Zhang Shutong stuffed the two wooden plaques into his pocket and hurriedly headed downstairs.
In the kitchen, Ruoping's mother was busy at the cutting board.
"Auntie, where's Ruoping?" Zhang Shutong asked urgently.
"We ran out of garlic, so Ping'er went out to buy some. Shutong, you wouldn't know, but a vegetable market just opened on our island last year. It's so lively... Is there something you need? You can just tell Auntie."
The woman was in the middle of wrapping dumplings, her hands and the apron in front of her covered in flour.
"I have some urgent business and need to step out for a bit," Zhang Shutong could only say. "Can I borrow the keys to the electric scooter?"
"Hey, the dumplings are about to go into the pot. No matter how urgent it is, you should have a bite to eat before you leave. Besides, there are no ferries at this hour anyway..."
Zhang Shutong had already run out the door.
His breathing began to grow rapid.
His own home.
It was right at his own home.
Otherwise, he wouldn't have run all this way holding a useless key.
He cast a quick glance around. That white SUV had indeed already been driven away. Zhang Shutong hopped onto the scooter, twisted the handlebar, and the tiny vehicle started up with a whoosh.
He actually didn't want to stay on this timeline any longer. Zhang Shutong told himself that his current task was to find that clue, then take it back with him and avoid repeating the same mistakes.
He had very, very little left to lose or linger for here. The night wind howled by his ears just as it had in the past, but the streets no longer looked the way they used to. He drove the scooter along the road he had traversed countless times, completely familiar with every turn. Five years ago, this place had been his battlefield, and five years later, it remained the same.
Before long, Zhang Shutong slammed on the brakes, the rear tire grinding a black streak onto the concrete ground. Before the scooter could even come to a complete stop, he hurriedly ran up to the second floor. Zhang Shutong stood in front of his apartment door, panting slightly. There was no welcome mat in front of the door, and this place shouldn't have been assigned to anyone else. He slotted the key inside, then twisted it, hearing a crisp click.
The door opened smoothly.
Zhang Shutong gazed into the living room. It looked exactly as it had five years ago, except the family portrait on the wall had been taken down. Everything else had barely been moved—the sofa was still there, the coffee table was still there, and the television was still there. The furniture here had been furnished from the start; his family could practically move in with just their bags. Now, the place was deserted, with only a layer of dust coating the surfaces.
He looked around, first taking in everything within his line of sight before quickly running to his own room. His room hadn't changed much either—the desk, the bed... Zhang Shutong pulled open the drawer, but it was empty too. Pursing his lips, he half-knelt on the ground and peered under the bed.
But there was absolutely nothing under the bed either.
Where is it...
Zhang Shutong knit his brows tightly. He recalled his own habits. If it were him, where would he put that "thing"?
The answer was that he wouldn't leave it at home at all.
If it were important, it should be carried on his person, or a subtle clue should be left behind.
If it were important, it shouldn't just sit inside this concrete apartment of a few dozen square meters.
Zhang Shutong thought about it and searched through his parents' room as well. He even went as far as to remove the toilet water tank cover. Someone would put something inside a waterproof plastic bag and then tape it to the inside of the water tank cover, right? But even though he had thought of all of this, he found absolutely nothing.
Finally, he sat on the sofa, a wave of anxiety rising in his chest, which he suppressed with a deep breath.
Where on earth was it?
Zhang Shutong began to recall everything he had witnessed this afternoon. Everyone was entirely unsurprised by his itinerary; everyone knew early on that he was returning to the island. Logically speaking, he should have left some kind of preparation behind, like Qingyi's phone call on the Cold-Blooded Line...
Unless—
Zhang Shutong studied the key in his hand.
Unless he truly had no backup plans.
His previous regressions had all taken place eight years into the future, so anticipating it and preparing a fallback option wouldn't be difficult. But what if this regression was something even he hadn't foreseen?
