"What's the matter?"
Zhang Shutong asked Gu Qiumian, faintly able to glimpse her delicate collarbone.
Could it be that she was worried he would secretly go to her room?
Speaking of rooms, he also wondered if he was being too familiar. This guest room hadn't been assigned to him yet, but he had just come up on his own.
The corridor was quiet, and the door was half-open. Looking inside, the dark carpet and printed wallpaper complemented each other, and there was a rich classical atmosphere here, making her look like a princess who had stepped out of an oil painting.
Now the noble princess stood at the bedroom door, questioning the knight who had fled:
"What are you doing here by yourself?"
"Chatting with friends, didn't want to disturb you all." The knight also had a legitimate excuse.
"Is it that important?" The princess looked disappointed.
"It's quite important."
"Then are you done chatting?"
What does "done" mean?
Zhang Shutong thought for a moment:
"You go downstairs first. I'll just go to sleep in a bit."
Gu Qiumian, however, pushed the door completely open without any explanation:
"Who told you to stay here? You're staying downstairs tonight."
"What about Teacher Song?" Zhang Shutong remembered that there were only two guest rooms on the first floor, and one of them was the housekeeper's room.
"He's on the third floor."
How come your house is full of guest rooms?
He still underestimated the young lady's methods; it was easy to handle him on her territory.
He had to change his approach:
"I'm a little tired today, sorry."
Then Gu Qiumian stopped talking, her face visibly turning cold:
"Then you stay here by yourself!"
She closed the door and left without a second thought.
Her hair was not dry yet. When she abruptly shook her head, it was as if a faint mist of water had splashed on his face. Zhang Shutong wiped his nose and watched her quickly enter the elevator and go downstairs without a word.
The corridor became quiet again. The felt carpet absorbed all sounds. The door was wide open, and all he could see in the frame was the expensive wallpaper, but it was like an oil painting without a protagonist, leaving only the background.
Then no matter how complex the pattern was, it lost its meaning.
Zhang Shutong closed the door, lay down on the bed, and dialed Qingyi's number.
"What happened just now?"
"Gu Qiumian came." Zhang Shutong lazily stretched his limbs, feeling as though his whole body was falling apart.
"Oh, I forgot to ask just now, why are you staying at Gu Qiumian's house?"
He explained briefly, and Qingyi said in surprise:
"And you're still chatting with me?"
"What else?"
"Of course, you should go down and watch a movie with her. It's snowing outside, and the light from the TV will illuminate your faces. It would be very romantic."
"She's watching Stephen Chow." Zhang Shutong reminded him.
"Oh, then never mind."
Wait, wait.
Zhang Shutong just realized, when did this guy's romantic book have women in it?
Shouldn't he be saying something like a man's romance is walking in the snow?
He sighed:
"Does it make me look strange?"
"More than just strange."
"Gu Qiumian seemed to be angry just now."
"It would be strange if she wasn't."
"But I'm not in the mood," Zhang Shutong didn't want to move at all right now. If it weren't for a few questions he hadn't figured out, he would have wanted to lie down and sleep. "I know it kind of spoils the atmosphere. Everyone is excited, and you're just sitting there with a sour face, like an unsociable kid. But... whatever, let's talk about business."
He asked again:
"What were you suggesting I do just now?"
"I suggest you first put away the spare keys. She should have spare keys at her house, right? And then tell Gu Qiumian not to go out at night during this time. Isn't there also a dog? When her dad comes back, things should be fine."
"Maybe." Zhang Shutong rubbed his brow, not knowing whether to say that he was thinking too simply, because he had thought the same way last time, but Gu Qiumian was still harmed.
"You seem a little stressed," Qingyi said strangely. "I'm playing this like a brain game, but Shutong, why do you give me the feeling that this thing is definitely going to happen?"
"I'm a deep thinker." Zhang Shutong said with a casual joke. "Actually, I'm worried that Lu Qinglian will do something to her. It's similar to the disputes on the commercial street; her family's temple is also going to be torn down, right? Although there are no conflicts of interest this time, there might be things that are more troublesome than interest."
"Then go down and watch a movie, and relax. Haven't you heard that saying, putting all the burdens on your own shoulders is a sign of arrogance."
Zhang Shutong thought about it and didn't feel he was arrogant; he was just used to it.
He also didn't want to talk about this anymore.
But he wasn't very interested in movies, so he chatted with Qingyi about other things. As they chatted, he pulled Ruoping and Du kang in. Du kang didn't reply, probably busy. Ruoping, however, joined in excitedly.
"I just watched the TV, and the snow here even made it to the city news. Let's build a snowman tomorrow?"
"No." Qingyi was the first to refuse, then said, "Do you still remember when it snowed last year, you also said you wanted to build a snowman and called the three of us to lend a hand, and what happened?"
Zhang Shutong also remembered. The result was that the three of them were responsible for "building" the snowman, and she was responsible for putting her hands in her pockets and taking pictures on the side. It was indeed lending a hand.
"I'm experienced this time..." Ruoping tried to cover up with a forced smile.
"Rich in photography experience?"
"Qingyi, you're going to die!"
Zhang Shutong stopped talking and smiled, listening to the two of them arguing with each other. He felt it was very sleep-inducing. He simply turned on the speaker, threw the phone next to the pillow, and stared blankly at the ceiling.
"I do want to go skiing. There's a slope on the back mountain that's not too steep. Shutong said Teacher Song's tire burst. How about we get the tire, nail a wooden board to the bottom, and make a sled?"
"Okay, okay. We can do it after school on Friday and go on Saturday. Let me think. Didn't we say we were going to buy a birthday present on Saturday? Then we can buy the stuff in the morning and go in the afternoon?"
He listened as the two of them planned their schedule, one after another, and was about to interject when the knocking on the door sounded again.
The conversation beside the pillow had covered up the sound of the elevator door opening, so he reacted a beat too late.
Zhang Shutong looked at his phone. Only six or seven minutes had passed. Could it be that Gu Qiumian was not giving up and still wanted to pull him down to watch a movie?
He then got a bit of a headache. No matter how good the sound insulation of the villa was, he could hear the sound from the room while standing outside the door. He had just said he was a little tired, but then he was chatting happily with his best friends. To Gu Qiumian's ears, it was almost like he was full of lies.
It's like you ask someone out for dinner, and they say they have a fever and don't want to go. Then that night, you happen to run into them at a restaurant, sitting with other people and laughing and talking.
Sure enough, the knocking stopped. The person outside seemed to have heard the lively discussion inside the door.
Zhang Shutong ended the call, sat up from the bed, and opened the door with a thick skin. Gu Qiumian's face had completely turned cold.
He hadn't been an assistant for nothing during this time; he could tell whether she was really angry or faking it.
For example, on the way home, when she told him to pay for a thermos, her face was as cold as frost, but that was faked.
But now, it was real.