Winter Time Rendering

Chapter 186: Chapter 80: Unromantic

You cannot step into the same river twice.

That line was supposedly spoken by the ancient Greek philosopher Heraclitus.

The reason it suddenly popped into his head was because Zhang Shutong had finally figured out the difference between the shampoo and conditioner at Gu Qiuyan’s house.

He had already finished his shower.

It was strange, honestly. He ended up taking a shower every time he came here. But it had rained last time, and it was snowing today; he always seemed to run into bad weather.

A person’s perception of something is built from a series of fragmented impressions. If, many years from now, someone were to ask Zhang Shutong what this villa meant to him, his answer would probably be "good food and hot showers."

It was a little after nine. He was now sitting on the sofa, dressed in neatly ironed pajamas prepared specially for guests. They carried the faint scent of disinfectant.

In front of him was the television. For once, it wasn’t a sports game but a late-night movie. It was in English with no subtitles, and Teacher Song was watching with rapt attention.

Behind him, snow drifted down past the floor-to-ceiling windows. Snow, unlike rain, falls in silence. You only have to turn your head to find that the courtyard has become blanketed in it without you noticing.

He, however, was sitting stiffly on the couch, all because he was on the phone with his mom.

She had made a rare trip home today.

"Teacher Song’s car broke down, so I have to stay at a classmate’s house tonight..."

"Yeah, not Qingyi and the others. A different classmate..."

"It’s fine. I have a change of clothes, so I won’t catch a cold..."

His mom was a truly open-minded parent. She didn’t press him about which classmate it was, nor did she act like a typical parent, protesting, "How can you stay at someone else’s house? I’ll come pick you up." She didn’t even say, "Put your teacher on the phone. I need to confirm."

At most, she teased him by asking if it was a female classmate, but that was the very question Zhang Shutong dreaded most.

Luckily, he scraped by.

Actually, it wasn’t really "scraping by." His mother was a sharp woman and quickly guessed the classmate was Gu Qiuyan. Of course, she didn’t use her name, saying instead:

"It’s that girl you were worried about this afternoon, isn’t it? Don’t tell me it’s Boss Gu’s daughter?"

Zhang Shutong was very curious how she’d guessed, but she just said it was a woman’s intuition.

A woman’s intuition, much like a man’s sense of romance, was something that was mostly nonsense and conveniently flexible, yet always managed to leave you speechless at the most critical moments.

She asked a few more questions, and Zhang Shutong answered them honestly. He was surprised she didn’t pry further, but his mother just said with a smile, "When you’re out, your reputation is what matters most. If I’m too strict with you, you won’t be able to hold your head high in front of a female classmate."

"Or would you rather I gossip a little?"

Zhang Shutong certainly did not, so the call between mother and son ended there.

He didn’t dare use his phone anymore. The little device’s battery died easily, so he had to conserve it carefully.

Teacher Song was watching TV leisurely. For him, the villa’s main impression was probably the massive color TV.

Zhang Shutong, however, was in no such mood. He leaned back on the sofa, subconsciously twirling the damp ends of his hair while thinking about the forbidden zone and Lu Qinglian.

The housekeeper had already returned to her room.

The TV volume was turned down to its lowest setting, and only a single lamp was left on in the living room.

Gu Qiuyan was showering on the second floor.

Her room had its own bathroom.

"Still haven’t snapped out of it?" Teacher Song said casually. "My good student, learn from your teacher. Look at me, I’m not worried at all. I’ve already requested the day off for tomorrow."

That’s right. Teacher Song had just called the dean of students to explain the situation.

Although there was a garage with tools outside the villa, the tire had blown out. It couldn’t be patched, so their only option was to have someone bring a new one up the mountain tomorrow.

So, strictly speaking, not only did they have to spend the night, but they couldn’t even guarantee they’d make it to school on time tomorrow morning.

The small island didn’t even have a gas station. There was only one so-called auto repair shop, and it was far from professional. They’d be lucky if it could deliver a tire at all.

Teacher Song had just made the call and arranged for someone to come change the tire a little after seven.

Zhang Shutong noticed that for a homeroom teacher, he seemed rather excited, as if he’d found a legitimate excuse to slack off.

"It’s been so long since I’ve pulled an all-nighter," Teacher Song said. The only downside to the villa was that he couldn’t smoke, and he was clearly struggling. "Last time was back in college. You know, a few of us would throw a party, a whole table full of beer... oh, not even beer, we drank ’baijiu.’ We wouldn’t stop until we dropped. But once I became a teacher, I had to say goodbye to all that."

"What about at home, Teacher?"

"Watch sports, write lesson plans, play Fight the Landlord... Oh, right, do you know how to play cards? I could teach you two, and the three of us could play Fight the Landlord."

’Better not. The "landlord" is currently showering upstairs.’

Zhang Shutong thought.

He wasn’t in the mood for cards today. He actually wanted to go back to his room to be alone for a bit, but Gu Qiuyan hadn’t come down yet. For him to go up would be a little... Zhang Shutong didn’t know how to put it, but it just felt wrong. He decided to wait until she finished her shower.

Teacher Song seemed quite disappointed.

The two of them chatted idly. Zhang Shutong took the opportunity to send a message to Qingyi, asking him to look up the legends of the Cyan Snake Temple. He vaguely remembered that they had once discussed the "profession of a Temple Priestess" in their group chat. Zhang Shutong hadn’t thought much of it then, but now he wanted to get to the bottom of it.

There was limited information on the internet, but Qingyi’s father had a large book collection, which might include local gazetteers with some records.

Zhang Shutong turned his phone screen off again and stared blankly at the television. He wasn’t paying any attention to what was on, not until the fresh scent of body wash and a wave of moist air drifted over to him.

Zhang Shutong turned his head. The girl, dressed in a wine-red bathrobe, was standing behind him. The robe was velvet and revealed her long, swan-like neck. She was fanning her face with her hands. A faint blush colored her cheeks, making her look like a perfectly ripe fruit.

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