Chapter 29: The Guardian of Flowers

Qingyi quickly explained the situation, and Zhang Shutong soon grasped the cause and effect.

It turned out that Li Yipeng’s family owned a supermarket on the commercial street. It wasn’t a small operation, and rumor had it they had even opened a branch in the city. Having bought a house in recent years, they were considered a "wealthy family" on the small island.

Zhang Shutong knew that such supermarkets relied primarily on tobacco and alcohol for profit, backed by a steady stream of customers. By all accounts, they should have been living comfortably. However, because Gu’s father had built a shopping mall in recent years, their businesses overlapped significantly, and Li’s family had been squeezed the hardest.

Affected by the business downturn, Li Yipeng had grown up listening to disparaging remarks about the Gu family. Now, with old grievances and new grudges combined, he had done something foolish to retaliate against her.

Zhang Shutong recalled what he had seen during lunch. "So, when it comes down to it, it’s still a dispute originating outside of school?"

"Right. Otherwise, it wouldn't have dragged on for so long."

"What about the business with the names in the bathroom?" Zhang Shutong asked again.

"That also has to do with the commercial street. According to his own account, the person who handed him the note is in a similar situation to his family—perhaps even worse. A family of three, all depending on that one little shop to make a living."

"Why did they give such detailed instructions?"

"To make it sound credible, I suppose. They told him that if he wanted to get back at Gu Qiumian, he should write her name on the partition; it would be their secret code."

Zhang Shutong found it strange. "And Li Yipeng really let himself be used as a pawn?"

"The other person claimed that because Li Yipeng used to be in the same class as Gu Qiumian, he knew her better and would know how to hit where it hurts." Qingyi rolled her eyes. "And you know how Li Yipeng is... he always loved to show off. He actually felt like he had some kind of 'mission'."

"But there is one thing that differs from our assessment," Qingyi added. "Although they initially wanted to target the scarf, the castle wasn't just a byproduct. Including that A4 paper, these were all intentional. It was actually meant to be a hint toward the Gu family's mall—a sort of manifesto of their 'crime,' if you will."

"A manifesto?"

"Yeah. Why else would Li Yipeng team up with him? The other guy said there were other plans for revenge. The castle and the scarf were just the beginning, all to let Gu Qiumian know that it was her family's mall that had offended them."

Zhang Shutong was about to say something else when Song Nanshan walked over, asking cheerfully why they had run off during exercises and whether they were angling for cleaning duty again. Unfortunately, his good mood lasted only for a moment; the second Zhang Shutong started speaking, the old man’s face turned gloomy.

...

By the time the fourth-period bell rang, Song Nanshan still hadn't appeared in class. He remained in the office, having summoned Li Yipeng’s parents directly.

Zhang Shutong was standing in the corner of the office now, with Li Yipeng himself nearby. Du Kang and Qingyi had already returned to class. Zhang had insisted on staying to listen; the teacher didn't object, though he was in no mood to say much.

The problem lay with that "mastermind." Zhang Shutong understood why Song was having a headache; no sooner had he resolved one issue than another popped up. Even if Gu Qiumian’s family wasn't influential, it would be enough to give any homeroom teacher a hard time, let alone involving family business conflicts.

Song was absolutely furious. He kicked the boy in the rear, saying, "If you had the guts to own up to your actions, I’d respect you for it. But all you’ve done is make excuses. You call this revenge? You think you’re in the right? Failing once and trying again, even writing 'go die' on an A4 sheet—how old are you? I think you’re just plain rotten!"

He was so angry he didn't mince his words. "What does your family’s failing business have to do with anyone else? Bullying a young girl like this—why don't I see you going after her father directly?"

Song Nanshan’s temper was truly terrifying. Standing over six feet tall and broad-shouldered, his shouting made the office cabinets rattle. Li Yipeng was a typical spoiled child; he loved to show off, but when faced with real trouble, he was utterly helpless and burst into tears.

A teenage boy with stubble starting to sprout on his chin, sobbing in an office—it was truly speechless.

It was clear Song Nanshan was reaching his limit. He opened the office window to light a cigarette, deciding it was better to just have the parents take him home for discipline.

Around the end of the third period, Li’s mother arrived, late. She was a tall, thin woman carrying an expensive-looking leather bag. Her thin lips were painted with lipstick, and her foundation was applied a bit too thickly, failing to hide the wrinkles, which only made her appearance more jarring.

Song Nanshan tried to suppress his anger and explained the whole story, but his tone was laced with dissatisfaction. He felt parents shouldn't discuss business troubles with their children. Even if Li Yipeng had acted on his own, a student who wasn't fully mature couldn't have done this without his parents' influence.

Zhang Shutong remembered a favorite motto of Song’s from early in the school year: "Although I haven't met your parents yet, I can judge what they are like based on your performance."

