Winter Returns

Chapter 116 Courage (Part 2) (Bonus Chapter, Please Vote!)
“An auntie,” Xiao Li recalled. “She said she had to go see her nephew, but there was something going on at home, so she left when the ambulance arrived.”

“But why would an ordinary person go to the suburbs?” Zhang Shutong asked subconsciously.

“You’re a student, most people wouldn’t even ride a motorcycle onto a boat,” Xiao Li chuckled. “Why she was there is not my concern. My only responsibility is to get her safely to the hospital.”

Just then, the phone rang. Zhang Shutong thought it was his mother calling, but it was Du Kang. He answered the phone, and the other person said anxiously:

"Shutong, it seems Lao Song was in a car accident. I'm on my way to the hospital. Are you nearby?"

"Wait, how did you know?" Zhang Shutong asked in surprise.

"My aunt came to visit me on the island this afternoon. She took a bus to the island. She gets carsick and felt a little nauseous, so she got off and walked around for a bit. She happened to see a car accident and even helped call an ambulance."

“My aunt was talking to my dad just now. She said it was a man who was seriously injured; the front of his car was almost completely destroyed. And you know, after lunch, Lao Song went out and didn't answer his phone. So I got suspicious and asked what kind of car it was. She said it was a small red car. I realized then that it was Lao Song!”

It turned out that Du Kang's aunt had saved Lao Song's life by a twist of fate.

Zhang Shutong explained the whole story to him, including how she met Lao Song while receiving an IV drip at the hospital, and how she got on the boat with the ambulance.

"Okay, wait for me in the city, I'll be right there."

"You guys coming too?"

"No, I wasn't with Ruoping and Qingyi. Her dad dropped us off this afternoon and we all went home. I just thought that if Ruoping was with Lu, she definitely wouldn't make it back to the island by the time she came out. Besides, she'd cry again if she found out. Didn't you say Lao Song was fine? Let's just wait until things settle down before telling her."

"As for Qingyi," Du Kang paused, then said seriously, "Shutong, although I still don't understand what you're busy with, it must be something important. I'm not as quick-witted as you and Qingyi, and I haven't been able to help much lately. I thought I'd let Qingyi stay. He's full of ideas, and he might be able to help you if anything happens. As for me, I'll go to the city to keep Lao Song company. If anything happens, I'll contact you. If I can't help my brother, I can't at least hold him back, right?"

Zhang Shutong subconsciously wanted to ask how much more help he wanted, since he had clearly helped him find Li Yipeng, rode his bike to the villa to test the nanny, and finally caught Zhou's father together on the rooftop.

But then he realized that these were all things that had already disappeared.

Now the other party feels a little embarrassed, feeling that they haven't been of much help.

"You've already helped a lot." Zhang Shutong paused for a moment. "Don't overthink it."

Du Kang chuckled:
"Then you can keep an eye on Lao Song. I'm waiting for the next boat, which goes to the People's Hospital, right? I'll hang up now..."

Zhang Shutong put away his phone and looked at the instrument on the bedside table. Colorful lines were jumping on the screen. He didn't understand the specific meaning behind these radio waves, but he knew that it was better for them to jump and thrash around than to become a straight line.

Zhang Shutong looked at the man on the hospital bed again, intending to say a few words to him, but found that he could not hear her no matter what she said.

Zhang Shutong really wanted to laugh at him, saying, "How could you, a seasoned driver, drive the car into a tree? Even I, a beginner driver, wouldn't make such a mistake."

But the man who was saying at noon, "This is nothing, I can cause much more trouble than you," has now closed his eyes.

Why are you lying here?
Zhang Shutong still couldn't accept it.

He never imagined that Old Song would turn out like this.

The other person can remain single and live a haphazard life, but like the lush reeds on the lake shore.

Eight years later, he could have slicked-back hair and wore gold-rimmed glasses, looking every bit the elite.

He could also drive that little Ford Focus around aimlessly, with his own Bulbasaur on the center console.

Zhang Shutong still doesn't understand what he's been doing all these years. Old Song understands him, but he has never understood Old Song.

Until he was completely unable to continue.

Zhang Shutong recalled his sheepdog and sheep analogy. He thought comparing himself to a sheepdog was a subtle way of saying he was a dog, but wasn't he a man himself? His parents were in a foreign land, his lover had passed away, he was teaching alone on a small island, he had no friends, little social life, his biggest expense was treating his close friends to a meal, his biggest entertainment was watching sports in his dormitory, and the things he was most familiar with were the clutch and gear shift in his car.

Actually, this man is more like a real stray dog.

Zhang Shutong didn't understand what he was searching for, or why he had chosen this life of self-exile. But there were things he hadn't said or asked before, and now it was too late to speak.

Nurse Xiao Li suddenly jumped up, and Zhang Shutong's heart skipped a beat. She saw Xiao Li pointing at the monitor:
"Oh no, his heart rate has dropped again!" He glanced at the lake outside, his face grim. "It'll take at least another half hour to get to the hospital, and that's not even considering traffic. It's Saturday, there's no snow in the city, and the People's Hospital is in the city center..."

