened for a moment, then continued down the stairs.

Cyan, a small figure, eyes. A rather bad guess had just popped into his head.

There weren’t many students in the hallway; most were in their classrooms for the lunch break. He lightened his steps, holding his phone to his ear with one hand.

Even though his mom worked overtime every day, she should be on her lunch break now, so the call ought to go through. However—

"The user you are calling is busy..."

’If she acted according to common sense, she wouldn’t be my mom.’

He decided to just send a text and wait for her reply.

According to the upperclassman, the killer’s goal was to stop Father Gu from developing the island. But that phrasing was actually quite vague. Boss Gu wanted to build plenty of buildings, so who knew what it meant? ’Preserve the island’s original ecosystem? Or stop a specific construction project?’

After all, demolishing the commercial street also counted as development.

The scope was too broad. Fortunately, his mom worked in geological surveying, and she happened to work under Boss Gu. He could find out the specific locations for development just by asking her.

’I have to start preparing in advance.’

Then, Zhang Shutong went to the office. Song was sitting there with a grim face, not saying a word. He would occasionally stand up and pace a few steps, rolling up his sleeves and putting his hands on his hips, still pondering who had left the words "go die" on that sheet of A4 paper.

Zhang Shutong thought, ’My dear teacher, you’ll never find the culprit like this. You’d be better off grabbing some lunch. Speaking of which, isn’t Song the only "victim" of the time loop? In eight years, he was supposed to get a promotion and become an elite, a cultured and handsome older man. But now he’s reverted to his old self, this rough-and-tumble guy.’

He went to Song’s drawer and grabbed a lollipop. One needed to replenish their sugar when using their brain. Seeing this, Song just waved his hand, as if to say, "Take it and get out of here. Don’t get in my way while I’m trying to deduce who the culprit is."

Zhang Shutong sighed. ’You’re the one giving me a chance to show off,’ he thought, then said nonchalantly,

"Teacher, I know who it is."

As expected, Song Nanshan shot to his feet, grabbed his shoulders, and hurriedly asked, "Who?"

As he spoke, he glanced around warily, closed the office door, and whispered that this was safer.

Zhang Shutong only shared his own deduction, saying there might be a chance during the long break tomorrow. He deliberately avoided mentioning Li Yipeng. He was intentionally scheduling the parent meeting for Friday afternoon, which would ensure the arsonist would make their move at night, allowing them to be caught all at once.

The situation with Zhou Ziheng was less complicated. He would report his suspicions about Zhou’s father to the police. This would, on one hand, get the man under control, and on the other, allow the paper with the "handprint" to be sent to the city for analysis. The results would be back in a couple of days. There was no need to deliberately bait the hook and wander around with Gu Qiuyan for a whole day like before.

So, Zhang Shutong hadn’t come here just to show off; he had a more important goal. He analyzed that smashing the castle was likely a metaphor for dissatisfaction with the Gu family’s mall, mentioned the conflict over the commercial street, and then played the recording of the Lake Fish Restaurant’s owner for Song. This was all for one purpose: to get his attention.

"So what should we do?" Song Nanshan asked instinctively.

"Call Gu Qiuyan’s dad. Tell him to come back immediately, and to send more people." This was Zhang Shutong’s real objective.

Before, the bodyguards had arrived on Saturday night, and Father Gu didn’t show up until Monday. Zhang Shutong planned to move this timeline up. Even if the real culprit wasn’t caught by then, he refused to believe that Gu Qiuyan could still be harmed with a whole house full of people protecting her.

Song nodded and went to make the arrangements. However, just like with his mom, Father Gu’s phone couldn’t be reached.

"He’s probably on a plane. He left the island right after dropping Qiumian off this morning," Song Nanshan analyzed.

"Then as soon as possible," Zhang Shutong said with a nod. He urged Song to keep this matter in mind, and while the teacher was still looking surprised, apparently not expecting things to be resolved so quickly, he gave a yawn and slipped away.

