Winter Returns

Chapter 123 A Night of Drizzling Rain
The bag of breakfast cookies was quickly half empty.

Zhang Shutong began to recall what the movie was about.

It seems to be saying the same thing from beginning to end:

If you know that something will inevitably come to an end, and the outcome cannot be changed.

What can you do?
But this is my impression after watching it before.

Now it's different.

Zhang Shutong was glad that he had used up the last bit of fuel in the motorcycle, rewriting the ending before it came to an end.

As he stared at the screen, his mind wandered. The worst-case scenario he imagined was that the murderer would show up at midnight, and Gu's father, with his bodyguards, would catch the culprit. Just as he was about to let his daughter know he was safe, he would find that she was gone. At that moment, he would take Gu Qiu Mian back. Although their secret escape would be discovered, at least it would prove that the trip wasn't in vain.

I hope I won't be blamed by the big boss.

But there's nothing you can do if you're blamed.

He was getting sleepy again.

"I'm going to wash my face."

Zhang Shutong quietly walked out of the room.

The same movie, the same people, but different times and places, inevitably lead to different moods. His attention was actually hard to focus on the screen. He was always thinking about what could not be done well enough, whether Gu Qiu Mian was really safe... In fact, he was internally depleting himself.

The only one who might feel somewhat guilty is Lu Qinglian.

Zhang Shutong wasn't too worried about her safety, since Lu Qinglian had already fought with the other party, and there were bodyguards in the villa. Any disturbance would cause a commotion. He had promised Gu Qiumian that he wouldn't go out again, and this time he didn't break his promise. However, he had made promises to more than one person, and in the end, he still broke his promise. Once you make a choice, the other path will naturally disappear. That's life.

Ruoping is right. If he goes down there now, he will only be a burden. One should not be arrogant. There is no one who is indispensable. One should always correct one's mistakes. He silently recited these words as he washed his face. When he looked up again, he was startled by his own appearance.

It turned out that the hospital mirror was too dirty, so dirty that his face had turned grayish-white, but it couldn't hide his exhaustion. He looked at the dirty water stains on it and finally sighed.

I touched my forehead again, and it felt hot again.

He staggered back to the observation room.

The observation room, as the name suggests, is used for observation. There is a small round window on the door, which allows a clear view of the situation inside.

Zhang Shutong walked very lightly. He originally wanted to push the door open and go in, but through the window he noticed that Gu Qiumian's eyelashes were gradually overlapping.

It turns out she was also very sleepy.

But I forced myself to stay alert.

Is there something you're worried about?
Zhang Shutong pushed open the door. She seemed to wake up with a start, blinking hard.

Has your fever gone down?

“I’m much better,” Zhang Shutong said. “If I can’t hold on, I’ll go next door for an injection. Nobody gets sick in the hospital, that’s stupid.”

"Oh." She nodded belatedly.

Zhang Shutong sat down next to her and asked if she wanted to continue watching the movie. She said of course, and I said I would watch it with her until the end.

In reality, both of them were fighting to keep their eyelids open, as if they both wanted to get the other to fall asleep before they could close their eyes in peace.

But how could she endure it? Zhang Shutong watched as her head slowly drooped, her breathing became shallow, and she even stopped eating the cookies.

The competition has been put on hold.

Because Zhang Shutong's phone rang again.

Old Song woke up again. Just now, he seemed to be struggling with the anesthetic, leaving behind only one sentence before falling into a coma.

"He told you to go to his dorm room quickly, open the second drawer, where his ID card is. He needs it for hospitalization and it can be used for reimbursement. Just take a picture and send it to him. He has something to leave for you."

Du Kang's original words were as follows.

Song Nanshan is a rather unreliable adult male.

He forced himself to wake up the first time in order to become the matchmaker.

I woke up a second time to claim my hospital bills.

These are Du Kang's original words.

"In a hurry?"

"The first thing he said when he woke up was about this, which I think was quite urgent."

"I see."

Zhang Shutong hung up the phone.

