Chapter 18: The Little Matters Between Tong Tong and Mian Mian

It is said that large administrative sedans are generally over five meters long. This piece of useless trivia suddenly popped into Zhang Shutong’s mind.

It followed, then, that the gate of the school, "Yingcai Junior High," could not be wider than six meters.

In front of that gate, a girl named Gu Qiumian stepped out of a car. She was wearing a chic light-brown skirt paired with grey leggings, which could not hide the slender lines of her calves. Zhang Shutong didn't understand women’s fashion, but he vaguely sensed a retro vibe.

She looked like a stylish girl strolling down the street, her bright, lively aura masking the ancient feel of every corner of the city. Yet, this was a small island, and she seemed to have awakened the morning's vitality.

Her small leather boots stood daintily on the ground. As Gu Qiumian leaned halfway out of the car, a cold wind blew. She tightened her short, khaki wool coat, the collar nuzzling against her frost-reddened cheeks, making her look all the more petite.

Just then, the driver’s window rolled down, and a man’s voice drifted out:

"Be happy at school. If you run into that kind of thing again, tell me..."

Gu Qiumian didn't look at the window; she just stared at the school gate and nodded distractedly.

The man added:

"Dad is heading off now, Mianmian..."

The girl paused, her brow furrowing, her delicate nose wrinkling as well. "Oh! I told you not to call me that..."

She liked to add little modal particles to her speech, but it didn't come across as pretentious. Instead, when she was annoyed, it softened her tone, sapping her of any real aggression. As she spoke, Gu Qiumian instinctively turned her head and caught the eye of a boy pushing a bicycle.

"You!" The girl gritted her teeth.

"Morning," the boy greeted calmly.

Zhang Shutong blinked.

Had he just heard something he shouldn't have?

She looked like she wanted to ask why he was eavesdropping, but Zhang Shutong had truly just been passing by. Truth be told, he didn't really mind hearing someone’s nickname—his own was "Tongtong," and he still managed to live his life just fine. But it seemed Mianmian herself minded quite a bit, clearly feeling that her day was ruined before it had even begun.

Gu Qiumian glared with those beautiful eyes, her mouth opening as if to say more, a puff of white mist escaping her lips. Finally, she just stomped her foot hard, shot a fierce look at someone—it wasn't clear who—and decided to ignore the two males behind her.

She whipped her head around, the ornaments on her hair tips swaying, and strode away. The tiny ruffles of her skirt fluttered, almost failing to keep pace with her.

A wry laugh came from the car window, and Zhang Shutong shrugged.

The Audi started up, leaving a trail of black exhaust in the crisp morning air, as if to signal that the new school day was starting off filled with the scent of gunpowder.

Zhang Shutong pushed his bike into the school gate. As he locked it, he pondered whether he had actually heard "Mianmian" or "Mie-mie" (the sound of a sheep).

But he couldn't bring it up. To ask would be to sacrifice his own peace of mind—he suddenly felt disgusted with himself and swore never to use reduplicated names again.

Regardless of whether it was Mian or Mie, both reminded him of a sheep. He took the liberty of guessing that this was why Gu Qiumian liked to draw them.

Outside the classroom building, students on duty were sweeping. They used large brooms made of sorghum stalks; they weren't necessarily great for cleaning, but they were perfect as weapons. Two boys were currently hacking away at each other, one using his broom as a broadsword, charging forward with a fierce shout, while the other held his tucked under his arm like a machine gun, firing away. The boy opposite him took two steps, clutched his chest, and collapsed, acting as if it were all real.

Every boy saw a different potential in a broom. Zhang Shutong watched with interest and was about to offer his own take, but looking at those students on duty, he suddenly remembered that because he hadn't turned in his homework the day before, he was stuck with duty next week. His enthusiasm vanished instantly.

Speaking of homework, he hadn't finished yesterday's either...

That was bad.

But on second thought, the four of them had been on a mission last night, so they had a legitimate excuse.

He decided not to catch up for now and hoped Old Song would understand.

His pace, which he had been about to quicken, slowed down again.

Climbing the stairs, he could hear the sound of morning reading coming from the classrooms. He walked in and saw a boy standing by his seat—dark-skinned, named something like... Zhou? He only remembered that the boy had been Gu Qiumian’s previous seatmate.