Only then did he realize how truly exhausted he was. He had been pulled back in time in the middle of his sleep on Saturday night, then spent half a day running around eight years in the future, and then came back. The mental fatigue was impossible to erase. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been on the verge of collapse before.

Zhang Shutong planned to use this time to get some sleep. When he returned to his seat, he found someone else was there.

His deskmate was slumped listlessly on her desk, her coat folded beneath her. One hand propped up her cheek while the other swiped at her phone.

Seeing him approach, the girl glanced at him before looking away again without a word.

Zhang Shutong pulled out his chair and sat down. He actually had a few things he wanted to ask her, but she was clearly not feeling well and wasn’t in the mood to talk. Besides, what would he even say?

Zhang Shutong decided not to press his luck and just glanced at Gu Qiuyan.

He didn’t know when she’d put her phone away. Her head was tilted slightly, her hands stacked under her face, squishing one of her cheeks flat. Her thick eyelashes blinked from time to time, as if she were lost in a daze.

He figured he probably didn’t need to nag her to ’drink more hot water’—even he knew that line was guaranteed to earn an eye-roll from a girl.

The curtains beside them were drawn, blocking the snowy view outside.

Waves of warmth rose from the radiator. The classroom lights were off, leaving the room dim and quiet. Most people were napping. Drowsiness was contagious, so Zhang Shutong lay his head down too. The sound of soft breathing next to him drowned out the wind and snow outside. He closed his eyes, his nerves relaxing bit by bit, overcome by a sudden sense of peace.

He never used to like napping in the classroom; he’d always felt stuffy. But now, he didn’t have a choice.

Just like how he used to feel awkward sleeping next to Gu Qiuyan. It was like the old saying, ’How can another dare to snore beside the royal bed?’ But he didn’t have the energy for jokes like that anymore. He just wanted to lie there quietly for a while.

A faint, elusive fragrance wafted into his nostrils. He took a sniff, feeling like he was about to develop a new skill: being able to tell who was next to him just by this scent.

Zhang Shutong didn’t know anything about perfume, nor was he sure if the scent on Gu Qiuyan was perfume at all. He couldn’t distinguish between sandalwood, citrus, or floral notes... He was generally insensitive to smells, but after smelling it so often, it had become ingrained in his memory.

He lay there quietly with his eyes closed and heard a rustling beside him. Zhang Shutong turned his head to look and saw that Gu Qiuyan had also closed her eyes. She had draped her wool coat over herself, leaving only her small face exposed. Zhang Shutong had seen her peaceful sleeping face before, at the nail salon. He subconsciously made a comparison. The Gu Qiuyan now had her brows slightly furrowed; it seemed her stomach was hurting badly.

’Some girls just seem to need to be protected.’

The thought came to Zhang Shutong out of nowhere. It sounded like something Song would say. But Song had never said what to do when you’re the only one who remembers certain things. He didn’t have time to be sentimental. Instead, he forced himself to fall asleep as quickly as possible so he could gather his strength for the next step. He closed his eyes.

Time trickled by slowly, the ticking of the clock’s hands seeming to grow clearer.

Until the bell signaling the end of the lunch break finally rang, Gu Qiuyan blearily opened her eyes.

A few strands of hair were stuck to her lips. The girl had low blood sugar and would always be in a daze for a bit after waking up. She yawned out of habit and slowly started to sit up from the desk, but a cramp in her lower abdomen made her groan in pain. She clutched her stomach and sank uncomfortably back down.

Maybe she had caught a chill. She felt really unwell today, even during the nap.

It was as if she’d had a very sad dream. She was in a classroom at night. The lights were off, and an old black-and-white movie was playing on the projector screen. The ending was a little melancholy. Why was she watching a movie in an empty classroom? There seemed to be someone sitting next to her, but she didn’t know who... She tried hard to turn her head to see, but she wasn’t sure if she ever saw their face, because that’s all she remembered upon waking.

She subconsciously glanced at the seat next to her, but it was empty.

’It was just a dream.’

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