Winter Time Rendering

In any case, Zhang Shutong didn’t want to dwell on the details of the tense situation. For instance, right now, he could even hear the owner’s wife in the back, hurrying the kitchen.

"Is it not ready yet? That table is already asking for their food!"

"Then let them wait," a man with a deep, rough voice replied. The owner cursed under his breath, "What damn bad luck. I was wondering why we only had one table for lunch..."

"...You wouldn’t even let them into the private room, and you’re purposely delaying their food... Why turn away paying customers? It’s all business..."

’What does that mean?’

Zhang Shutong was just about to wash his hands when he froze.

’There was more to the story with the private room?’

And as for their food, he had just assumed the owner’s wife was giving them a little extra attention because she recognized the four of them as regulars.

Just then, his phone buzzed with a QQ notification. Zhang Shutong quickly silenced it and glanced down. It was a message from Ruoping, asking what flavor of milk tea he wanted, as she was going to buy some. Zhang Shutong casually replied, "Pearl."

He then told her to go wander around for a bit with the others. He said he had an upset stomach and would pay the bill and find them afterward.

Ruoping replied, asking how they could really let him pay.

’Before, I just wanted to treat you all,’ Zhang Shutong thought. ’But now, I can’t have you coming back here—’

He wanted to use this chance to overhear a little more. If Ruoping and the others called for the check, the owner’s wife would have to run back out front.

So he sent a grinning emoji and said he’d make them all pay him back at KFC over the weekend.

Hearing this, Ruoping didn’t stand on ceremony with him and let the matter drop.

Still worried that wasn’t enough, he sent a message to Qingyi. Qingyi was the most reliable one in these situations; he wouldn’t need a long explanation.

Zhang Shutong told him to take the other two and leave first, saying he had something to deal with.

Qingyi replied with an "OK" emoji and didn’t ask any questions.

After taking care of all that, Zhang Shutong quietly pressed his ear to the partition, listening.

The owner’s wife was muttering anxiously.

"Why do you have to have something against money..."

But the man retorted angrily:

"It’s that son of a bitch who’s making me turn down money!"

"...I try to calm you down a little and you get all worked up, is that it? Let me tell you, Mo, you can curse about it all you want, but you absolutely cannot get involved in that business..."

"I’m not getting involved..."

"Good. That’s how it should be. We’re just ordinary people..."

’What business were they talking about?’

’Demolition compensation?’

Zhang Shutong was frowning in thought when he heard someone shout from outside the restroom—

"Check!"

"Coming, coming!" the owner’s wife replied hurriedly, rushing out.

Zhang Shutong slammed his fist on the sink. ’Just my luck,’ he thought. ’Whatever you’re afraid of is bound to happen.’ He had convinced Ruoping and the others to leave, but he’d completely forgotten there was another table in the restaurant.

Now he wouldn’t be able to get any more information. He sighed and walked out of the restroom.

Back at the table, he saw that more than half of the shredded fish dish was left. He asked for a bag to take it to go. This was before the big "Clean Plate" campaigns, but Zhang Shutong wasn’t being particularly frugal; he was just planning to have it for dinner.

When he got to the front counter, the guy who had been shouting for the check finally sauntered over. Zhang Shutong realized it was the same guy who had been arguing with Du Kang earlier. ’He must be a lowerclassman,’ he figured, ’otherwise he wouldn’t call Gu Qiuyan "Sister Gu."’ He mulled over the title, finding it pretty amusing.

Come to think of it, hadn’t their table even gotten all their food yet? Why the rush to pay the bill? Then he saw the guy was holding a thick wad of hundred-yuan bills, flicking it around out of boredom. The only explanation was that the "young miss" had a style all her own.

The guy was clearly a restless sort. He said to the owner’s wife with a smirk, "We’ll pay for our table now. You’ll feel better once you have the money, right? So hurry up with our food."

"Oh, no, that’s not it, we’re just really swamped..." the owner’s wife explained.

On the surface, it looked like this group was causing trouble, but the reality was the complete opposite.

Zhang Shutong watched, not knowing what to say. He just waited patiently for the owner’s wife to finish calculating his bill.

He glanced at the total. The meal was over a hundred.

