Winter Time Rendering

Chapter 178: Chapter 76: Gu Qiuyan’s Secret

His eyes quickly adjusted to the bright light. The heating was on full blast, and the breeze from the central air conditioning tickled his cheeks.

Acting on the principle of not wanting to be a bother, Zhang Shutong first bent down to brush the snow from his trouser cuffs. However, he wasn’t the one in charge here. He was on the Young Miss’s home turf, so naturally, he had to follow her lead.

"Put your backpack down first. Isn’t that heavy?" she ordered, carrying her little boots.

Zhang Shutong did as he was told and set down his backpack.

"Take off your coat, or you’ll catch a cold."

The Young Miss issued another command as she took off her scarf.

He sighed and complied. ’You’re so bossy,’ he thought.

"Hang it here." Gu Qiuyan nodded in satisfaction, pointing her chin at a hook on a cabinet.

Zhang Shutong felt a bit flustered, but since he was a guest in someone else’s home, he figured he should just go with the flow.

"Next, slippers. Let me see..."

She was wearing light gray tights today. With her boots off, only a thin layer of fabric covered the soles of her feet as she stood on her tiptoes, searching for slippers.

Gu Qiuyan muttered,

"Ugh, hurry and grab them for me. I can’t reach. They’re on the..."

Before she could finish, Zhang Shutong had already reached over her head and pulled a pair of slippers from the second shelf. They were a perfect fit, not too big and not too small.

He knew that’s where the guest slippers were kept.

Gu Qiuyan froze.

"Did I even finish my sentence?"

"I’m taller than you. I could see them," Zhang Shutong teased.

The housekeeper watched the two of them at the doorway with a warm smile.

"This is Aunt Wu."

Gu Qiuyan introduced them.

Zhang Shutong greeted her. The woman told him not to be so formal. "You two must be freezing. Hurry and come eat."

The Young Miss commanded again,

"Don’t forget to wash your hands..."

Zhang Shutong didn’t need the reminder. He headed for the bathroom like he owned the place. He turned the brass faucet, and perfectly warm water immediately flowed out, making him sigh in comfort as it ran over his skin.

Over the sound of the rushing water, he could see Gu Qiuyan’s reflection in the mirror. She looked like she’d seen a ghost.

"Did I tell you where the bathroom was?" she asked, her eyes wide. "How did you know where to go?"

"Lucky guess."

Zhang Shutong laughed to himself.

’I also "guessed" that you have a set of burgundy pajamas,’ he thought. ’If I said that out loud, it’d scare you to death. But Zhang Shutong wasn’t a pervert, so he kept that thought to himself.’

After drying their hands, the two of them headed to the dining room.

The table was already set with bowls and chopsticks.

A grand, square dining table sat under a brilliant crystal chandelier. A quick glance revealed a dazzlingly bright marble tabletop, large enough to seat eight people.

The head of the table was empty. Song and Aunt Wu sat on one side, while Zhang Shutong and Gu Qiuyan sat on the other.

Dinner was a sumptuous spread:

creamy crucian carp soup, lotus root with pork ribs, green peppers stuffed with meat, and crystal meatballs. The portions weren’t huge, but every dish was meat-based.

’Qiumian really is a carnivore,’ he thought.

Two more dishes were added afterward:

scrambled eggs with tomato and stir-fried tofu with scallions.

Zhang Shutong couldn’t help but wonder:

’How is a casual weeknight dinner at her house better than a meal I’d eat out at a restaurant?’

And yet, as Aunt Wu ladled soup for everyone, she turned to Song and said apologetically,

"It’s a simple meal, I hope you don’t mind."

Song quickly took the ladle from her. "This is better than what I eat in a week! Even restaurant food isn’t this well-prepared. We’re the ones imposing on you."

Zhang Shutong knew this was just proper etiquette. He followed his teacher’s lead in expressing thanks and took the ladle.

"We have to thank Qiumian, too. After all, we’re only here because of her," Song added, his high EQ on full display.

"Yes, we’re basking in your glow," Zhang Shutong chimed in, his own EQ not lacking, as he ladled a bowl of soup for the young miss.

Gu Qiuyan huffed, seeming begrudgingly pleased.

After the pleasantries, everyone picked up their chopsticks. Zhang Shutong picked up a crystal meatball. Its outside was made of glutinous rice, and the inside was a meat filling mixed with water chestnuts. He’d only ever seen them on his phone; he’d never actually eaten one before.

It was impossible to expect his own mother to make such a time-consuming dish. She only knew how to make stews. Zhang Shutong dreaded her stir-fries—they were always either burnt or watery.

He then picked up a piece of the stuffed green pepper. It was coated in a savory, slightly sweet sauce. The sauce was rich, the pepper was crisp, and the meat filling was tender.

After two bites, he completely forgot about the duck noodle soup he’d been craving.

Sometimes, you only crave something because you haven’t had anything better.

The only problem was that he and Gu Qiuyan kept "fighting."

Zhang Shutong now realized she was left-handed, and she was sitting to his right. The chopsticks in the young miss’s house were ceramic—they looked expensive and were long and heavy. The tips of their chopsticks had already bumped twice.

Zhang Shutong scooted his stool over a little, but she seemed displeased and shot him a glare.

Zhang Shutong continued to struggle with the ceramic chopsticks. ’Sometimes, you can’t judge a person’s wealth by external things like cars, clothes, or bags,’ he thought. ’It’s the little details of their daily life that give it away.’

Take their tableware, for instance. His own family was reasonably well-off, but their dishes were never part of a matching set. They just grabbed whatever was convenient—sometimes a small dish, sometimes a bowl, sometimes a plate.

In contrast, at this dinner, everyone had a soup bowl, a plate, and even a small saucer for discarded bones set before them.