He sighed at this point, "It all depends on his will to survive. You need to be mentally prepared."

Zhang Shutong nodded silently.

When the ferry finally docked, he had already gotten on his motorcycle. Zhang Shutong hadn't been to the city for eight years. Although he remembered many landmarks, he wouldn't say he knew the way like the back of his hand.

He gripped the brake and deliberately twisted the throttle with his other hand, the engine roared, and people around him turned their heads to look. But that was the effect he wanted. The crowd automatically made way for him. No one dared to stop a young man of his age riding a motorcycle, especially since he wasn't even wearing a helmet and his face was frighteningly cold.

Almost the instant the pier was lowered, he released his grip, and the motorcycle shot out like an arrow, with Zhang Shutong driving it in a straight line.

He was well aware of his current responsibility, which was to clear the way ahead. He and the ambulance quickly drove into the city, where they found themselves in a bit of a traffic jam.

It was already dark. In the steel forest formed by high-rise buildings, cars moved like flowing shadows and lights shone like a woven tapestry. Large and small halos of light intertwined in front of his eyes, creating a colorful and hazy scene. Even the emergency sirens of ambulances could hardly clear a path. He had anticipated this situation. He rode his bicycle through the gaps between the vehicles and went to each car window to wave to the driver.

He waved his arms and shouted. Some people noticed the ambulance behind him and made way for him. Others rolled down their windows and yelled at him, "What the hell are you rushing me for? Didn't you see the car in front? I don't care if you live or die!"

Some people didn't even lower their windows, or even turn their heads.

Nevertheless, he cleared a path for the ambulance.

He didn't know if he could buy a few minutes or a dozen minutes; this was all Zhang Shutong could do for his teacher.

By the time they finally arrived at the hospital, his face was numb. Zhang Shutong braced the bicycle, turned around and ran to the front of the ambulance. Fortunately, the hospital on the island had made prior arrangements, and several medical staff were already waiting at the door.

Xiao Li called to the others to lift the stretcher, and Zhang Shutong followed beside them, running all the way into the hospital's outpatient building. He looked at the bustling lobby and felt a little lost for a moment. This place was many times larger than the hospital on the island, brightly lit, and spacious like an office building in a commercial district. Zhang Shutong hadn't been here for too long, and the elevators were already full, so he hurriedly went to find the stairs, taking three steps at a time, and panting as he climbed to the third floor.

Actually, Xiao Li told him there was no need to rush. As long as Lao Song arrived at the hospital safely, at least half of his life could be saved. As for the other half, that was up to fate. But Zhang Shutong couldn't feel at ease until he saw him enter the operating room. The metal door of the operating room closed again, and the green light on it turned red. Next was the battlefield for the doctors and nurses of the city hospital. Xiao Li, on the other hand, was free. He told him to go to the service desk to get a cup of hot water and sit down to catch his breath.

"It's only 5:40. I'm so glad you rode your bike. Otherwise, we probably wouldn't have made it by 6:00. Your teacher was in really bad shape in the second half of the race. If it had dragged on until then, it would have been hard to say what would have happened."

Xiao Li finally breathed a sigh of relief:

"I'll call the headmaster first to report this. Oh, right, I remember you were getting your shot in the hallway, right? Did you have a fever or a cold? Sit down and rest for a bit. There's no use in your teacher being anxious..."

Zhang Shutong didn't respond; he put his phone back in his pocket.

“I have to go. This is my parents’ phone number,” he recited a string of numbers. “Please take care of them when they arrive.”

"Wait, you're leaving now? At least see your parents, right?" "Otherwise, I'll miss the boat." Zhang Shutong slapped his face hard. "The last boat is at six o'clock."

“Since your parents are both in the city, they shouldn’t have trouble finding a place to stay,” Xiao Li asked in surprise. “They can stay at a nearby hotel for the night. Besides, he should be out in two hours, and we probably won’t even have to wait until night. Aren’t you worried about your teacher’s safety?”

"I have to go back." Zhang Shutong had already started walking. "Thank you so much for today—"

"This isn't about whether you thank me or not. Your face turned pale, and you just rode your bike back like that. What kind of hero are you trying to be, student?"

The questions that were nagging at him had faded into the distance. Zhang Shutong didn't have time to wait for the elevator; he ran to the stairwell and took one last look at the operating room.

This is not about playing the hero.

Instead, it's best not to let go while you still have the ability to hold onto something.

Otherwise you'll regret it.

These are the words a man once said to himself.

Zhang Shutong withdrew his gaze, hurriedly ran down the stairs, put on his helmet and gloves, twisted the accelerator again, and just as he turned out of the hospital grounds, he saw a black SUV. He recognized it as his family's car, but he didn't have time to wave to his parents. They probably couldn't guess that he had already left. He brushed past the car and returned to the traffic in the city.