"What's wrong? What's wrong?" Gu Qiumian asked, rubbing her eyes.

"Something came up with Old Song."

Zhang Shutong didn't mention his ID card because it couldn't be. There were two key points in that sentence: one was that he was to go to the dormitory "alone," and the other was that he had something left for himself.

Zhang Shutong wanted to figure out what exactly he meant by "It was my fault".

He knew where Lao Song's dormitory was; it was near the school, about a ten-minute walk away.

Zhang Shutong glanced at the time; it was 11:20.

"Are we still going out?" Gu Qiumian asked, a little unhappy.

"Of course not."

"Humph."

"What humph?"

"You clearly wanted to go out just now."

Zhang Shutong did stand up just now, but he sat back down in his chair, feeling that nothing was more important than getting through this early morning.

"Sorry, sorry." To prove his innocence, he simply handed the motorcycle keys to Gu Qiu Mian. The girl snatched them away and snorted, as if to say, "You're smart to know what's good for you."

Zhang Shutong thought to himself, "How come this is almost like taking my secret stash of money?"
He was unusually conflicted for once, but now that Gu Qiumian was outside the villa, he deliberately took a detour on his way to the hospital, choosing to ride along tracks. It was safe, but Zhang Shutong still felt he couldn't leave her there alone.

Never mind, let's talk about it after tonight.

Just as I promised her, I watched Roman Holiday.

Although he was still a little uneasy, he became less anxious after making up his mind. His heart gradually calmed down as he watched Gu Qiu Mian struggle with her eyelids again. However, Miss Gu had thick eyelashes, so to put it nicely, she was actually fighting with her eyelashes, determined to win.

Seeing this, Zhang Shutong smiled, knowing that she was exhausted. She had been singing all day and was about to go to sleep, but he had suddenly dragged her out of bed.

The small room gave people a sense of comfort. He turned down the TV volume. Zhang Shutong was also very sleepy, and his eyelids gradually closed.

However, the next moment, he was suddenly awakened by a chill.

deck.

Ferry.

Lake surface.

Zhang Shutong was stunned.

Wait, wasn't he asleep in the hospital's observation room? How did he suddenly appear here?

He examined his hands, then looked around blankly. What was going on? Had he been transported back eight years? How could this be? Gu Qiu Mian was right beside him, and he knew what the trigger for the time travel was: the world before him was vibrating, followed by the feeling of his soul leaving his body… But this time, when he closed his eyes and opened them again, he was back.

This doesn't feel like a flashback; it feels more like a dream.

Zhang Shutong noticed more anomalies. He was alone on the deck, the sky in the distance was dark with piled-up clouds and rumbling thunder was brewing. The lake was shrouded in thick fog, making it impossible to see where they were.

The world has completely changed. Is this... really the ship back to the island?
With a whoosh, the rain poured down.

A man emerged from the cabin, holding an umbrella.

"As expected," the man sighed softly, "you still forgot."

"You are..." Zhang Shutong recognized the voice. His clothes were instantly soaked, and he was frantically wiping the water from his face when he exclaimed in surprise, "Qingyi?"

“This is an extra opportunity.” Qingyi’s face was hidden under a black umbrella.

"What do you mean?"

"I can't say it, because if I do, you can never go back." After saying this, the other person fell silent. After a moment, he said again, "Gu Qiumian."

Gu Qiumian?
Zhang Shutong didn't have time to ask why you suddenly brought up Gu Qiumian. His heart skipped a beat. "She's dead again?"

The man said softly, "She didn't die, but she hasn't had a good life these past few years."

"Why is she..."

"This is an extra opportunity."

