Chapter 42: "The Traitor"

Strangely enough, the moment Old Song left, the atmosphere grew awkwardly cold, much like a television being switched off.

After a long pause, Gu Qiumian asked if he wanted a tour of the house, and Zhang Shutong nodded in agreement.

Thus, he followed behind the young woman. Both of them were swathed in bathrobes—one white, one red—presenting a rather peculiar sight.

Ordinarily, it would be normal for a host to show a guest around, but what if both the host and the guest were wearing bathrobes?

He walked the paths she usually took, his footsteps lightened, his mind eased. He saw the oversized color television in the living room, the art pieces inside the cabinets, and the dried flowers arranged in vases. Everything made Zhang Shutong feel as though this world was worlds apart from his own.

At times he wondered, if Miss Gu were to lead her usual entourage of lackeys around, what would those sycophants say? They would undoubtedly lavish her with wild flattery. So Zhang Shutong joined in, offering a few remarks tailored to sound as pleasing as possible.

To his surprise, Gu Qiumian grew rather displeased:

"Can you stop parroting other people?"

"Am I parroting you?" Zhang Shutong was baffled.

"I didn't say you were copying me. I mean, stop deliberately imitating everyone else. I didn't bring you along just to listen to your flattery," the girl puffed up her cheeks in annoyance.

"You're unhappy even when I compliment you?"

"I'd rather you just talk the way you usually do."

"I recall you saying my usual way of talking is quite annoying."

"It's even more annoying now!"

Right then, Zhang Shutong happened to spot a set of twelve Chinese zodiac figurines. He pointed to the sheep and nodded, "Oh, look, a little bleater."

"What did you just say?" Mianmian herself asked in disbelief, her eyes widening.

"Isn't that a sheep? A little bleater," Zhang Shutong teased her.

Instantly, the gentle sheep turned into a fierce tiger, gritting its teeth as if it wanted to swallow Zhang Shutong whole in a single bite.

Gu Qiumian glared at him twice, decided to ignore him altogether, and marched straight ahead.

There was an elevator right in the center of the villa.

They headed down to the basement first.

There was only one underground level, which served as a media and entertainment room.

A row of large sofas faced a gigantic projection screen, flanked by sound systems on both sides. In the middle stood a coffee table holding an ashtray and several microphones. It was clearly where Gu Qiumian and her girlfriends gathered to sing.

"Do you like singing?"

"It's all right. Just something to do when I get bored staying on the island."

"It certainly can get quite boring at times," Zhang Shutong decided to offer a bit of sympathy, seeing as they both hailed from the provincial capital. "You can't even get KFC here."

"Food? That's not really an issue."

"You have a live-in housekeeper?"

"No, I just have my dad's driver go buy it."

Zhang Shutong thought to himself that she truly lived up to the title of a pampered young miss, remarking that the cost of the trip probably exceeded the price of the KFC itself.

However, Gu Qiumian retorted that nobody mentioned buying KFC, wondering why he was so fixated on it.

"McDonald's, then?"

"At the very least, it has to be Pizza Hut," Miss Gu sighed, pressing a hand to her forehead.

She added that if the city had even a single decent Western restaurant, she wouldn't even bother ordering Pizza Hut. Still, it had the advantage of convenience; whenever there were too many people over for singing, a few boxes of pizza and bottles of soda could easily solve a meal.

Zhang Shutong had no way to explain that he considered Pizza Hut to be a grand feast, whereas Gu Qiumian regarded it merely as fast food.

"What kind of pizza do you like?" Gu Qiumian suddenly asked a strange question.

"The one with sausage and tomato sauce," Zhang Shutong said, forgetting the exact name. "American Supreme, I think?"

"And what about me?" she asked again.

It took Zhang Shutong a full second to confirm he hadn't misheard.

Yet how could he possibly know what she liked to eat? He had never been to any restaurant with her. If Du Kang were here, he would grin and say, "Treat me to a meal once and I'll find out," but Zhang Shutong couldn't pull off that kind of witty banter:

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing at all." Gu Qiumian pouted, put her hands behind her back, and fell silent.

Her delicate face nestled against the soft collar of her bathrobe. Watching her retreating figure, Zhang Shutong pictured the girl singing in the media room—her melodies sometimes soothing, sometimes brisk—while the pendant she frequently wore in her hair bounced merrily along.

Of course, Gu Qiumian was bare-faced right now—Zhang Shutong had never seen her wear makeup—meaning she wasn't wearing a scarf or hair ornaments, and had even tied up the hair she usually let flow loose.

They had only gone to the basement to take a look; singing was out of the question, and Gu Qiumian had inexplicably lost her desire to chat. After casting a few glances around, Zhang Shutong followed her back upstairs.