Zhang Shutong thought to himself that these two must be quite close. No wonder he was the boy who could tell Gu Qiumian was drawing sheep. They were reminiscing first thing in the morning, making him feel awkward about sitting there.

Perhaps he had deprived the man of the perk of being fed snacks; perhaps he had broken up the only soulmate who could appreciate Gu Qiumian’s art. Zhang Shutong felt like a terrible sinner.

But he watched the boy talk for a long time without making any move to sit down, just leaning against the edge of the desk and muttering something.

Zhang Shutong looked from another angle and couldn't help but smile—it turned out it wasn't that he didn't want to sit, but that he couldn't.

Gu Qiumian had tossed her schoolbag onto her seat like a natural trench, keeping the two of them far apart.

The boy had to pretend he didn't notice and kept chatting.

Zhang Shutong ignored them and looked further ahead. Lu Qinyan was already sitting properly in her seat. She always arrived earlier than everyone else. She had to walk a stretch of mountain road to get to school, and since her home was far away, she must wake up very early.

Was six o'clock early enough? And how did she eat on the mountain? Did she cook for herself, or buy something on the way to school?

A series of questions popped into his head. He thought about it and decided those didn't fit. It must be a different arrangement.

Didn't Lu Qinyan have a grandmother? The old lady only had one precious granddaughter and must dote on her. In TV dramas, manga, and other works, such grandmother-granddaughter pairs living together were common.

He guessed her grandmother must get up early to cook, then wait for Lu Qinyan to wake up and eat. In the morning mist, the old lady and the girl would sit under the temple eaves, watching the moisture soak the blue tiles while holding bowls and sipping porridge... It was a very heartwarming image.

The thought that Lu Qinyan had a side filled with the warmth of human life even while living in a temple made even Zhang Shutong smile. He thought that was quite nice.

Looking at the girl herself, she sat there quietly, wearing an ordinary school uniform jacket, a high ponytail hanging down her back, yet she couldn't hide her ethereal temperament. She held a textbook in front of her face, her lips slightly parted, as if everything from last night hadn't happened.

It was as if she were saying: "Although I unleashed great power yesterday to deal with an armed criminal, that doesn't stop me from studying hard this morning." He felt that kind of aura coming from her, and Zhang Shutong felt inferior, thinking that even a magical girl couldn't compare.

After scanning the room, he wasn't in a hurry to return to his seat. There were other things to do. He walked to the bookshelf to look for his materials but still couldn't find Lu Qinyan’s history notes.

He felt inexplicably guilty. She was so studious, and he had gone and lost her notes. That was no good at all.

When he returned to his seat, just as he was about to remind the boy to move and suggest he try chatting with Miss Gu at a different time, their conversation drifted into his ears:

"I just want to tell you..."

"Don't take it lightly..."

"I really saw it at the time..."

The boy lowered his voice, but Gu Qiumian didn't listen at all. At first, she was tidying her bag and gave a perfunctory "Mmh," but later, when she took out her textbook to start her morning reading, she didn't even provide that.

Finally, she put down her book, frowned, and said bluntly:

"Are you done?"

"I..."

"I need to study."

She didn't add any modal particles this time. Every sentence was crisp and clear, like a small, sharp silver blade slicing directly into a block of butter.

The "butter" walked away awkwardly. He was even worse than Du Kang; at least Du Kang knew how to struggle a little.

Seeing this, Zhang Shutong thought that life from now on would be very quiet. His seatmate and the girl in front of him were both quiet types, and there was nothing better than that.

He watched the boy leave and pulled out his chair. Knowing Miss Gu was in a bad mood, he decided not to even greet her. Just as he was about to sit down, he saw Gu Qiumian—who had just said she "needed to study"—suddenly put down her book and glare at him again.

Zhang Shutong was puzzled. He thought, *You aren't glaring at that "Zhou-something," so why glare at me?*

Could it be about the nickname thing? It seemed that really had caused Mianmian significant damage.

Zhang Shutong couldn't guess what she was thinking, but a greeting was always safe:

"Morning..."

Zhang Shutong was about to speak, but Gu Qiumian cut him off. The small silver blade had turned into a pair of scissors, clicking as she spoke:

"It's not morning at all! Why are you so slow?"

"Slow?"

"Didn't I see you at the school gate just now?"

The girl impatiently lifted her bag, made room for him, and demanded an explanation:

"If you had come over earlier, I wouldn't have had to listen to him ramble!"