It proved true today. The woman didn't listen to a word Song said. The moment she saw her son crying, she whipped out a handkerchief to wipe his tears, cooing and asking what was wrong.

Song cleared his throat and said in a deep voice, "Mrs. Li, I hope you parents will take this seriously..."

Before he could finish, the woman interrupted him impatiently, "Mr. Song, isn't this just kids having a bit of a squabble? When I asked you what was going on over the phone, you insisted I come in. I thought something had actually happened to Pengpeng at school."

Zhang Shutong saw the vein in Song’s temple throbbing, but he still patiently handed over the photo from the A4 paper. The woman glanced at it and looked away. "I know my own child. He’s just a bit impulsive; at most, he’d just say a few words. He didn't actually do anything in the end."

She then turned back to coaxing Li Yipeng, saying, "Don't cry, don't cry. If you don't want to attend class today, we'll go home at noon and come back next Monday."

"What do you mean he didn't do anything!" Song slammed his hand on the table, his voice rising in anger. "If this is the attitude you take as a parent, I have nothing more to say. I’ll call Gu Qiumian’s father here!"

Watching the whole process, Zhang Shutong knew Song Nanshan was showing restraint. He hadn't contacted Gu’s father first, hoping to handle it between the parents to minimize the impact. It wasn't that he sympathized with Li Yipeng; it was out of professional duty—he didn't want the boy to face a worse fate. Last time, it was just a crude joke and the boy had to switch classes; this time, it would be much more severe.

If Song wanted to be a hands-off manager, the easiest way would have been to call both sets of parents and let them confront each other. It would have been easier for him, especially since Li Yipeng wasn't in his class. But the woman's dismissive attitude forced Song to bring up Gu’s father as a subtle warning.

He expected it to have some effect, but the woman just blinked. "Who?"

Then she sneered, "Gu Qiumian? The one whose dad owns the mall? Oh, Mr. Song, I see why you're so anxious now. You’re helping a big boss threaten us. Oh, the last time Yipeng switched classes, that was because of her, right? What does her family want this time? Expulsion? We endured it when business was bad, but you're acting so arrogant here at school—do you really think they own the place?"

Zhang Shutong frowned, realizing things weren't as he had expected. The class-switching incident had happened a long time ago, and he hadn't paid much attention to it then, assuming it was just a student offending Gu Qiumian and her family using their power to escalate it. He had thought the mother was just over-pampering, not realizing her son had provoked Gu again. Now, it seemed she wasn't just unafraid; she was actually seething with resentment, ready to turn the tables.

Song Nanshan struggled to contain his rage. "Mrs. Li, I must ask, what do you think school rules are for? It is your son who keeps bullying that girl. What does that have to do with whether her father is a boss or not? If it were any other student today, I would say the same thing. As a teacher, I don't care about your outside business dealings. I am talking to you about your child's character!"

The woman shrieked, "What character problem? What’s wrong with Yipeng’s character? He just knocked over a little toy house! Oh, and by the way, you said someone else put him up to it. In that case, I think there’s something wrong with that Gu girl’s character. Why doesn't anyone ask why everyone is against her?"

"Don't you dare twist my words!" Song slammed the table, his eyes wide. "I’ll say it again: if you don't want to reason, then talk to Gu Qiumian’s father directly."

The woman didn't care. "Who are you trying to scare, Mr. Song? Is it a secret that her father is away on business? Plenty of people know. Go ahead and call him here to talk to me. Can you even get him on the phone?"

"Are you going to tell me he’s just on a business trip and is coming back? Fine, then we’ll talk when he does." She wasn't in a hurry anymore, even taking the time to smooth her hair. "The key is whether he’ll even be in the mood to talk to me. My family doesn't care. At worst, we’ll move Yipeng to a school outside. We don't rely on that little supermarket to eat."

Song frowned. "I said, I don't care if you eat or not. Don't talk about that—"

"You might not care, but others do," the woman said with a cold laugh. "Mr. Song, it's fine for you to stand up for her, but her father has provoked public anger. Don't end up losing your own reputation trying to cozy up to a big boss. Let me give you one last piece of advice."

She raised her eyebrows with a malicious smirk. "Hasn't Boss Gu been squeezing us out of a living? My family doesn't rely on that shop, but some people do. If a little house being knocked over causes this much of a stir, I’d say something much bigger is coming..."

Before she could finish, Song Nanshan stood up abruptly, knocking over his teacup. His face was no longer angry, but completely ice-cold. "What do you mean by that?"

The woman was startled, but she stood her ground. "We’ll see."

She slung her bag over her shoulder, grabbed Li Yipeng with her other hand, and left.