These items, along with the serving platters, were all part of a matching set with a celadon glaze and faint patterns. Even the chopsticks and spoons were designed to go with them.

And when Zhang Shutong had washed dishes here that other day, he’d noticed there were several other, similar sets.

Then there was the chandelier overhead. At first, Zhang Shutong had found it a bit glaring, but who would have thought that the vintage-looking art piece was actually dimmable and even came with a small remote?

Now, the light was soft and warm, making the glaze on the tableware shine with a translucent luster. It was exquisite, yet it didn’t overshadow the food or detract from its natural colors.

As he ate his rice, Zhang Shutong thought, ’Qiumian is usually so low-key, but in reality, we’re worlds apart. We’ve always been from two different worlds.’

The meal went by quickly.

Although Aunt Wu was an excellent cook, he didn’t have a huge appetite. No matter how delicious something was, he’d just have a taste and be done. So, once he was about seventy percent full, he put down his chopsticks.

Song, on the other hand, wanted to eat more but couldn’t. He muttered that he shouldn’t have filled up on those three grilled sausages earlier.

As for Gu Qiuyan, her appetite wasn’t very big today either; she mostly just sipped her soup.

Aunt Wu went to the kitchen to do the dishes, and the three of them moved to the living room.

Gu Qiuyan asked if they wanted tea or coffee, but Song waved his hand dismissively.

"You should get some rest. We won’t bother you any longer. Besides, I still have to take Shutong home. Right, Shutong?" He turned his head as he spoke. "Wait, where’d he go?"

His favorite student had vanished.

Zhang Shutong was over by the door, studying it.

The front door had a keypad lock that could be opened with a card or a fingerprint. Zhang Shutong figured a frontal breach was unlikely.

There was also a side entrance—a massive floor-to-ceiling window that served as a patio door, facing the backyard.

Next to the large window was a smaller sliding door.

Outside was a covered walkway. He remembered making a call to Qingyi out there once. Zhang Shutong twisted the knob on the door and bent down to examine the lock cylinder.

If locked, it couldn’t be opened from the outside.

But it was nowhere near as secure as a proper security door.

’Could she have forgotten to lock it that night?’

Below the window was a raised platform of solid wood. He slipped off his slippers and stepped onto it, making almost no sound.

"Hey kid, what are you doing?"

an exasperated voice called out.

He turned to see Song and Gu Qiuyan staring at him in confusion.

"Just wanted to look around," Zhang Shutong said. "It’s my first time here, so I’m curious."

"Hey, are you leaving or not?" Song grimaced.

"No rush. You sit for a bit, have some water."

Zhang Shutong replied casually before jogging over to the elevator.

"See, Qiumian? This kid really makes himself at home," Song chuckled, crossing his legs.

Gu Qiuyan pretended not to hear. "So what are you drinking? I’ll go get it," she asked, her tone clipped.

"I don’t need anything. Don’t worry about me. Just give him the tour so we can get going."

Gu Qiuyan sighed at his words. "He’s so much trouble," she grumbled.

Despite her words, she walked over to the elevator. The girl clasped her hands behind her back and blinked.

"What kind of trouble are you stirring up now?"

"Can we go up and have a look?"

Gu Qiuyan nodded and pressed the open-door button.

As they entered the elevator, Zhang Shutong paid attention to the sound of its operation. It was just as you’d expect from a high-end residential model—almost completely silent, save for a soft sound as the doors opened and closed.

They arrived on the second floor and stepped into a long, narrow hallway laid with a dark carpet. Gu Qiuyan explained that there were three rooms on this floor: her bedroom, a piano room, and a guest room.

"What about your dad?"

"He’s on the third floor."

’Alright then.’ Zhang Shutong couldn’t fathom the eccentricities of the wealthy. ’A family that doesn’t even live on the same floor.’

He had heard that expensive wool carpets could absorb sound. Even if that wasn’t the case, this floor was clearly soundproofed. As they walked through the silent hallway, even their footsteps were completely muffled.

Zhang Shutong walked ahead, pretending to wander aimlessly while actually steering them toward Gu Qiuyan’s room.

But he had barely taken two steps before Gu Qiuyan called out to him.

"What’s wrong?"

"That’s my room over there. You can’t go in!" she protested.

"When we were parking earlier, I saw a window from the front gate. Was that your room?"

Zhang Shutong thought for a moment before adding,

"When I was at the police station today, I heard an officer say that Zhou Ziheng’s father had originally planned to send people here to cause trouble. I was just wondering how they would get in without being noticed."

"Oh, alright then." Gu Qiuyan hesitated for a moment before saying slowly, "But you can only look from the doorway."

Zhang Shutong naturally agreed. He stepped aside to let Gu Qiuyan lead the way. When she reached the door, she reminded him again,

"You’re not allowed to come inside."

’Why would I go into your room? It’s not like I have nothing better to do...’

Zhang Shutong thought with a sigh.

Then, Gu Qiuyan pushed open the door and flicked on the light.

As the light flooded the room, the first thing that caught his eye was another set of French doors. They opened onto a balcony, which was covered in a layer of snow.

Zhang Shutong remembered Gu Qiuyan leaning out from the second floor to talk to him that one night. So this was where she had been.

In front of the French doors stood a desk. It was tidy, holding stationery, papers, and a few girlish trinkets.

He wasn’t interested in Gu Qiuyan’s personal belongings and was about to ask if the balcony door had a lock when he heard her gasp. It startled Zhang Shutong. Thinking something was wrong, he didn’t have time to react before Gu Qiuyan frantically shoved him aside, rushed into the room, and slammed the door shut. BANG.

’What was that about?’

’Is her hypoglycemia acting up again?’

Zhang Shutong was completely baffled.

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