Who would hide an important item at home? This wasn't some sturdy, hidden steel fortress; the lock on the security door could probably be picked by a common thief... Zhang Shutong's heart suddenly went cold. He remembered that his stated task today was to help move houses, and since it couldn't be finished in a single day, Ruoping's mother had tidied up a room for him.
Zhang Shutong gripped the key tightly. The truth might be utterly ridiculous—could it be that he simply didn't want to trouble Ruoping's family, and had just looked for a place where he could make do for the night?
Then what was the point of him running over here?
Zhang Shutong looked at the completely messy living room. He had turned almost every piece of furniture upside down, searching places that could hide things and places that couldn't. Despite this, he still had nothing to show for it.
Zhang Shutong fell silent for a brief moment, then dialed Ruoping's number again.
"Hey, what's up?" The voice from the other end was clear. "I'll be back in a bit."
"I just went to tidy up the utility room next door," Zhang Shutong said. "I opened that wooden crate."
"...Why did you open my crate? What are you, a pervert?" The line paused for a split second before Ruoping's teasing voice came through. "Which dress or doll did you take a fancy to? Want this older sister to pack it up for you tomorrow?"
"It's two wooden plaques." He paused. "I have absolutely no memory of these two items. Do they have something to do with Lu Qinglian's ears?"
"Mm, I did make a wish back then, hoping her ears would get better soon."
"What about the other one?"
"What?"
"The wooden plaque that says 'sorry'." Zhang Shutong pressed further.
"Oh, you mean that one. I picked it up. Back then, I thought the pattern on the back looked nice, so I kept it. If you hadn't brought it up, I would've almost forgotten."
Her voice sounded natural and light, but Zhang Shutong caught that her breathing had quickened slightly compared to before.
"Was it really just because it looked nice?"
"Back then, you always said I was a boy-crazy girl. What can I say? In this wide world, good looks override everything else. Don't tell me you're getting paranoid again?" Ruoping laughed and scolded. "We're in college now; the time for playing detective is long gone."
"When are you coming back?"
"What's with the interrogation?"
"Auntie said you went to the vegetable market to buy groceries."
"Yeah, green peppers."
"Green peppers?" Zhang Shutong remembered it was supposed to be garlic.
"Otherwise? Who do you think it's for? Isn't it because I know you love eating green peppers stir-fried with shredded pork? Hanging up, hanging up, we'll talk when I get back..."
Hearing this, Zhang Shutong fell silent. The sound of an animal crying out came from the other end of the line, sounding like a stray dog at the vegetable market, before everything faded into tranquility.
At a complete dead end.
Zhang Shutong rubbed the space between his eyebrows and dialed Qingyi's number. He stood up while the phone was ringing, thinking that if he couldn't unearth any other clues, he should at least figure out what had happened between Ruoping and Du Kang first.
"How is it?" The call connected shortly after.
"I found two wishing plaques at Ruoping's house. Hold on..."
As Zhang Shutong spoke, he laid the wooden plaques out on the table. He had placed a video call, so any clues would be perfectly clear to Qingyi on the other end. However, the lighting in the living room was simply too dim. The night sky was bound to fall eventually; not long ago, the fading sun had been as red as blood, but now it was slowly hiding its silhouette.
Only then did Zhang Shutong remember that he hadn't even had the time to turn on the lights. He walked to the entryway, but then remembered that the electricity to the apartment had long been cut off. Sure enough, flicking the switch yielded no response.
He let out a sigh and paced over to the balcony.
"I'm going to the balcony, there's a bit of light there. Let me describe it to you first. One was almost certainly written by Ruoping, about Lu Qinglian's ears. And there's another one that says 'sorry, sorry'—yes, those exact four words. I can't recognize the handwriting... You don't know either?"
"Mm, what did Ruoping say?"
"She said she picked it up." Zhang Shutong paused. "But I don't think that's right. Let's assume this one is also related to Lu Qinglian's ears. Who do you think could have been involved back then? Du Kang?"
