December 16.
Sunday.
"Tongtong, Tongtong, where is your mother's toner?"
The woman in front of him spoke in an incredibly cute tone, showing a very "amiable" smile.
"Mom."
Zhang Shutong blinked.
"What?"
"The eggs don't have salt."
"Oh, I forgot." His mother was a woman prone to forgetfulness. She slapped her forehead in sudden realization and said, "Do you know why I forgot?"
"Hmm?"
"I've been looking for the toner you bought me since the moment I got up early this morning, but I just couldn't find it." She pretended to be on the verge of tears.
Zhang Shutong could only pretend he hadn't heard.
His mother dropped the act:
"You played with a girl for a whole day and forgot your mother's business entirely?"
Zhang Shutong started eating his mantou slices.
Fried mantou slices.
Overnight mantou that had hardened slightly, sliced, lightly dipped in a bit of cold water, coated in egg wash, and deep-fried in an oil pan until golden brown. They could be eaten with fermented bean curd or stinky tofu sandwiched inside.
He didn't know what it was like in other places, but in his house, this was one of the most common breakfasts.
However, his mother couldn't stand the smell of stinky tofu, so unfortunately, there were no condiments.
Actually, she used to love eating it.
But this matter dated back to his childhood. Once, when his mother was about to cook, his father volunteered, saying, "Wife, you're tired, watch me perform."
His mother was pushed out of the kitchen by him, leaving only Zhang Shutong inside to lend a hand. After his father came back, he searched for a recipe for fried mantou slices. After looking at his phone for just a few seconds, he slapped his thigh:
"Isn't this simple? Son, bring the mantou!"
Zhang Shutong stood on his tiptoes to take the mantou out of the refrigerator and presented them with both hands.
His father was also a man with strong hands-on skills. With a few quick movements, he mixed the egg wash and sliced the mantou. A few minutes later, a pan of golden mantou slices was ready. Zhang Shutong smelled the aroma in the plate and was about to call his mother to start the meal when his father slapped his thigh again:
"Son, bring the stinky tofu!"
Zhang Shutong asked in confusion, what do we need stinky tofu for?
His father said that was how it was taught online—to eat it sandwiched inside the mantou slices. If your dad hadn't found the authentic recipe, we would have almost missed a delicacy. Your mother used to be too lazy and actually omitted this important step. Today, watch your dad perform.
Zhang Shutong nodded in conviction, then handed over a jar of Wangzhihe's green fermented bean curd. He first pinched his nose and hid well to the side. He saw his father nimbly pick out a few pieces with chopsticks and put them on a small plate, saying as he did so that this was how authentic old Beijingers ate it. Then, under Zhang Shutong's terrified gaze, the man flipped the plate over the hot oil pan. With a sharp sizzle—
His mother walked into the kitchen, and her facial mask dropped from fright.
In the end, the entire pan of oil was thrown out. Amidst his mother's frenzy and his father's defense, Zhang Shutong sneaked a glance at the "authentic" recipe on the phone.
The screen read:
A Compilation of Guo Degang's Crosstalk.
In the blink of an eye, many years had passed since that incident. Zhang Shutong brought it up in a reminiscent mood, but his mother said gloomily:
"Don't change the subject. This is what you call getting a girlfriend and forgetting your mother."
Zhang Shutong's face was covered in black lines:
"Where did a girlfriend come from?"
"You still know she isn't your girlfriend? You haven't even started dating and you've already forgotten your mother?"
Zhang Shutong couldn't outtalk her. There were very few women in his life he couldn't outtalk; one was his own mother, and another... Zhang Shutong glanced at his phone. She should still be having breakfast at the temple.
"Alright, keep eating. I still have to go to my workplace at noon." His mother yawned and went back to her room to change clothes.
"So busy?" Zhang Shutong asked in puzzlement.
In fact, after all these years, he didn't know why his mother was always so busy either.
"Yeah, there was a minor accident on-site yesterday. I'm going to sign some papers today."
"An accident?" Zhang Shutong couldn't help but ask. Could it be that someone died while digging the foundation?
"A section caved in, but it's not a big deal," his mother said lazily. "Guess what was dug up?"
She didn't keep him in suspense either, opening her phone and leaning over enthusiastically:
"Look, a little fox."
Zhang Shutong's first reaction was that Classmate Lu's sole remaining fox had been crushed to death.
However, the screen showed a sculpture of a fox.
Made of stone material.
The fox squatted on a stone base, its large mouth split open. It wasn't hard to tell it was a smile, but it truly looked a bit strange. Zhang Shutong called it the happy fox.
"This is the most fun part of working in geology; you never know what strange things you can dig up from underground."
His mother leaned on his shoulder, beaming with delight:
"Do you still remember the fossil placed on your desk when you were little? That was dug up by me."
"That one..." Zhang Shutong remembered it was an ammonite.
He looked at the fox sculpture again, his interest halved, and asked casually, "An antique?"
