The alien Zhang Shutong pouted and said, "I promised Gu Qiumian to treat her to a meal."
Old Song was surprised again.
In fact, only Zhang Shutong himself knew that this was a backup plan. Although it might not be used, if the "real culprit" still hadn't surfaced by then, leaving the island to avoid a disaster seemed like a safe bet.
Old Song nodded and said, "Okay, no problem on my end. The key is whether Qiumian is willing to..."
As they spoke, the two of them rushed out of the teaching building. It was unknown when this snow would stop. The world was a white expanse. The two men, one big and one small, hugged their arms and ran to the parking lot—
It was actually just a bare concrete ground. Yingcai Middle School didn't even have a bus. If Old Song's car wasn't so small, it would probably have been requisitioned often.
Old Song opened the trunk and threw a towel to Zhang Shutong, telling him to wipe the rearview mirror. He took out a mop and started to sweep the front windshield. The master and apprentice were quick. Zhang Shutong asked while exhaling white mist, "What about the other teachers?"
"Only the dean of students went. He has a car and just left with Zhou Ziheng," Old Song smacked his lips. "You know, a police car driving into the school campus really doesn't look good. But don't worry, Qiumian's attitude is very firm. She wants an explanation, and the principal can't say anything either."
"That's good." Zhang Shutong breathed a sigh of relief. This was a butterfly effect. Last time he didn't tell Gu Qiumian, and Gu Qiumian... she didn't seem to ask much about it. She probably didn't want to ruin her mood, so she left it to others to handle.
But this time, the two of them had a good discussion in the library. Except for the line she added herself, everything else went smoothly.
"You don't know, Qiumian is quite scary when she's cold-faced. It's the feeling of a truly rich family, you know? She doesn't even have to speak, and the dean still has to ask with a smile whether this is okay or that is okay..." Old Song bared his teeth. "You better be careful from now on, boy. Do less of what you did this afternoon. Otherwise, if something really happens, I won't be able to protect you, you understand?"
But Zhang Shutong said he didn't understand.
He thought about Gu Qiumian's scary side—
But it was hard to imagine. Maybe Zhang Shutong was just brave, but he couldn't associate the word "scary" with her.
"Alright, get in the car."
Old Song threw the mop into the trunk. Zhang Shutong sat in the little Focus car again. This time the seat was dry, but the air conditioning wasn't very effective. They warmed the car up for a while, but the cabin still didn't get warm.
"The Japanese air conditioners are more effective. I should have bought a Civic," Old Song mumbled, shrinking his neck.
Men are not only experts in the field of relationships but also in the field of cars.
"I say, Shutong," Song Nanshan looked at the engine water temperature gauge, shifted gears, and drove off. "I suddenly remembered. What did you mean just now when you said you wanted to learn to drive? You weren't kidding?"
Zhang Shutong nodded.
Old Song was then relieved and said, "That's right. As a man, it's time to be interested in cars. Let your teacher tell you slowly..."
Zhang Shutong listened helplessly as he gave him a lecture on various car knowledge. In fact, he wasn't interested in cars. He just needed a reliable vehicle. He couldn't keep riding his bicycle around in the cold weather.
The car drove out of the school gate smoothly. There were few people on the street today. Old Song used his hands and feet, changing gears while telling him the operating principles and precautions. Zhang Shutong listened attentively. He had a good brain and remembered the gist of it after hearing it once. But Old Song said that understanding and knowing how to drive were two different things. "You'll know when you get a chance to try it yourself."
Zhang Shutong looked at the snowy scenery outside the window and asked if they had to go downstairs to shovel snow again tomorrow. Song Nanshan said, "We'll see if the snow stops. The weather forecast isn't reliable. Who knows when it will stop."
"Why did it suddenly snow?" This was still the most puzzling question for Zhang Shutong. He looked at the snowflakes and mumbled to himself.
Zhang Shutong didn't expect Old Song to answer. He was just chatting casually.
"The weather is unpredictable." Song Nanshan smiled calmly, his face full of a man's composure.
He thought, "Can you say something auspicious? I'm afraid of unpredictable weather."
But this question was indeed nonsensical. Zhang Shutong simply shut up and enjoyed the air conditioning.
But Old Song continued:
"This is nothing. Did you forget four years ago, around the same time? It snowed even more heavily that time. Some parts of the entire Xuanming Lake froze over. Even boats couldn't get out. It even made national news..."
Zhang Shutong thought for a moment and said, "Why don't I remember?"
The two of them compared notes and realized that Zhang Shutong hadn't transferred schools yet when that snow fell.
