Winter Time Rendering

Chapter 171: Chapter 73: Cyan Snake Temple

"Four years ago, when you came for her funeral, I told you not to take it so hard. You have to let go eventually..."

’A funeral?’

To be honest, Zhang Shutong was starting to feel allergic to the word.

He quickly pieced together the information he had: Song’s ex-girlfriend had died in a car accident; she was from the island; Song had come to the island four years ago; and it was winter.

The funeral the officer mentioned must have been for his ex-girlfriend.

Smaller places put more importance on these customs. Her body must have been sent back to the island for the funeral.

So Song’s reason for coming to the island wasn’t to "find a place to relax," as he’d claimed.

’A funeral, winter...’

’Then what did Song mean just now when he said, "Sorry to have troubled you"?’

’What business did he have with the police?’

’Could it be related to the car accident?’

’But didn’t the accident happen in the city?’

Zhang Shutong’s forehead unconsciously bumped against the glass door. The cold sensation snapped him back to his senses. Shaking off his thoughts, he resumed eavesdropping, but to his disappointment, they merely glossed over the events of four years ago.

"How have you been lately?" the middle-aged officer asked.

"The usual. Teaching, wandering around the island in my free time. It’s pretty relaxing."

"You still shouldn’t stay in a small place like this."

"Ah, I’ve gotten used to the quiet life."

"Was that your student just now? He looks a little familiar." The officer habitually glanced back into the lobby, and Zhang Shutong quickly ducked to the side.

In his peripheral vision, he saw Song give a wry smile.

"Oh, he was probably here last night. It’s a long story..."

There was no need to hear this part. He had indeed suspected Song before—suspected that the car accident was connected to the Gu family. But Qingyi had specifically looked into it later. The drunk driver from that year had already been sentenced; the perpetrator was someone else entirely and had nothing to do with Gu Qiuyan’s murder.

Zhang Shutong returned to the row of chairs and checked his phone. It was almost four in the afternoon, around the middle of third period. He opened his messages again; still no reply from his mom.

Zhang Shutong thought about plots from TV shows. ’Maybe I can take this chance to go look through the case files?’

But Conan was a lie. He couldn’t even find the archives room.

Even if he found it, Zhang Shutong had no desire to spend his weekend at the police station.

The warm air inside made him feel sluggish. He seriously considered Song’s suggestion. He really did need to make a trip to Gu Qiuyan’s family villa. ’How long would it take to get from there to the forbidden zone? How many routes are there, and which is the best way to go... I’ll start by taking a car to scout it out.’

Today was Thursday.

Zhang Shutong realized his schedule was packed. ’Ideally, I’ll discover something tonight, use all of Friday to prepare, and then wrap things up Saturday night. That should be the plan.’

Looking outside again, he saw that Song and the officer had already stubbed out their cigarettes, brushed the snow from their shoulders, and were pushing open the main door to come back inside.

He didn’t know what the two had talked about, but the officer patted Zhang Shutong’s shoulder. "You did a good job, young man."

The officer made a lighthearted comment and seemed about to leave in a hurry, probably having other matters to attend to. But Zhang Shutong stopped him, "Sir, can I get your number?"

The middle-aged officer seemed a bit puzzled but gave him the number anyway.

He saved "Officer Wang" in his contacts, right next to "Officer Xiong," as if he were collecting stamps. He planned to call him when he had a chance and ask about Song.

’If reputation points were a real thing,’ Zhang Shutong thought, ’I’d have maxed out my rep with the police department by now.’

Song sat down next to Zhang Shutong and chuckled as well.

"What’s this? Planning to become a cop in the future?"

Zhang Shutong shook his head. He was actually a pretty lazy person.

"You just did a good deed last night—the banner hasn’t even arrived yet—and now you’ve done another one today. I just asked. Although there’s no cash reward, the school and the police station said you can pick out a small gift. Have you thought about what you want?"

Zhang Shutong was still thinking, but one thing just led to another. Soon, Zhou Ziheng’s mother arrived. She started crying the moment she saw Song Nanshan, which gave Song a major headache. He couldn’t think of anything comforting to say, but a stern expression wouldn’t have helped either. It was the dean of students who came to the rescue, telling the teacher and student to head back to school and that he would handle things from here.

As they were leaving, the dean added a final instruction for Song:

"When you get back, keep a close eye on student Gu Qiuyan’s condition. This heavy burden falls to you, Teacher Song..."

Song agreed profusely, his words making it seem like he couldn’t wait to fly straight back to school. But once they had left the police station and walked some distance away, he stretched languidly.

"What a day... What a mess... Come on, let’s go buy a bottle of water."

He was back to his usual rambling self:

"I didn’t even eat lunch. How about I show you around? By the time we get back, it’ll be fourth period anyway. Doesn’t matter if we’re a little early or late."

The police station was located in the city center, at a major intersection. There was a small convenience store right across the street, and Zhang Shutong remembered that Du Kang’s family restaurant was nearby.

Zhang Shutong didn’t mind, but Song sighed and said, "I almost forgot, Qiumian is still waiting. Never mind, never mind."

They went to the convenience store and bought two cans of Red Bull. Song also got four roasted sausages—the kind that are always rolling on the machine. He gave one to Zhang Shutong. He himself polished one off in just a few bites, and by the time they reached the car, he was already holding two empty bamboo skewers.

The Fox started up again.

Song’s mood was clearly different on the way back. He was about to turn on the radio to listen to some music, but Zhang Shutong didn’t give him the chance. "Teacher," he said directly, "I have a few questions to ask you."

"What’s up? Go ahead."

"How much do you know about Lu Qinglian?"

Song went pale with shock. He even stopped eating his sausage. "So that scratch paper wasn’t wrong after all! I, your teacher, thought you only liked Gu Qiuyan. Turns out you’re hung up on another one! You can’t be eating from your bowl while staring at the pot! That is absolutely unacceptable!"

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