"What opportunity? What opportunity? Can you explain clearly? Hey bro, you're a chuunibyou, not a riddle master!" Zhang Shutong wanted to say something witty in his dream, but his temples were throbbing, and his head was throbbing. Suddenly, some very sad emotions surged in his mind, and some images flashed by: a snowy night, a bicycle, a villa, a girl crying, a man and a woman in a pool of blood, a bloody hole in the man's temple, a pistol in his hand, followed by a black and white portrait, a grand funeral... What on earth is going on?!
But before he could think of anything more, Qingyi said again:
"On December 9, 2012, in the early morning, you made a choice that wasn't exactly wrong, but it wasn't exactly correct either. Now you've paid a price and found other uses for 'it,' so you've asked me to relay a sentence." "What sentence?" Zhang Shutong asked instinctively.

Then Qingyi's tone suddenly changed, and he said coldly:
"Go to the dormitory."

Go to the dorm!
A bolt of lightning exploded overhead.

Zhang Shutong suddenly opened his eyes.

He leaped up from the chair, but then a deeper exhaustion overwhelmed him, and Zhang Shutong collapsed back into the chair, his heart pounding.

The familiar room came into view, and he was back in the previous moment, in the observation room of the hospital. A black and white movie was playing on the small color TV, the air conditioner was blowing warm air, the smell of medicine filled his nostrils, and he had a bag of breakfast biscuits that was almost finished in his hand. Beside him was a sleeping girl. The night was quiet, the days were peaceful, and everything was as it was before.

Zhang Shutong immediately looked at his phone. The time was 11:21. It seemed like it really was a dream. He had just accidentally fallen asleep. It was clear that the ghost had a nightmare, dreaming of a lot of random things, rather than actually triggering a time rewind. Time continued to pass as usual, but an indescribable palpitation had taken root in his mind.

He remembered that sentence.

"This is an extra opportunity."

An extra opportunity? Or has he been so stressed these past few days that he's even starting to have delusional dreams?

Zhang Shutong rubbed his face in frustration. He recalled Du Kang's phone call. Could it be that he had missed some clue? No, he should say that he subconsciously felt he should go to the dormitory to check, which is why he dreamed about it.
Old Song said it was urgent; the first thing the other party told him after waking up was this, which represented his attitude.

The early morning seems to be an extremely important moment, as his choices will determine the future.

What is a choice that is neither right nor wrong?

Is this a manifestation of the subconscious?

But he's leaving Gu Qiumian here to go to her dormitory alone?

The hospital was certainly safe, but Zhang Shutong felt something was missing.

But you won't have to worry about it for long.

He heard a commotion in the corridor and rushed out. He saw the nurse struggling with a man in the corridor. It turned out to be a drunk man who was acting crazy and was harassing her.

He was about to step forward to help, because the drunkard had already started cursing and physically assaulting him. The nurse was a good person, and he felt he should help her out of both compassion and reason. However, the next moment—

With a bang, the nurse kicked the drunk man against the wall with a high kick, her tight-fitting nurse skirt slit open.

With a thud, the man slid to the ground.

"Hey, is this for real?" Zhang Shutong stood there, stunned.

Is this really a hospital, or is it really okay for nurses to treat patients like this?
Does that mean he hasn't woken up yet?
"Don't tattle on me, for the sake of the sunflower seeds."

To everyone's surprise, the other party suddenly smiled, clapped his hands nonchalantly, and dragged the drunkard inside.

Zhang Shutong quickly followed and saw the nurse drag the man into the dispensing room. Then, she calmly took out an iodine swab and began to disinfect the drunk man's wound, which was exactly the spot she had just hit.

“My sister was on the provincial combat team back in the day,” she said.

"Really? Aren't you a nurse?"

"If I injure my opponent, I'll get a lifetime ban and then retire. It just so happens that I have some knowledge of bone-setting techniques."

"..."

Zhang Shutong suddenly thought that this was practically a bodyguard who had fallen from the sky.

"If I go out now, could you please look after my friend? I'll be back soon."

"Aren't you going to shut up yet?" The other person threw the cotton swab into the trash can.

"Something has come up with the teacher, I need to go over there."

"You must be really busy..." the nurse sighed and said, "Actually, there are people patrolling, but since you said so, I'll help keep an eye on things."

Such fighting skills may not be as good as Lu Qinglian's, but she would probably be a champion in the city, much stronger than me.