"Oh, I forgot that you and Qiumian came in the next semester," Old Song recalled. "That was my first year here, my first winter. I thought what a cursed place this was. It's in the middle of nowhere. All there was was snow and more snow. I would huddle in my quilt at night eating instant noodles. Damn it, I regretted it so much. I had to leave as soon as possible. But then the leaders said the school was short of teachers, so I should bear with it for a while. I thought so too. My first class was this class, so I couldn't just run off in the middle of teaching. So I bore with it. I didn't expect to stay here until now. Little Song has almost become Old Song..."
With that, Song Nanshan rolled down the window, subconsciously took out a cigarette in the falling snow, lit it, and said with emotion:
"It's the fourth winter."
He reached out his hand, casually caught some snowflakes from outside the window, looked at his palm, and finally stopped his gaze on the Bulbasaur on the center console.
Zhang Shutong knew what the man was reminiscing about, but this time was different from before. Old Song didn't talk much about girls, so he didn't bring up that past again.
Zhang Shutong didn't know whether he should ask... maybe it was best to let this matter remain buried in the other person's heart.
He thought of the man in a suit with his hair neatly combed that he had seen eight years later. Their conversation was too short back then. Zhang Shutong forgot to ask him what happened to the Focus, if the Bulbasaur was still on the center console, and if the man was married.
It would be best if he was married. Maybe his child was almost eight years old. Otherwise, he couldn't have kept himself so neat.
Zhang Shutong tactfully offered a line from a song, "Did you dedicate your youth to the glorious city behind you?"
"Oh, you know this song?" Old Song was first stunned, then he smiled. "But my youth is halfway over. You guys are just getting started. In the blink of an eye, you little brats have grown up too. Do you remember how tall you were back then?"
Song Nanshan said this and gestured with his hand:
"A meter seventy at most, about the same as Ruoping now. To be able to watch you all grow up, how should I put it, sometimes I feel that staying here for four years was worth it."
Zhang Shutong heard the subtext and asked if the teacher was planning to change jobs after this class.
"Who knows what the future holds," this time, Old Song finally didn't speed. Instead, he concentrated on driving carefully. He stared ahead. "Your teacher is a person who can't sit still. It's been quite frustrating to be cooped up here for the past few years. If I have a dream, it's probably to go out and travel?"
"Then you can really endure." Zhang Shutong said with a laugh, "No wonder you drive around every weekend."
"I can't sit still. There's not much to see on our island. Oh, except for a temple on the mountain, which is Qinglian's family's place. It barely counts as a tourist spot. I've been there a few times to burn incense and even ran into Qinglian, but you know, it's so strange. Think about it. You're a teacher, you go to a temple to burn incense, and the temple keeper is your own student, wearing a long robe. Oh, and you have to pay a little for the incense, and the one who collects the money is her. It's really strange..."
Old Song's urge to complain was strong.
Zhang Shutong thought to himself that this was not strange. Thankfully, technology wasn't advanced. A few years from now, if she were to casually take out a QR code for you to scan, that would be truly strange.
Old Song tapped the steering wheel boredly:
"What other places are there to go? Qiumian's family's mall? I occasionally go shopping. It's actually pretty good. I recently discovered a window selling cooked food in the supermarket. It tastes great. Sometimes I buy some to take home as a side dish with alcohol. I'll take you to try it someday... Speaking of which, I just remembered that her dad did give me several gift cards."
"Oh, a bribe." Zhang Shutong thought that he would be able to see the person selling the cooked food later.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Old Song didn't care. "But what good are these to me? When I go home for the New Year, I buy some gifts, and that's about it. What kind of expenses can a single man have? I could take a color TV back, but what would I do with it? Use it as a decoration?"
It seemed that Old Song also had a lonely side.
Zhang Shutong felt a sense of empathy and thought it was similar to his own situation back then. He also had money but nowhere to spend it. He didn't need small expenses, and he didn't have enough for big ones, so he kept saving it. As a result, he saved it all for nothing now.
Zhang Shutong then joked, "Then why did you come here back then? Weren't you looking for trouble?"
"Actually, I wasn't planning to teach here. I wanted to come here to clear my head," Song Nanshan said casually. "Four years ago, something happened. I was feeling down in the city. It just so happened that my ex-girlfriend was a local, but I never came here even once. Plus, there were no fun places around. I thought I might as well come and see the scenery. They say that looking at lakes and mountains can make one feel better... That's actually quite true."
Zhang Shutong was stunned upon hearing this.
He got two new pieces of information from this.
Of course, the first one wasn't that new. He had already guessed it. The "something happened" that Old Song mentioned was probably his ex-girlfriend's car accident. He probably didn't want to be reminded of the past, so he simply changed cities.
The second one was a bit surprising. It was the first time he knew that Song Nanshan's girlfriend was also from the small island.
So, he went to work in his deceased lover's hometown?