"Probably not. Even if he really wanted to write something, he wouldn't write 'sorry.' Shouldn't it be something like hoping Lu Qinglian gets better soon? But don't you know either?" Qingyi let out a sigh. "If you hadn't asked me yourself, just hearing the description makes me think it sounds like something you wrote."
"What do you mean?"
"Just joking, don't take it seriously." Qingyi pondered. "Let me think... Ruoping did indeed visit the temple back then, but I truly didn't know she had written a wishing plaque. Of course, writing one is perfectly normal; what's strange is why she didn't hang it up. But this kind of thing is hard to say..."
Zhang Shutong walked to the edge of the balcony.
He used the remaining light to illuminate the wooden plaques. While Qingyi was trying to discern the handwriting, he silently looked out the window. To be honest, he didn't harbor much expectation. Qingyi seemed to know even less than he did. It was highly possible that just like the key to his apartment, this was nothing more than a false alarm.
Zhang Shutong abstractedly clutched that cluster of keys. Even now, he still felt that something was hidden in this home, right by his side.
Although the furniture in the apartment hadn't been moved, the bedding had been cleared out. It wasn't as if there were no inns on the island, and staying a night was very cheap; even if he were to make do, he shouldn't make do for a night on a bare wooden bed frame.
But what exactly was it?
And who was it related to?
Zhang Shutong thought, Could it be that my train of thought was wrong from the very beginning? No one would hide such an important item in an abandoned apartment. It's not a secret, but something else entirely?
Was there something he needed to return to retrieve?
He had only done two things since arriving on the island: helping move houses and seeing Lu Qinglian. The former didn't require him to go home, and the latter...
As if guided by some unseen force, Zhang Shutong turned his head and looked at the utility closet at the end of the balcony. Though called a utility closet, it was actually partitioned off by an alloy sliding door, forming an independent little space.
He also knew there was a storage rack inside the utility closet. It was very tall; if something were placed on the very top, his mother wouldn't be able to reach it even on her tiptoes, and she would have to call him for help.
Zhang Shutong had never imagined that something could be hidden inside here. Who would put a highly important object on an open, well-lit balcony? It could be under the bed, under the sofa, or even at the bottom of the toilet water tank, but you would never hide a secret on a storage rack. No, that simply couldn't be associated with "hiding" at all.
Now, he instinctively walked over. The sliding door had grown a bit rusty, requiring a bit of effort to pull open.
Zhang Shutong finally saw the scene inside the utility closet. Logically speaking, since the place was deserted, that storage rack should have been completely empty, yet a cardboard box lay quietly on the very top.
He could reach up and take the cardboard box down. It was a white shoebox, bought from the only department store on the island. If he remembered correctly, there was a beautiful pattern printed on it. Zhang Shutong had always possessed a great memory, but this time, he had remembered wrong.
Exposed to the sun and wind, through the shifting of stars and seasons, even the most beautiful cardboard box would lose its color.
Zhang Shutong weighed it in his hands; the weight hadn't changed.
He opened the cardboard box. The plastic shrink wrap on the outside had already cracked, but the shoes inside were perfectly preserved. One pair was a clean but somewhat worn pair of cloth shoes, while the other was a brand-new pair of cotton boots that looked very warm.
But this was summer.
Zhang Shutong lowered his gaze, closed the cardboard box, and returned it to the top of the storage rack. There was no point in overanalyzing many things. He didn't particularly want to figure out why it hadn't been taken away even during the move, sitting quietly in a corner for five whole years, so... lonely.
"Let's hold off on gifting it for now. You don't understand. That pair of old sneakers of yours can suffice for now, and there will be opportunities sooner or later..."
It was as if that voice resounded by his ears again. Zhang Shutong thought to himself that even his mother could have a day where she made a mistake.
Yes, perhaps what was hidden at home wasn't a secret at all, but a regret.