In just over ten minutes, the traffic jam had worsened again, and he was starting to feel cold again. He hadn't closed his eyes since noon. Zhang Shutong gritted his teeth and tried to keep his body low to the ground, as if doing so would reduce the amount of cold air he was exposed to.

Ahead was a tunnel, with a long line of vehicles. When he was clearing the way, he had even made a conscious effort to remember the surrounding roads. Little by little, the memories resurfaced in his mind, and Zhang Shutong recalled which places were impassable for cars but accessible to motorcycles.

He didn't let up on the accelerator, driving the car through the gaps in the road. He calculated the time; there were still nine minutes left before the ship departed.

The car was already way past the speed limit. He stared blankly at the road ahead, his mind already somewhat numb, but an inner voice told him to keep running without stopping. He really was a stray dog…

Zhang Shutong turned into a park, lifted the wheels, and leaped up the steps, even he himself was amazed by his own skill.

Eight minutes left.

Next was a pedestrian street where young, fashionable men and women strolled along. Startled by the roar of motorcycles, Zhang Shutong walked halfway down the street and found a garbage truck blocking his way.

He slapped his thigh, realizing that choosing to take a shortcut would indeed bring its own set of problems.

For some reason, this truck was collecting garbage at this time, or rather, collecting garbage from the entire street. It had to stop every few steps. He took out his phone again and saw that Du Kang had asked him how Lao Song was doing. He replied with a voice message, waited patiently for another half minute, and then resolutely turned the truck around.

Six minutes left.

Every minute and every second must be fought for now.

He had already planned a new route in his mind. He rode his bike out of the pedestrian street and turned into a narrow alley. Even though Zhang Shutong wasn't a believer in fate, he hoped his luck wouldn't be so bad. The alley was dark, and he sped along silently. Fortunately, there were no potholes or accidents. The light from streetlights gradually appeared ahead. He stopped deliberately slowing down, twisted the throttle to the maximum, and the rear of the bike swung sharply, turning onto an asphalt road—

This is also the last road leading to the dock.

The road finally widened, and the roadside trees and streetlights crisscrossed, rushing past. The tachometer was already close to the red line. When the port finally came into view, he suddenly froze for a moment because the sound of ship horns was already ringing in his ears.

Zhang Shutong was forced to apply the brakes and nearly fell over.

It's 5:55 now. He had given himself five minutes, but he was still late.

He miscalculated something, or rather, overestimated the dedication of his staff. It was cold today, so they took a little shortcut and started working a bit earlier than the scheduled departure time, so they could leave work earlier.

The ferry's broad hull has slowly moved away from the shore.

He is now about ten meters from the shore, and the ferry's pier has been retracted, only half a meter away.

He knew that the number would keep increasing, becoming one meter, two meters, three meters... until he could no longer catch up.

He didn't say anything, silently pressed the clutch, then floored the accelerator again, the tires screeched and white smoke billowed out.

His actions have already been noticed:
"Hey, you on the motorcycle, what do you want—"

He stared ahead, praying that his father had the best eye for cars. This was the car he was going to take his mother for a drive. The two were a loving and romantic couple, and he must have pulled her into all sorts of cool and difficult maneuvers in the past.

So, it must work, right?

The deck is now a meter away from the shore.

There is a difference in height between the deck and the ground.

The ground is high, the deck is low.

All told, Zhang Shutong had only been riding this motorcycle for two days, and even including all the previous times, it hadn't been more than a handful of times. He knew a term called launch control, which involved fully turning the throttle while releasing the clutch to the optimal engagement point, allowing the motorcycle to reach its maximum speed.

But he had never tried this move before and only had a vague concept of the so-called optimal point of contact.

Two days ago, he learned to drive on a snowy night. Someone told him that he was exceptionally talented and born to drive.

He laughed it off at the time, and of course, the operation of motorcycles and cars is different. But if he hadn't succeeded that time, he might not have dared to try.

Passengers on the opposite ferry noticed his actions, took out their phones, and subconsciously made way for him. Countless eyes were focused on him, whispering and pointing, and some staff members on the shore started running towards him to stop him.

All sorts of people came into view, and the noise was kept out of the helmet.

Through his goggles, Zhang Shutong crouched low, the engine roaring at its last gasp; dust billowed, the smell of burning tires filled his nostrils. He abruptly released the clutch, finding the perfect engagement point by feel, and the motorcycle surged forward, leaving a trail of afterimages as it sped off the road, tracing an arc through the air—

After a brief period of weightlessness—on the ground, on the lake—he had already fallen onto the ferry while riding his bike.

The tires hit the ground, the shock absorbers compressed to their limit, and then rebounded violently. The car continued for half its distance before stopping, the tires making a teeth-grinding sound on the deck. His body swayed uncontrollably to one side, barely managing to brace himself with his hands and knees.

The surrounding crowd scattered in panic, and out of the corner of my eye I could see staff members running over to question me, their faces contorted with anger.

It is 5:56 now.

We finally caught the last ferry...

But Zhang Shutong felt no relief or joy, only a deep weariness.

(End of this chapter)