But why?
He had thought that Old Song left the city to avoid being reminded of her, but wasn't this getting closer?
Or, after his girlfriend passed away, only her elderly parents were left at home, and Old Song came to support them?
Then why did he have the idea of quitting his job?
Zhang Shutong didn't really want him to recall these sad memories, but he still subconsciously asked:
"Then what about your girlfriend, teacher?"
"Her? There was an accident between us, so we broke up." The man's tone was very understated, and he casually ruffled his hair. "Alright, don't worry about your teacher. You should..."
He was about to say that he should be more enlightened, but then his expression became strange. This kid seemed to have suddenly become enlightened today and no longer needed him to teach him?
So the master and apprentice sighed at the same time, a faint sadness flashing through their hearts.
Song Nanshan sighed because he had no one to pass on his experience to, so he was very regretful;
Zhang Shutong felt that the time was still not right. Since Old Song clearly didn't want to talk about his girlfriend, he couldn't keep prying. It was even more unnecessary to deliberately trick him into talking. He still remembered the lesson from the cold-blooded route.
He then said lazily, "If you're lonely in the future, teacher, just come find us. My parents aren't home often anyway, and Ruoping and the others also want someone to mooch meals off."
Old Song laughed and scolded, "You only think of me when you want to mooch meals, right? What do you guys want to eat this week? I'll take you. Let's even call Qiumian and Qinglian."
When he said this, Old Song became excited:
"How about I take a few of you to have some fun during the winter break? We won't go far. Did you know that a new highway was built in the past few years? It takes less than three hours to get to the next province from here. The development over there is pretty good. There are aquariums and amusement parks, things that you're interested in. How about it? Do you want to go?"
Zhang Shutong was quite interested in the aquarium. How could a person who likes fishing not like an aquarium? He said, "Of course I do." He counted on his fingers. It was early December now. The upcoming holidays were Christmas, New Year's Day, winter break, and then the Spring Festival.
No one was more eager for this weekend to pass than Zhang Shutong.
He subconsciously looked forward to his future life. The wind coming from the driver's side wasn't cold. Instead, it was refreshing, but it also pulled him back to reality. Zhang Shutong then shook his head, feeling that Old Song's ability to divert the topic was first-rate.
The police station was not far from the school. They were almost there. In Old Song's words, the engine hadn't even warmed up yet. They parked on the side of the road and walked into the hall in the snow.
Small places have some unconventional but effective methods. Zhou Ziheng's father rushed over. When the school contacted him, they just said that his son had a conflict with other students. Zhou's father probably wondered what kind of conflict would lead to the police station. As a result, he was taken away without saying anything. The father and son were questioned separately, and the matter was quickly settled.
The arson plan was also confessed by the other party, including the paper with the fingerprint.
In fact, even without that paper, Zhou's father, as the mastermind, knew who the participants were. Plus, now that confessing to an accomplice could reduce his sentence, the man was naturally very cooperative.
Who knows how many people with the guts but not the courage were also confessed by him. It was probably another sleepless night for the police on the small island.
The commercial street dispute finally came to an end.
It was even smoother than Zhang Shutong had imagined.
Except for when Old Song saw Zhou Ziheng's father and was stunned. It was amazing that Old Song didn't know him. He wanted to say hello and ask, "Brother, why are you here? What happened?"
Then he just watched in a daze as the man was taken away.
Old Song was sad that he couldn't have his braised pork liver anymore. Zhang Shutong and he sat on the bench in the hall waiting for the result. He asked strangely, "How come you don't know Zhou Ziheng's dad? How are you his homeroom teacher?"
Old Song said helplessly, "His mom always comes to the parent-teacher meetings. Besides, this isn't the city. Parents can meet when they come to pick up their children. You guys just ride your bikes and leave. I'm not a local, so I don't have many acquaintances. Who knew that was his dad..."
As a result, as soon as Old Song finished speaking, an acquaintance really did arrive. A middle-aged police officer came up to them:
"Teacher Song, long time no see."
Song Nanshan stood up and shook hands with the other person, exchanging pleasantries for a moment:
"...I really appreciate what you did for me back then."
"It's nothing, you're too kind."
The two of them then pushed open the glass door and went outside to smoke. Zhang Shutong was already bored, and his curiosity was piqued by the conversation. What connection could Old Song have with the police?
Was his car stolen?
So he quietly walked to the door, hid half of his body, and felt that he was becoming more and more like a detective recently. Through the thick laminated glass, the intermittent conversation of the two was mixed in with the whistling cold wind.
Old Song lit a cigarette for the police officer. The snowflakes fell on the black police hat. The other person lowered his hat and squinted:
"...When you came to her funeral four years ago, I told you..."