"I can't recognize it either." Qingyi's voice came through the speaker. Zhang Shutong nodded, entirely unsurprised by this answer. A moment ago, another matter had crossed his mind, so he asked:
"Do you still remember exactly when Ruoping and Du Kang's relationship started to deteriorate?"
"That... Do you still remember back when we discovered a tunnel behind the hospital? Once, we went down there to clear things out. Ruoping didn't want to do manual labor with us, but she did it anyway. In the end, her head got bumped, and she went back crying."
"What happened that night?"
"Precisely because nothing happened, we felt completely at a loss," Qingyi said with worry.
Zhang Shutong knit his brows. He had been inside the tunnel at that time, unable to pull himself away. He still remembered sending an apology text to Ruoping when he went down, except there was no signal below. Immediately after, he put back the fox statue, and the regression occurred.
Just as Zhang Shutong was about to say something, he suddenly heard a rapid knocking on the door.
"Call you back later."
His nerves snapped taut in an instant, and he quietly slipped his phone into his pocket. It wasn't that he was being overly cautious; this was an abandoned apartment that had long been empty, and no one should be coming to the door. Furthermore, the lights weren't on inside, so no one should even know he was home. Or had someone been tailing him all along?
Zhang Shutong held his breath, stepping lightly across the living room. The knocking grew louder and louder. He pressed himself against the door and peered through the peephole. Fortunately, there was a sound-activated light in the hallway. Under the dim, yellow glow, Zhang Shutong clearly discerned the newcomer's face—
The person was wearing a baseball cap, carrying a document pouch in his hand, and wearing a green short-sleeved shirt, clearly dressed as a courier.
Zhang Shutong froze for a moment.
At this time, express delivery services hadn't become popular on the small island yet; most goods were delivered through the postal service.
The courier knocked on the door for a bit longer. Only when the man prepared to turn around and leave did Zhang Shutong call out:
"What is it?"
"So there is someone there! Say something next time," the courier muttered. "Your package, please sign for it."
"What package?" Zhang Shutong didn't open the door. "This place was already cleared out last year."
"Cleared out? That shouldn't be right? Did I get the wrong place?" The man said in surprise. "Room 201, for Zhang Shutong? Is that wrong?"
Zhang Shutong was equally surprised.
Just now, he had even thought of his parents' friends; perhaps someone hadn't received the news of their move and had mistakenly sent something to the island. But why would the recipient be him?
"Are you Zhang Shutong or not? If you want to reject it, just let me know?" the courier urged.
Who knew his address? If it were a friend he met in high school or college, he should have filled in his current home address.
And who knew his itinerary?
Zhang Shutong opened the door.
"I am. What is it?"
"Don't know, unpack it and see for yourself. Just sign here..."
The courier left. In the empty stairwell, Zhang Shutong was left alone holding the document pouch.
Both the name and the address of the sender were hidden. Zhang Shutong remembered that postal delivery times were usually very long. In other words, the sender needed to judge that he would return to the island—and even return to his old home—on this exact day before mailing this item.
He picked it up and gave it a shake; it felt like a small object. Zhang Shutong tore open the document pouch in a few strokes. Instead of reaching inside to grab it, he tipped the pouch downward.
With a thud, an MP3 player fell onto the floor.
An unknown package, an unknown MP3 player...
He turned around, wanting to look for a headphone cord in the apartment, only to remember that all his things had been moved away.
Headphone cord, headphone cord...
Maybe Ruoping's house had one.
He knew he couldn't stay in this apartment any longer, but who had sent this MP3 player that had suddenly popped up? And what was inside it?
The threads were getting more and more numerous.
A wave of exhaustion washed over him in an instant.
Ever since he began undergoing regressions, he had been constantly pushed forward by everything, left overwhelmed and running himself ragged. Every time he made some kind of discovery, it would end up hitting a dead end.
He couldn't go on like this.
Zhang Shutong pulled out his phone again and called Ruoping:
"Have you gotten home yet?"