’That’s not cheap,’ he thought. ’And by the way, why is a Nutrition Express five yuan?’

He was still mulling over the conversation he’d overheard. He was already lost in thought, and now this guy was next to him, whining loudly about why she wasn’t ringing him up first. The noise was giving him a headache.

At this point, Zhang Shutong just wanted to get out of there. He frowned instinctively, pulled out his phone, and asked casually:

"Where’s the QR code for payment?"

"What code?" The owner’s wife blinked in confusion.

’The QR code,’ he thought. He was about to rephrase, but then he looked up, searching for the familiar blue and green square. He scanned the counter but found nothing. Then he glanced at his phone screen again and realized it didn’t even have Alipay installed. So much for QR codes.

It was 2012.

Zhang Shutong wasn’t sure if he had enough cash on him.

’It had better be enough.’

He rummaged through all of his pockets. A fifty-yuan bill made him breathe a sigh of relief, followed by two tens, a twenty...

He was trying to dig out the money while also holding the plastic bag, and he was quickly running out of hands.

The owner’s wife noticed something was amiss. She forced a smile and said, "No rush, no rush, take your time." For some reason, the other guy sidled up to him and asked, acting overly familiar:

"Yo, buddy. You’re a classmate of Sister Gu, right?"

Zhang Shutong nodded distractedly.

’Looks like I don’t have enough cash...’

He even pulled out the coins he’d gotten back as change from his breakfast.

Ninety-five, ninety-six... a hundred and one. The count stopped there and wouldn’t budge.

’You’ve got to be kidding me. The first time I’ve treated anyone to a meal since coming back, and I didn’t bring enough money. This is beyond embarrassing.’

Zhang Shutong bit the inside of his cheek.

"So, what’s your relationship with her?" the guy continued to pry.

"We’re just classmates..." Zhang Shutong looked up at the owner’s wife. "Could you round it down a bit?"

The smile on the owner’s wife’s face finally crumbled.

"Kiddo, your total is one hundred and twenty-five. I can knock off the five for you, but this..."

Zhang Shutong prepared to make the humiliating call for backup.

Just then, the other guy clapped him on the shoulder.

"So you two aren’t close, then. No wonder I’ve never heard of you. I was actually going to ask you to look out for her if anything came up in class, but... well, if one meal is enough to put you in this kind of bind... Ah, forget it. I’ll get it. You’re Sister Gu’s classmate, after all. Strangers the first time, friends the second. We’re all buddies now, right?"

With that, he grandly pulled out a twenty-yuan bill and slapped it on the counter.

"Don’t bother," Zhang Shutong refused, his brow furrowed.

It wasn’t about the amount of money, and it wasn’t about saving face. He could tell the difference between a genuine offer to help and one with strings attached. Worst-case scenario, he’d just get Du Kang to bike back with the money.

He said to the owner’s wife,

"I’m going to call a classmate. Please wait a moment."

"I already said I’d cover it for you, what’s the big deal? Why are you trying to act so tough, man? You really don’t want my help? Fine, then I’m really not getting involved, you sure?"

Zhang Shutong was getting genuinely annoyed.

This kid was like a bantam rooster, just chirping away, as if he absolutely had to win some kind of victory over him. Too lazy to deal with him, Zhang Shutong found Du Kang’s number, dialed, and waited for the call to connect.

"Okay then, you go ahead and call. It’s really not that I’m trying to make things hard for you, you know. It’s a small business. We’d lose money otherwise..."

"Just ignore him," the guy said. "Ring us up first. Can’t even scrape together twenty yuan, what’s he doing eating at a restaurant for..."

His ears were filled with a cacophony of sounds. The guy was laughing, and the owner’s wife was laughing too, though their smiles held entirely different meanings. From the other end of the line, a sweet, automated female voice announced: *Sorry, the user you have dialed is currently busy...*

Zhang Shutong turned to move to a quieter spot.

But then, a fair, slender hand reached out from over his shoulder. Its owner flicked her fingers, and several red banknotes fluttered down onto the counter, causing the laughter to die in an instant.

"What’s this about twenty?"

A young woman’s level voice sounded from behind him.

"I’m paying for his meal."