A lingering fragrance accompanied them the entire way.

They took the elevator straight to the second floor.

It was dead quiet up here. The entire floor was cushioned wall-to-wall with woolen carpeting, and flower stands lined the corridor. As the elevator doors closed behind them, even the slightest noise was magnified. At that moment, Gu Qiumian softly remarked:

"I thought you came tonight because..."

She stopped mid-sentence.

"What did you just say?"

"It's nothing." Gu Qiumian changed the subject. "Where are you going tomorrow?"

"Just heading out to hang out with some friends. One of my best buddies is having a birthday."

The young girl let out another "Oh," and led him to the guest room.

The housekeeper had already prepared the bed, and the room resembled a hotel suite. Gu Qiumian told him to let her know right now if he needed anything, as she would be going to sleep shortly.

Zhang Shutong replied firmly that he needed nothing. He was the kind of person who could get through a night with just a pillow and a blanket; though he usually struggled to sleep away from his own bed, this was Gu Qiumian's house, after all.

Gu Qiumian nodded and wished him a good night. Zhang Shutong walked her to the doorway, and just as the gap was about to close, she suddenly turned her back to him and muttered:

"Remember this: the one with the fruit."

Zhang Shutong paused for a second before realizing she was talking about pizza. Amused, he asked:

"Are you really expecting me to treat you?"

"Who's obsessed with eating like you?" Gu Qiumian retorted crossly. "I'm not asking you to treat me. I'm just telling you to remember it."

Zhang Shutong nodded.

It was actually quite easy to remember; the one with fruit was likely the Hawaiian pizza with pineapple slices, the kind you eat in small bites. He had recently noticed that Gu Qiumian liked bite-sized foods, such as sweet and sour pork tenderloin and the steamed buns from street stalls.

Still, what was the point of memorizing a fruit pizza? Aside from treating her to a meal, Zhang Shutong couldn't think of any other reason.

So what came next?

There was no next part.

"You'd better actually remember," dropping another ambiguous remark, Gu Qiumian shut the door herself.

Zhang Shutong was left alone in the room.

Habitually, he analyzed the girl's intent. Perhaps she meant that if there ever came a chance to dine together in the future, he should show some situational awareness when ordering—just like Miss Gu's little secretary, who knew her preferences inside and out.

Was she trying to groom him for the role of a secretary?

Yet Zhang Shutong only intended to be a lackey, and even that status was strictly temporary. Once it expired, he would resign on his own accord, ask for no compensation, and never make a nuisance of himself.

In any case, he could never decipher Gu Qiumian's mind. Since she told him to remember it, and it wasn't much trouble, he memorized it, whether it came in handy or not.

Now, he approached the bedroom window.

Stars were invisible tonight. After scanning the area for a moment, he realized this window faced the backyard precisely. When he had stood outside the railing earlier and looked up, this was the exact guest room he had seen.

The rain was gradually tapering off.

After taking another look around, he drew the full-length curtains over the three-story window and threw himself flat onto the bed.

Staring blankly at the ceiling, he remembered how many things he had to do tomorrow, and a genuine wave of exhaustion washed over him.

To his utter regret, Old Song's so-called magic had failed to work its wonders on him.

He hadn't felt particularly tired while talking to Gu Qiumian, but the moment he made contact with the bed, his eyelids rebelled. He turned off the lamp, pulled the covers over himself, and indulged in his habitual bedtime ritual of reviewing the day's events.

A moment later, he closed his eyes, hoping to welcome a peaceful night.

Tonight was the late hours of December 7th; perhaps the next time he opened his eyes, it would already be the morning of the 8th.

Only three days remained until the date of Gu Qiumian's original demise.

...

When the girl in the wine-red bathrobe returned to her room, the bedroom window was still open.

A short while ago, she had spotted the little Fox car at the front gate from this very spot and rushed downstairs in a flurry.

Without turning on the lights, she silently closed the window, walked over to the desk, and switched on the bedside lamp.

There were no stars tonight. The dust of the world seemed washed clean by the cold rain. The bedside lamp cast a glow like a stationary firefly, outlining the contours of the entire room in warm hues.

The girl rested her chin in her hands amidst this faint luminescence, lost in thought.

She had always favored this atmosphere—dimly lit yet devoid of any loss of a sense of security. She drifted into a light, quiet daydream within this hazy, tranquil little space.

Her bright, spirited eyes were fixed upon a photo frame sitting on the desktop, which held a group photograph.

The picture had already faded somewhat, bearing the irreversible marks left by the passage of time.

Finally, she extended a finger and gave a sharp flick against the face of the stone-faced child inside the frame.

The frame toppled over with a clatter, and the girl named Gu Qiumian muttered under her breath:

"Traitor..."