"Stop rushing me, I'm just about to pay here..." The background noise was a bit chaotic. "What is it, speak?"
"Are there any headphone cords at home?"
"Yeah, right in the second drawer on the left side of the desk. Go look for it yourself. Can't talk anymore, I'm getting in the car in a bit."
Amidst a flurry of noisy sounds, Ruoping hung up the phone.
But Zhang Shutong knit his brows.
She was buying groceries.
Yes, this phone call was indeed at a market buying groceries.
The problem was...
Where was she during the previous call?
If she were in a place as noisy as a vegetable market, how could he have caught that her breathing had quickened?
She wasn't inside a car back then either.
Because he couldn't hear the wind, the tire noise, or the sound of the engine. Her surroundings should have been very quiet.
So Ruoping had gone to another place.
It was as if something clicked into place in an instant, but Zhang Shutong immediately thought: Where did she go?
Zhang Shutong recalled that sound of a dog barking.
A dog barking...
"Shutong, when you have time, help me see how Zorro is doing, feed him a ham sausage..."
Du Kang's words surfaced in his mind, and Zhang Shutong locked onto that location almost instantly.
But what did Ruoping go to his family's restaurant for?
To feed the dog?
But their relationship had clearly broken down. Regardless of whether it was to feed the dog or not, a conjecture surfaced in Zhang Shutong's heart.
He slammed the security door shut heavily, descended the stairs in a few strides, and when he rode his scooter to Du Kang's family restaurant, he went straight to the backyard.
There was a warehouse in the backyard. Ever since Du Kang left, Du Kang's parents had built a doghouse outside the warehouse, and that dog had been kept there.
This was something Zhang Shutong had asked Qingyi along the way.
The sky had grown dark. He gazed at the pitch-black warehouse. Before he could even draw close, he heard a canine bark, followed by a flash before his eyes as a completely black hound snapped the chain around its neck taut in an instant.
This was actually that little guy they had picked up back then, Zhang Shutong thought in surprise. No wonder it had to be chained up. He approached cautiously. The dog lowered its body, tucking its ears back, watching him warily.
A moment ago, it had clearly assumed an aggressive posture, but in the next second, once Zhang Shutong stepped to its side, the dog sniffed his hand and began wagging its tail to show friendliness.
Yet Zhang Shutong felt no lightness in his heart.
He had seen the dog at Gu Qiumian's house; that Doberman had been exactly the same that night—wary at first, then relaxed. Zhang Shutong knew it wasn't because he was particularly popular, but rather—
The dog had caught the scent of its owner from his body.
Because he had been covered by Gu Qiumian's down jacket, her scent remained on him. The Doberman had caught its young master's scent, and had therefore let him off.
This hound was exactly the same.
Zhang Shutong extended that wooden plaque carved with "sorry." The hound sniffed it and instantly began circling around him in excitement.
As expected...
He thought silently to himself. If this wooden plaque had been carved by Du Kang, why did Ruoping deliberately conceal it, and why did she come to this warehouse alone?
To confirm his conjecture beyond a doubt, he threw the wooden plaque out with force. The dog instantly wanted to chase after it, but having been chained to the doghouse all these years with an iron chain around its neck, the chain snapped taut in an instant, and the dog began barking frantically without stop.
Following this, the look the dog directed at him instantly turned hostile. Zhang Shutong had come prepared; he had bought a ham sausage on the way here, and now he tossed it onto the ground. The dog cast a glance at him, sniffed warily, and carried the ham sausage back into its kennel.
Zhang Shutong crouched down helplessly, thinking to himself that Du Kang had trained this dog well enough. It was black to begin with, and with the sky dark now, returning to its doghouse made it pitch black inside.
Zhang Shutong turned on his flashlight, waving it toward the dog.
Then, his pupils contracted.
Aided by the weak light of the flashlight, in a corner of the doghouse.
He seemed to see a...
Fox statue.
A sorrowful fox, gazing intently toward a certain spot.