"Maybe it really is." His mother, however, grew interested. "I took a few archaeology courses back in university. It looks like an idol used for worship or something similar. It's definitely an old object."
Zhang Shutong thought about it—a crowd of people worshipping a grinning fox... To be honest, it really felt a bit creepy.
"That has to be handed over to the state," he teased.
"It's nothing certain yet. I'll place it on my office desk first."
"That small?"
"Yeah, about the size of a Nutrition Express bottle."
Zhang Shutong was about to ask if this thing would be very dirty when his phone buzzed. He glanced at it and replied with a few characters.
"Who is it?" his mother asked casually. "It hasn't stopped since before breakfast?"
"A friend."
"Gu Qiumian?"
"No. She probably hasn't gotten out of bed yet at this hour." After Zhang Shutong said this instinctively, he said helplessly, "Mom, don't keep nagging about her."
The woman moved her lips, thinking that this was her biological son, so she was a bit reluctant to scold him.
"So who is it?" she followed up curiously. "If it were Ruoping and the others, you definitely would have said their names directly. A new friend you made after changing classes recently?"
"Met yesterday in the city."
"You can make a friend within a single day?" His mother was twelve fractions surprised.
"Can only say we just met," Zhang Shutong said perfunctorily.
"Oh, right, don't forget to bring Little Lu home for dinner today. I've bought all the groceries." His mother urged again.
"Uh..."
"Why are you frozen? Didn't I tell you this Wednesday? While I'm free over the weekend, I'll treat Little Lu to a meal. She did save your life, after all."
Zhang Shutong snapped out of it. He had indeed forgotten about this matter because when he brought it up with Lu Qinglian at the hospital last time, she had refused, so he temporarily put it out of his mind.
Of course, the reason last time was the rain. Today it was sunny, so logically he could call her over. He just needed to nod and take on the task, but—
He glanced at his phone again. He already had an appointment for dinner, though it hadn't been finalized yet.
And the other party was coming to the island.
His gaze turned to the chat history, lingering on a message from last night:
"What a coincidence, I just happen to be going to the island to play tomorrow. If you're free, I'll treat you to dinner in the evening. You pick the restaurant?"
Zhang Shutong's mind was a bit messy:
"...We'll see how it goes."
"What do you mean 'see how it goes'? It's a must," his mother said in a tone of delivering an order. "It was fine that you went out to play yesterday, but you can't delay it any further today. If you delay, it'll be next week again."
His mother had always wanted to thank Lu Qinglian for saving his life but was plagued by overtime work and couldn't find an opportunity. Having finally waited until the weekend to rest, this time she issued a hard order that he absolutely must bring her home for a dinner meal.
He had originally wanted to ask if noon would work, but his mother had already changed her clothes.
She walked in and out of the room as she spoke, constantly looking in the mirror. Zhang Shutong couldn't understand why she had to dress up so vainly just to do some overtime work. But once a woman had a day where she didn't care about her appearance, she might be on the verge of becoming a little old lady.
"The dress your dad bought me last year is tighter now," his mother pouted and complained. It was unclear whether she was complaining about his dad or the flab on her belly.
There was another thing Zhang Shutong couldn't figure out. It was clearly winter, yet his mother was actually trying on a spring dress, just like how he didn't understand why Gu Qiumian wanted to buy an anklet that could only be worn in summer.
"Mom, do you have an ex-boyfriend?" he suddenly asked a seemingly random question.
"No. Your dad and I are each other's first loves." She looked quite proud when she said this. "Why do you ask?"
"Just asking casually." Zhang Shutong checked the time. "Heading out first."
"Wash the dishes."
"Alright, alright..."
He carried the empty bowls and chopsticks to the kitchen. He had always been a fast-moving person; when he said he would wash dishes, he never did anything else. But this time, when Zhang Shutong turned on the faucet, he rarely didn't move. The water rushed with a loud clatter. He wiped away the droplets that splattered onto his sleeve and stared blankly at the ceiling for a while.
When he went downstairs, it was already past eight o'clock. Zhang Shutong mounted his bicycle, temporarily tossing some vexing matters to the back of his mind.
After riding a motorcycle, he suddenly felt a bicycle was slow to death, but his mother had confiscated the motorcycle, so he became a middle school student riding a bicycle again.
A bicycle could be very cool too, as long as a modified tail box was installed on the rear seat, with many kinds of strange things kept inside—fishing rods, flashlights, batons... However, on this Sunday, he had left the cool tail box at home.
Zhang Shutong quickly rode to the foot of the mountain.
He looked left and right. The agreed-upon time was eight-thirty, but he didn't see that silhouette at the entrance.
A few minutes later, Lu Qinglian walked down from the mountain path.
"Morning."
"Morning."
"You're late."
"Twelve minutes left," she said carelessly.
Zhang Shutong glanced at his phone. Eight-eighteen, unexpected precision down to the minute and second. He was just about to say whether a temple keeper also possessed the ability to estimate time, when he suddenly realized—
Lu Qinglian was a person with a cell phone now too.