Now that there was double insurance, Zhang Shutong thanked him again. He returned to the observation room and, after thinking for a moment, decided not to wake Gu Qiumian.

Looking out the window, the dormitory wasn't too far away. He had just borrowed the bicycle key from the nurse, and it would only take ten minutes to go back and forth.

He pulled his coat up, turned around, and went down the stairs.

He hopped on a women's bicycle, and the front of the bike wobbled a bit in the cold wind. Zhang Shutong exhaled a breath of stale air, wondering if he had acted impulsively, suddenly running out of his mind just because of a dream.

But there's nothing more to say now. Since he's out here, he should ride as fast as he can and get back as quickly as possible. His energy and stamina are running low, and it's purely the memory of his muscles and bones that keeps him going.

It was 11:30 a.m., and he could get back before midnight no matter what. In another half hour, he would arrive on Sunday, December 10th.

This is a very important day. Gu Qiumian was murdered on this very day. He had triggered the time travel in the early morning before. Of course, it is not very meaningful to dwell on the early morning now, because Gu Qiumian has long since escaped danger. The wheels rolled over the thin layer of snow on the road. The moonlight was desolate. He just didn't know where the end of this snowy night was.

Perhaps there is no definitive conclusion; it simply depends on whether he still wants to keep making trouble.

If you want, then just stay up until sunrise with dark circles under your eyes and that's it.

If you don't want to, just go to sleep and you'll wake up in the early morning.

The moonlight cast a long shadow of him. The street was quiet, and he was all alone, accompanied only by the drifting plastic bags.

Six minutes later, Zhang Shutong rode to the dormitory building.

He turned on his flashlight and went upstairs. It was a tenement building built in the last century. There were no individual balconies; instead, there was a long terrace right outside the door. The toilets were also shared. In this kind of weather, you had to run outside with your arms wrapped around yourself to get up at night. The soundproofing was practically nonexistent. To be honest, the conditions were extremely harsh.

Zhang Shutong thought that if we look at it from a future perspective, Lao Song's life was a bit miserable. He was clearly a teacher in the city with a tenure and a stable job. He wasn't exactly young and promising, but he was quite capable. The average English score of his two classes in the fourth year of junior high school was extremely high, and they were able to surpass some schools in the city in the joint exam.

He wasn't exactly dashing, but if he dressed up, he'd be a handsome guy, and he'd be quite popular on blind dates. But he had a moment of weakness and ran off to the island. Now he's almost thirty, and he used to hang out with his Ford Focus every day. Now the Focus is gone, and he's a complete bachelor.

Zhang Shutong remembered that Old Song's room was on the second floor, at the far north end. When he got to the door, he realized that the old man hadn't said where the key was. Zhang Shutong sighed and rubbed the carpet in front of the door with his foot. This was a rough man. Why would a rough man carry a key with him? He probably lost it someday and must have hidden it under the carpet.

Sure enough, he pulled out a separate key.

Zhang Shutong pinched his nose and opened the door. To be honest, he had some idea of ​​how slovenly a single man could be, but in reality, there were no underwear lying around or socks that could stand on the floor. On the contrary, it was very clean.

Did you go to the wrong place?
Zhang Shutong was about to leave to double-check when he noticed a stack of exam papers on the desk. Well, it seems this really is Lao Song's dormitory.

He closed the door and turned on the light. It was a small room of about 30 square meters, with no living room or bedroom. The room was right inside the door, and everything was very tidy. A bed and a writing desk were the only furniture, and an induction cooker and a small TV were the only appliances. The appliances were probably secondhand, and he had tied them to the front of the bed with a wire so that he could comfortably lie in bed, drink, and watch the game.

Zhang Shutong was stunned.

Because this simple and cramped room was filled with photos—single photos, couple photos, photos of women, or photos of men and women together. The man in the photos was, of course, the young Song Nanshan, and the woman was a girl with short hair. She wasn't particularly pretty, but she had big eyes and dimples when she smiled.

