Winter Time Rendering

Chapter 189: Chapter 81: That Princess-like Girl (Part 1)

"What is it?"

Zhang Shutong asked Gu Qiuyan, catching a faint glimpse of her delicate collarbones.

’Is she worried I’ll sneak into her room?’

Speaking of rooms, he wondered if he was being too forward. This guest room hadn’t even been assigned to him, yet he had come up here on his own.

The hallway was quiet, the door ajar. Through the opening, the dark carpet and patterned wallpaper complemented each other perfectly. The classical atmosphere made her look like a princess who had just stepped out of an oil painting.

Now the noble princess stood at the bedroom door, questioning the runaway knight:

"What are you doing up here all by yourself?"

"Chatting with a friend. I didn’t want to disturb you guys." The knight had a valid excuse.

"Is it that important?" The princess was exasperated.

"It’s pretty important."

"So are you done talking or not?"

’What does "done" even mean?’

Zhang Shutong thought for a moment:

"You go on ahead. I’m just going to go to sleep after this."

But Gu Qiuyan pushed the door wide open without another word.

"Who said you could stay here? You’re sleeping downstairs tonight."

"What about Teacher Song?" Zhang Shutong remembered there were only two guest rooms on the first floor, and one of them was the maid’s room.

"He’s on the third floor."

’How many guest rooms does your family have?’

He had underestimated Miss Gu’s methods. It would be easy for her to deal with him on her own turf.

He had no choice but to try a different approach:

"I’m a bit tired today. Sorry."

Gu Qiuyan fell silent, her expression visibly icing over.

"Then just stay here by yourself!"

She pulled the door shut and left without a backward glance.

Her hair wasn’t dry yet. When she whipped her head around, it felt as if a fine mist had splashed onto his face. Zhang Shutong wiped his nose and watched her hurry into the elevator and descend without a sound.

The hallway was quiet once again. The felt carpet absorbed all sound. The door was wide open now, but the frame revealed only the expensive wallpaper. It was like an oil painting that had lost its subject, leaving only the background.

No matter how intricate the pattern, it had lost all meaning.

Zhang Shutong closed the door, fell back onto the bed, and called Qingyi.

"What happened just now?"

"Gu Qiuyan showed up." Zhang Shutong stretched his limbs lazily, his whole body feeling like it was about to fall apart.

"Oh, I forgot to ask earlier, how did you end up staying at Gu Qiuyan’s house?"

He explained briefly, and Qingyi said in surprise:

"And you’re still chatting with me?"

"What else would I be doing?"

"You should be downstairs watching a movie with her, of course! It’s snowing outside, the light from the TV illuminating your faces... it would be so romantic."

"She’s watching a Zhou Xingchi movie," Zhang Shutong reminded him.

"Oh, on second thought, never mind."

’Wait, wait, wait.’

Zhang Shutong finally realized—since when did this guy’s romance playbook start including women?

’Shouldn’t he be saying something like, "a man’s idea of romance is a walk in the snow"?’

He sighed.

"Does that make me seem weird?"

"Weird is an understatement."

"I think Gu Qiuyan was angry just now."

"It’d be weirder if she wasn’t."

"But I’m just not in the mood." Zhang Shutong didn’t want to move a muscle. If it weren’t for a few questions he needed to clear up, he would have just passed out. "I know it ruins the mood when everyone’s all happy and you’re the one sulking in a corner like some antisocial little kid, but... Forget it. Let’s get back to business."

He asked again:

"What were you suggesting I do earlier?"

"I was suggesting you secure the keys first. Her family should have a spare set, right? Then tell Gu Qiuyan not to go out at night for a while. And doesn’t she have that dog? Once her dad gets back, things should be more or less fine."

"Maybe." Zhang Shutong rubbed the bridge of his nose. He didn’t know if he should tell him he was oversimplifying things. That’s what he had thought last time, too, and yet Gu Qiuyan had still been harmed.

"You seem a little stressed," Qingyi said, puzzled. "I’m treating this like a brain teaser, but Shutong, why do you give off the feeling that this is something that will definitely happen?"

"I’m just a deep thinker," Zhang Shutong joked casually. "Actually, I’m worried Lu Qinglian will be a threat to her. It’s similar to the dispute on the commercial street—isn’t her family’s temple slated for demolition? Even though there’s no financial motive this time, there might be something even more troublesome than money involved."

"Then you should still go down and watch the movie. Relax a little. Haven’t you heard the saying? Carrying everything on your own shoulders is actually a sign of arrogance."

Zhang Shutong thought about it. He didn’t feel arrogant, just used to it.

He didn’t really want to talk about this anymore.

But he wasn’t very interested in the movie, so he started chatting with Qingyi about other things. As they talked, they pulled Ruoping and Du Kang into the conversation. Du Kang didn’t reply—he was probably busy—but Ruoping joined in enthusiastically.

"I was just watching TV! The snow here even made the city news. We should go build a snowman tomorrow, what do you say?"

"No," Qingyi was the first to refuse. "Have you forgotten about last year when it snowed? You said you wanted to build a snowman and called the three of us to lend a hand. And what happened?"

Zhang Shutong remembered, too. The three of them ended up responsible for *building* the snowman, while she was responsible for keeping her *hands* in her pockets and taking pictures from the sidelines. A real "helping hand," indeed.

"I have experience this time..." Ruoping said, forcing a smile to cover her embarrassment.

"A wealth of picture-taking experience, you mean?"

"Qingyi, I’m going to kill you!"

Zhang Shutong stopped talking. He just smiled and listened to the two of them bicker, finding it surprisingly sleep-inducing. He switched to speakerphone, tossed his phone on the pillow next to him, and stared blankly at the ceiling.

"I’d rather go skiing. There’s a slope behind the mountain that isn’t too steep. Shutong said Song’s tire blew out. Why don’t we ask for the tire, nail a wooden board to the bottom, and make a sled?"

"Yeah, yeah! We can make it after school on Friday and go on Saturday. Let’s see... didn’t we say we were going to buy birthday presents on Saturday? We can buy them in the morning and go in the afternoon."

He listened as the two of them hashed out their itinerary. Just as he was about to chime in, there was another knock on the door.

The chatter from his pillow had drowned out the sound of the elevator door opening, so his reaction was a beat too slow.

Zhang Shutong glanced at his phone. Only six or seven minutes had passed. ’Could it be that Gu Qiuyan hasn’t given up and still wants to drag me downstairs to watch the movie?’

A headache started to form. No matter how good the villa’s soundproofing was, you could still hear voices from inside the room if you stood outside the door. He had just said he was tired, and now he was casually chatting with his best friends. To Gu Qiuyan’s ears, it would sound like he was a blatant liar.

It was like asking someone out to dinner, and they tell you they have a fever and can’t go, only for you to run into them at a restaurant that same evening, laughing and chatting with other people.

Sure enough, the knocking stopped. The person outside seemed to have heard the cheerful discussion inside.

Zhang Shutong ended the call, sat up in bed, and braced himself as he opened the door. Gu Qiuyan’s face had gone completely cold.

His time as her lackey hadn’t been for nothing; he could tell whether she was genuinely angry or just pretending.

For example, on the way home, when she told him to replace her thermos with an icy expression—that was an act.

This time, however, it was real.

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