And the business this morning was to get her a SIM card.
Zhang Shutong had originally thought getting a card these days was very loose and could be done by just spending some money, but after looking into it, he learned that the service outlets on the island had already started real-name registration. There was only one service outlet on their island. Logically, policies in small places should be more flexible, but in reality, it was exactly the opposite.
Minors still required the accompaniment of a guardian.
For adults, it was a bit better; just having the ID card present would do. Zhang Shutong simply decided to carry the good deed through to the end. Since he had gifted the phone, he couldn't just let her play Snake on it.
He asked for his mother's opinion, and his mother generously slapped down her ID card, saying, "Use mine to get it done." Not only did she get it done, she also provided a sum of funds to help Classmate Lu top up her phone bill.
So he specifically set aside time on Sunday. The service outlet opened at nine o'clock, so rushing over now was just right.
It was a matter that had been agreed upon this Friday.
Lu Qinglian wasn't wearing her green robe today. Instead, she wore a down jacket—the most dirt-resistant grey, perfectly ordinary, showing no signs of being new or old. It looked like a promotional model bought from the commercial street. Zhang Shutong felt that she probably hadn't bought a slim-fit model back then, but currently this down jacket was a bit small, instead outlining her slender and graceful figure.
"Classmate Zhang Shutong, you had best correct your habit of staring at others the moment you meet."
"First time seeing it," Zhang Shutong shrugged. "How come you even have a down jacket?"
Lu Qinglian let out a soft sigh.
It seemed her mood was decent today.
Only then did Zhang Shutong notice she was holding a red piece of plastic in her hand, easily recognizable as the wrapper of a ham sausage. He seemed to understand why Lu Qinglian was in a good mood.
"Let's go."
Zhang Shutong patted the rear seat of the bicycle.
"I can keep up," Lu Qinglian refused instead.
Under normal circumstances, Lu Qinglian didn't like others carrying her, nor had she ever been carried by anyone else.
But today clearly wasn't a normal circumstance.
Zhang Shutong reminded her:
"Didn't I tell you to walk less? When you go back to the hospital for a follow-up, you'll probably get nagged at again."
Lu Qinglian looked at him, seemingly letting him continue; she almost never said useless words like "and then."
"That doctor called my mom yesterday and asked when we're coming for a follow-up. My mom asked if today would work, and she said yes, so the two of them settled it."
Yes, this matter had been agreed upon entirely without the knowledge of the person concerned.
Lu Qinglian stopped speaking, but a tiny trace of a helpless expression still surfaced in her eyes. Zhang Shutong carried her, remembering that last time he was still riding a motorcycle. He really was regressing the more he went on; would he have to walk next time?
"How is the phone working out? Which functions don't you understand?"
"It's fine. There's an instruction manual in the box." She spoke light-headedly, as if it were a minor matter that couldn't stump her.
But Zhang Shutong felt too embarrassed to say that we basically never look at the instruction manual when using a phone.
"When the time comes, we'll need to set up a plan and pick a number. Data is very expensive, but the ones within the province will be cheaper. I suggest you get an intra-province one."
"I've noted it, thank you."
"Right, do you know what data is? To popularize it..."
"Do you have any more chewing gum?" Lu Qinglian asked bluntly.
Zhang Shutong felt his pocket:
"You want some?"
"I suggest you eat one. It's quieter that way."
After riding for another stretch of distance, Lu Qinglian asked:
"Roughly what price range is the plan?"
Zhang Shutong blew a bubble toward her.
Lu Qinglian looked at him expressionlessly.
To prevent being called childish by her, Zhang Shutong hid the chewing gum beneath his tongue and recalled:
"Not too expensive. There are options from dozens to hundreds; twenty a month is more suitable."
"What about Shenzhouxing?" she asked seriously.
"Uh... you even know about Shenzhouxing?"
"This commercial is often played on television."
Zhang Shutong used to think the target demographic for television commercials was middle-aged and elderly people, but now he realized there was one sitting right behind him.
He truly worried for her future children.
They wouldn't end up buying a point-and-read learning machine, would they?
"I can't remember clearly either. We'll see when we get to the shop."
"Okay."
"But let me clarify with you first. My mom said she'll completely cover your phone bill. The mission assigned to me today—don't be polite."
"This isn't very good."
"The grace of saving a life, after all. The more you refuse, the more she'll rack her brains to repay it. I advise you to best agree. That way, next time she buys something else, you can say you've already topped up your phone bill before, making it easier to refuse."
Lu Qinglian thought about it and nodded.
Zhang Shutong naturally couldn't see her nod, but he could feel the breath exhaled against the back of his neck shift gently.
The two of them soon rode into the urban area.
Even though it was a leisurely Sunday, Zhang Shutong let out a sigh.
Some decisions hadn't been made yet, while some appointments had already been settled.
For instance, he had also agreed to make a trip to the tunnel in a bit.