Zhang Shutong suddenly became somewhat clear-headed. He turned his head and looked around. The woman's figure was everywhere, hanging on the headboard, placed on the windowsill, on the table, and even pasted on the wall. These were not specially taken artistic photos, but just simple snapshots of daily life. Old Song said that he was so poor back then that he had to sneak out of the cinema to watch a movie, so he certainly couldn't afford to be a photographer. Those snapshots were probably taken with a mobile phone. There were photos of her back at sunset, group photos from trips, photos of her with disheveled hair after just waking up, and photos of her holding a cotton candy in an amusement park.

These photos were taken at least four years ago, because the short-haired girl in the photos passed away four years ago. You can imagine how bad the camera quality was four years ago – it was practically garbage. It might have been passable on a small two- or three-inch screen, but now that they've been printed and enlarged many times over, they're already blurry.

Those memories are probably already blurred and indistinct.

He glanced at the photos in the room again, feeling a pang of bitterness for Lao Song. Life on the island was incredibly monotonous, clearly divided into two parts: going to work and coming home. Aside from driving around aimlessly, the man had little social interaction or entertainment. Every time he came home from get off work, he would see these photos. Being alone in this room, Zhang Shutong felt incredibly heavy-hearted just thinking about it.

But he didn't want to delve into the reasons for the time being, because he had important things to do. Once this matter was completely over, he would buy a bunch of beer and get drunk with his teacher. What did it matter that minors couldn't drink alcohol? To hell with that.

But speaking of beer, he did see several scattered cans and Red Bull sports drinks on the desk. These bottles were piled on the windowsill, the metal window frame was badly rusted, the window was not closed properly, and a corner of the paper on the desk was blown up. Zhang Shutong had a lot of effort to close it.

Now he found the second drawer under the desk, where there were rows of cigarettes and an ID card on top. This ID card was definitely not what he was looking for.

Perhaps it wasn't even a physical item at all?

Zhang Shutong looked at the photos around him and had to admit that they touched him, but it couldn't really be just these things. He wondered if it was all a false alarm. He felt that the dormitory was some important clue, but there wasn't one.

Zhang Shutong pinched the bridge of his nose. He thought of that dream again, the image that flashed through his mind: a man lying in a pool of blood. Could it be that the murderer was stronger than he thought, and that even so many bodyguards were no match for him?

But he clearly remembered dreaming about a gun, a man holding a gun, it was suicide... His mind was in a complete mess. Finally, he sat on the bed, trying to sort out his thoughts. Heaven knows how rushed Zhang Shutong was. He came to the dormitory without stopping after waking up, and only now did he have time to catch his breath.

The bed beneath him was a very hard iron frame bed, but a small solid wood cabinet stood at the head of the bed, which seemed out of place.

Zhang Shutong had a sudden thought. He looked at the bedside table, which had two drawers.

If Du Kang's relaying was not wrong, Lao Song said that the things he left for himself were in the second drawer, but he didn't say which drawer it was. At the time, Zhang Shutong thought that it was already very difficult for him to wake up under the anesthesia, so it was normal for him to miss some details.

But he now realizes that the reason he didn't need to explain in detail was simply because only two pieces of furniture had drawers.

One of the desks held his ID card and the cigarettes he always carried.

One is a bedside table, and what's inside is currently unknown, or perhaps the other party has given the choice to me.

For a man, his desk may hold secrets that concern his life and fortune, but no matter how important they are, they can never compare to what's in his bedside table. Apart from underwear and condoms, what you can reach out and touch every night before going to sleep must be the secret that holds the softest spot in your heart.

Zhang Shutong opened the bedside table, and there was a notebook lying inside.

The laptop had a black leather casing, looking like it was given out at a school meeting. He touched the leather; it was sticky and hard, indicating it was quite old.

Zhang Shutong turned to the first page, where he saw familiar handwriting; it seemed to be Lao Song's diary.

The first sentence is—

"Yun, I saw you again today."

(End of this chapter)