Teacher Song's profound discussion continued.
"So, they're easily satisfied—or rather, they're originally smart, but then they get impulsive and don't care about anything else. So whether you have money or success, it's all just a passing cloud..."
Zhang Shutong wanted to say that Gu Qiumian definitely wouldn't care if others had money, as long as her own family had it. But Teacher Song was clearly talking about his ex-girlfriend. Zhang Shutong was quite curious about his love life and didn't mind listening.
"My girlfriend and I were like that. When we met, we weren't much older than you, seventeen or eighteen, or maybe eighteen or nineteen. At that time, we were so poor we only bought one ticket to watch a movie. I'd have her run inside first, and a few minutes after the movie started, I'd give the old man at the door a cigarette, change into a security uniform, and sneak in. Guess how we drank our drinks? Even Jianlibao was a luxury. They used to sell loose malted milk powder. I'd bring a thermos from home; I'd drink from the bottle, and she'd drink from the cap. We'd even toast each other. Don't you think they'd find it embarrassing? But they're willing to."
Teacher Song kept talking about women. Zhang Shutong suddenly felt a sense of familiarity, realizing Teacher Song was similar to Qingyi—except that guy talked about men. Perhaps one day, if Qingyi went astray, he would become just like Teacher Song.
"So I said, you have to pursue girls. If you don't, how will they understand your feelings? And this is very dependent on an innate feeling. If you find someone pleasing to the eye, you just do. If you don't, you don't. Once the first impression is set, no matter how hard you try, you can't change it later."
Teacher Song seemed to be getting addicted to talking. He lit another cigarette and played with the frog on the center console as he spoke. He hummed proudly, "You all think your teacher is so slovenly now, but I'll tell you the truth, I was a handsome, stylish guy back then, with a pompadour like a pop star. My leather shoes were shiny, and I'd ride my motorcycle to the dance hall with my beloved girl sitting on the back. Every time we got off, she'd help me smooth my hair. Was it because she was so gentle? Wrong. It was actually because she was too concerned with appearances. So I was strictly controlled back then, and now I've gone back to my old ways."
Zhang Shutong was initially very interested, but seeing Teacher Song wearing a wrinkled white shirt, with his arms exposed and covered in hair, he looked like a down-and-out man. It seemed that he and his ex-girlfriend were ultimately defeated by life, and a silly girl would eventually become a smart woman.
But if this continued, they would talk until the middle of the night. Although the surroundings were quite romantic—the raindrops hitting the car's tin roof made a crisp sound, and the cigarette butts glowed in the darkness, with a faint wisp of smoke floating away, only to be washed away by the rain—
This was clearly not the time for a heart-to-heart talk. Zhang Shutong decided to provoke him a little.
"Where is teacher's wife now?"
Zhang Shutong asked in a very innocent way, and flicked the frog with his hand. The Bulbasaur, with its big mouth, let out a silent sneer at the man in the driver's seat. Squirtle and Pikachu couldn't achieve this effect. In a way, he really did buy the right one.
But while the frog seemed to smile, Song Nanshan's smile froze on his face.
He half-heartedly threw the cigarette butt on the ground, where it was immediately extinguished. Song Nanshan silently rolled up the car window.
Zhang Shutong thought, "Sorry, when I'm done with this, I'll buy some beer. We'll sit down and talk, and I'll listen to you brag all night." Then he fastened his seat belt and waited for Teacher Song to start the car.
However, the car didn't start. Song Nanshan just looked at the frog and, after a long while, said:
"She passed away."
Zhang Shutong's hand, which was fastening his seat belt, froze. He really wanted to laugh and say, "Teacher Song, can't you be more open? Don't make up stories about the girl just because you broke up; it's bad for your character..." But he knew that was impossible. In the darkness, he saw the man's expressionless, firm face, and his voice had little emotion:
"That day I bought this frog, I didn't take her home at night. She was hit by a car. When I found out the next day... you should understand.
"So I'm telling you, you shouldn't let go of something when you have the ability to hold on to it. You will regret it one day."
He opened his mouth at this point, wanting to say something more, but nothing came out. He simply turned off the radio. The silver panel of the radio was already peeling. The disc that Gu Qiumian had picked was still in there. They had been talking for so long that the song had already looped once. It was "Like Smoke" before, and it was still "Like Smoke" now.
In the crisp sound of rain, Zhang Shutong heard the lyrics:
"At the age of seven, I caught that cicada;
Thinking I could catch summer;
At the age of seventeen;
I kissed his face;
Thinking I could be with her forever..."
They were listening to a song about summer on a winter's rainy night.
"Damn it, what are these stupid lyrics? It's impossible to catch summer by catching a cicada." Teacher Song smiled, then turned off the radio and turned the key to start the car. The car's engine was old and trembled violently, just like the old Bulbasaur trembled with it. The man half-heartedly flicked the frog. "She's gone, and all I have left is this ugly thing to keep me company."
But that frog seemed to be at odds with him. After a few shakes, it would stubbornly return to its original position. Zhang Shutong looked at the yellow-eyed, bootleg Bulbasaur, wondering how many years it had been there alone. From the first year to the fourth year of middle school, it must have been at least four years, or maybe even longer?
The interior of the car was cracked and torn, but it was still the newest and most energetic object, more energetic than the man sitting next to it. But Song Nanshan was not in a hurry to leave. Instead, he suddenly said:
"Shutong, what I really wanted to tell you wasn't any of that."
"It's not really appropriate to tell you this; it's someone else's family matter. As a teacher, it's morally wrong for me to say this, but I think you should know. When I called Qiumian's dad at noon, I heard a woman's voice next to him, calling him 'my dear.'"
"Who do you think that was? What do you think her dad went off the island to do? Do you think Gu Qiumian knows?"
His questions came like a string of bullets, and the rain could not hide the silence inside the Ford.
Then, Song Nanshan lit a cigarette, breaking the silence:
"Qiumian's mom passed away a long time ago."
The smoke gradually filled the car. Zhang Shutong suddenly understood why she had never seen the rainbow cotton candy under the Ferris wheel. He turned to look at the car window. The smiley face was already very faint. Zhang Shutong wiped it off. Outside, it was still pitch black, and he couldn't see anything.
That's right. They were on a small island, and this was the most secluded place on the entire island. The four-story villa might be brightly lit, but if you looked out through the glass, you would never see the giant glowing silhouette of the Ferris wheel.
She must be so lonely.
...
"Alright, anyway, you know what you need to know. Just figure out what to do next on your own."
Song Nanshan shook his head and opened the car door:
"I'm going to pee. Wait a moment. After we eat, we'll go to the commercial street. I'll accompany you young people for a hero's rescue this one time..."
Zhang Shutong sat there silently, just nodding to show he heard.
But to his surprise, a long time passed before Song Nanshan came back, his expression serious:
"I just went to her backyard for a look. Something might have really happened..."