Only after the woman was long gone did Zhang Shutong close the door. Song Nanshan slammed his fist on the table and collapsed into his chair. Neither of them felt like talking; one was suffocating with frustration, the other was pondering the woman's words. Who was that person? Or was it a group of people?

A faint wisp of smoke drifted into Zhang Shutong’s nose. He turned to see Song, no longer caring about being in the office, smoking a cigarette in silence. Only when the ash was about to fall did he force a smile and wave at Zhang. "Why are you frowning? You're just a kid. There are adults here; this isn't for you to worry about. Curiosity satisfied? Go back to class."

Zhang Shutong didn't budge. "What did his mother mean?"

"The cat's away, so the mice are playing, that's all," Song sneered. "They see that Gu’s father has been gone for a few days. If he were standing right in front of them, I doubt they'd have the guts to even breathe."

Thinking about it, Zhang realized he had never actually seen Gu’s father. His only connection was hearing his voice once at school, which had actually sounded quite refined.

"And the commercial street?" Zhang asked.

"They're probably negotiating the demolition again. Gu’s father is keeping the price low, and some people aren't happy. But if they don't agree now, the price will only drop lower later. That’s why he’s provoked such anger." Song spread his hands. "But you and I are both outsiders; we don't have deep connections locally, so I don't know much more."

Song suddenly opened up. "Let's go. Stop brooding. I'll take you to eat. What do you want for lunch?"

He was ready to take a student to skip class. Zhang Shutong shook his head and refused; he had too much to investigate to be in the mood for a meal.

"You're a very dedicated 'knight in shining armor.' I think that girl is quite moved."

Actually, before Li Yipeng’s mother arrived, Gu Qiumian had already come by once. But Zhang Shutong didn't want to touch that topic.

"You have to be proactive," Song started acting like a life coach. "Otherwise, you're both just cold and stubborn. I've seen plenty of examples like this, and none of them end well..."

Zhang Shutong waved him off and was about to leave. Just as he reached the door, Song Nanshan said solemnly, "Shutong, don't leave after school this afternoon. I have something serious to discuss with you."

"Serious?" Zhang Shutong turned back, puzzled.

"It's time you knew." Song lit another cigarette, sighing as he rubbed his stubble. "But it's not the right time yet."

...

School ended in the afternoon.

"Not going to the base today?"

"Old Song says he has something to talk to me about. You guys go ahead."

"Alright, we'll discuss the weekend plans in the QQ group."

Zhang Shutong said goodbye to his close friends. He realized that tomorrow was Saturday. After returning, he hadn't even finished two days of school before the first weekend of his student life arrived.

Ruoping suddenly leaned in. "Don't forget that thing."

"What?"

Here it comes again... Zhang Shutong’s least favorite part: the memory gaps. He truly couldn't remember what his eight-years-younger self had promised.

"Du Kang’s birthday! Next Monday. Don't forget, the three of us need to prepare. He doesn't say anything on the surface, but he’s secretly keeping track..."

Zhang Shutong nodded in realization. That sounded right. He remembered at the funeral, the reason he remembered the exact date of Gu Qiumian’s death was because it clashed with his own birthday.

He gave a thumbs up and watched the three of them walk away, laughing.

Time was running out. Zhang Shutong planned to hear what "important" thing the homeroom teacher had to say and then head to the commercial street. What he couldn't figure out was what that "serious matter" could be. It was rare to see Song so solemn.

He didn't ride his bike, heading instead to the school gate. Steam rose from the bun shop, but the girl who usually ate there in small bites was gone. Zhang Shutong found he could finally accept these strange buns; he decided to have his dinner there.

He bit into a bun and waited for Song. After a long wait, a horn sounded twice. Thinking he was blocking the road, he turned around, only to see a red Ford Focus parked there. The driver’s window rolled down.

"Get in, hurry up." Song Nanshan’s serious face appeared.

Zhang Shutong wanted to say they could just talk here; the car smelled too strongly of smoke, and he didn't want to get in unless it was urgent. "This isn't the place to talk. Get in." Song repeated.

Zhang Shutong walked over, feeling a strange sense of familiarity with the car—perhaps he had ridden in it many times before. Eight years later, it felt deeply nostalgic.

He hoped it was something important. He reflexively moved to the passenger seat, but Song said, "No room there, go to the back."

He complied, pulled the door open, and leaned in. The car was so small—he hadn't realized it before, but now his knees were pressed against the front seat.

He finally squeezed in, and when he looked up, he realized the passenger seat was indeed occupied.

To be precise, a familiar person was sitting there.

It was a girl.

The girl gave Zhang Shutong an annoyed glance and then turned her head away.

Zhang Shutong suddenly remembered why the car felt so familiar; he had seen it just yesterday. He looked at Song, who was grinning at them, no longer looking serious at all.

"I told you I had something serious to do. Taking a young lady home is very important, isn't it?"