Winter Time Rendering

Chapter 194: Chapter 85: "Hostage" (Part 2)

Zhang Shutong wasn’t a complete fool. He turned away, at a loss for words. After thinking for a moment, he could only say, "Please don’t blame yourself. I’m used to everything, really. The food is delicious, the housekeeper is very welcoming, the bed is comfortable, the villa is huge..."

’It’s just that this kind of life isn’t for me.’

He said his goodbyes to the housekeeper. She opened the main gate for him, telling him to come and visit again when he had time. Zhang Shutong nodded, but hoped he would never return.

It was, of course, freezing outside. He reflexively tightened his down jacket, but it was a thin, women’s style that didn’t offer much warmth. He was wearing sneakers, and after only a few steps, he felt his socks grow damp. Icy snowmelt was starting to seep through. He had intentionally decided against the rain boots. While waterproof, they were a size too big and would have slowed him down in the snow.

’I can change as soon as I get home, so I’ll just have to make do for now.’

He had long been accustomed to making do.

Making do with food, with clothes, with life in general. And so, Zhang Shutong secured his pant legs and stomped his feet hard. He’d read in some online article that it promoted blood circulation, though he figured if the source was reliable, it wouldn’t be just some random article.

’It’ll be better once I start running.’ He quickened his pace and texted his mom that he was on his way, soon leaving a long trail of footprints in the snow.

Zhang Shutong was focused only on moving forward and didn’t look back, so he didn’t notice whether the second-floor curtain had been drawn aside.

He soon left the Xiaolu in front of the villa. The vast expanse of white snow distorted his perception of distance, making all living things seem tiny between heaven and earth. At last, he reached the Ring Mountain Road. Bracing himself against the mountain rock, he took a careful step forward. He looked up; the mountain itself was also covered in white. ’I wonder if shouting would trigger an avalanche.’

’Better to be safe.’

Zhang Shutong remembered the general layout of the road and chose the safest route. For someone on foot, there was nothing to worry about besides the cold. It wasn’t like driving a car, where one careless mistake could send you skidding off the road.

He kept an eye on the time. After five minutes, he took out his phone and sent Song a message on QQ.

This stretch of road felt exceptionally long. Everything was quiet, the snow acting as a perfect sound insulator. He remembered the pit from last night—falling in would be a real pain—so he made a point to take a slight detour around it.

Soon, another five minutes had passed.

He had overestimated his sneakers. The muscles in his feet began to cramp. Zhang Shutong knew the feeling of cold hands—an urge to hide them away as quickly as possible. You could shove them in your pockets or breathe warm air onto them; there was always a warm refuge. But his feet? They had nowhere to hide.

It reminded him of those little figures made to dance on a scorching hot plate. But he couldn’t stop. The longer he stood still, the colder he would get.

Then, as he walked on, his foot struck something hard.

His stomach dropped. He crouched down and dug it out. Another frozen snake. Its body was arched in a comical posture, as if it had been flash-frozen while trying to move forward.

It was daytime now, so he could see it more clearly. The snake’s eyes were wide open, its vertical red pupils devoid of any light. A creeping horror filled Zhang Shutong. He lifted his head, dazed, and saw nothing but an endless expanse of white.

’Just how many snakes are buried under all this snow?’

He was on a deserted stretch of the Ring Mountain Road. To his left was the towering mountain; to his right, a steep cliff. The road was utterly silent.

’But what if the snow melts? Will the road be revealed, teeming with a dense mass of snakes?’

’Are they all crawling in swarms toward the villa?’

Zhang Shutong shuddered, and it wasn’t from the cold.

Just then, his phone vibrated. A call from Song. Only then did Zhang Shutong realize another five minutes had gone by.

"What’s going on over there?" Song asked urgently.

"Nothing’s wrong..." Zhang Shutong replied quietly, starting to walk again. "I just saw another frozen snake."

"So many of those damn things?"

"Yeah, something’s not right about this. You guys be careful. Lock your doors and windows."

Zhang Shutong hung up.

He even started to wonder about the dog that had died. ’Was it the snakes? A venomous one?’ But on Friday evening, he had distinctly seen pieces of ham sausage outside the fence. Zhang Shutong knew he wasn’t mistaken; he trusted his memory. Even so, he felt a subconscious urge to find someone to confirm what he’d seen.

But there was no one who could corroborate his story.

Song had "seen" it, but no longer "remembered."

As the fourth five-minute mark passed, Zhang Shutong paused. He carefully walked to the edge of the road and estimated the distance. From this vantage point, the villa was no longer visible. He had about a third of the way to go, which was more or less what he’d calculated.

His feet were gradually going numb.

It was only a twenty-minute journey—normally not even enough for a warm-up—but this time, it was an arduous struggle. Right. A walk in the snow was anything but romantic. The residual warmth from the villa had completely dissipated. But Zhang Shutong knew this was only the beginning; he hadn’t even gotten far from the starting line.

He still had to make a trip up the mountain later. The path would be even more difficult then, with far more uncertainties. His only regret was not bringing sunglasses. He had to stare intently at the path to move forward, but after a while, his eyes would lose focus. His vision would become a dizzying, uniform expanse of white.

He rested for a moment, taking shallow breaths. After sending a quick update on QQ, Zhang Shutong embarked on the final stretch.

He’d always been a quick study—he’d learned to drive fast, and he could even figure out the best way to walk through trial and error. For some reason, the snow was thinner on the second half of the path. A stretch he had estimated would take ten minutes took him just over six, and then he saw the entrance to the Ring Mountain Road in the distance.

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