Winter Time Rendering

Upon hearing this, Song hurried forward to shake their hands. "Thank you for all your hard work." He couldn’t help but ask, a mix of curiosity and lingering fear in his voice, "So, what were those five bastards really here to do?"

To his surprise, the officer gave them a strange look. "To douse the place in gasoline, of course. Isn’t that what your student told us when he called it in?"

Song quickly tried to smooth things over. "Kids don’t know what they’re doing. Please don’t take it to heart. He just wanted to make sure you’d take it seriously." But before he could finish, a realization dawned on him.

"Wait, they were actually here to splash gasoline?"

The officer, looking even more perplexed, nodded.

By now, Zhang Shutong had already run over to the police car. He had gotten the answers he wanted from the other two officers and didn’t know whether to feel relieved or just speechless.

The fake emergency he’d reported had turned out to be real.

The whole incident hadn’t been particularly dangerous, as both parties had arrived at almost the exact same time. The five assailants had barely gotten out of their car before the responding officers swarmed and subdued them on the ground.

More details were subsequently confirmed.

The five men were indeed business owners from the commercial street.

He sighed at the wickedness of the human heart. He wasn’t planning on digging into the details tonight; it was just too cold. Zhang Shutong felt that if he stayed out in the rain any longer, he’d have a fever by morning.

Just as he was about to go talk it over with Song, the villa’s main door opened.

In the dark of the night, Zhang Shutong saw a pair of striking, beautiful eyes.

Right now, of course, they were filled with anxiety.

Gu Qiuyan came flying out, holding an umbrella.

Zhang Shutong suddenly thought, ’Maybe Song wasn’t wrong. This girl really isn’t the brightest.’ On such a cold, rainy night, she had actually run out wearing only a pair of slippers.

There’s no need to describe what happened next.

Because the script was supposed to be a heroic exit, mission accomplished.

Zhang Shutong had prepared for three different scenarios, but the one thing he hadn’t accounted for was Miss Gu refusing to let them leave.

Gu Qiuyan strongly insisted that Zhang Shutong and Song stay the night. They were to take hot showers first, then some cold medicine, and finally, crawl right into bed for a good night’s sleep.

Of the three of them, Gu Qiuyan cast a vote in favor, as did Song Nanshan. Without even consulting Zhang Shutong, Song dragged him into the villa.

"Even if you don’t want to stay, you have to think about your teacher! I’m an old man. You want me to drag you all the way home, soaked to the bone? Are you trying to kill me? Go on, get yourself dried off. Don’t let Qiumian’s kindness go to waste..."

The housekeeper had already prepared two towels.

He vigorously dried his hair. Without a mirror, he guessed it was a total mess. The heating was on indoors, so he took off his jacket and changed into a guest bathrobe. With his feet slapping against the floor in a pair of slippers, he looked surprisingly like a high-powered CEO.

Gu Qiuyan had gone to take a shower. She had been freezing outside for a while. In the four-story villa, her bedroom was on the second floor and had its own en-suite bathroom, so she was out of sight for now.

Zhang Shutong and Song were on the first floor. They didn’t go to shower immediately. A certain masculine reserve told them... it probably wasn’t proper to strip naked the moment you entered someone else’s home.

The two decided to tough it out a little longer.

Learning they hadn’t eaten yet, the housekeeper went to prepare a late-night snack.

Zhang Shutong strolled alone to the villa’s balcony.

’Though he wasn’t sure if you could call it a balcony.’ There was a massive floor-to-ceiling window, and beneath it, a raised solid wood platform spanned the area. On it were a few cushions, a small coffee table, and a lounge chair.

But despite these items, the platform still felt incredibly spacious.

Strip lighting was embedded beneath the platform, casting a warm glow that reflected off the marble floor.

Zhang Shutong stepped onto the platform and walked to the window, which overlooked the villa’s backyard. Rainwater streamed down the glass, reflecting the colorful lights from inside.

It was impossible to see anything clearly outside anymore.

Next to the large window was a small door that led to the backyard.

Zhang Shutong opened the door and instinctively looked up. He saw a covered walkway running along the window over the artificial turf. ’A good place to read a book when the weather’s nice,’ he thought.

He stood quietly on the walkway for a moment.

Before him was pitch-black space, so dark he couldn’t see his hand in front of his face. Behind him was the warmth of the indoors. The housekeeper seemed to be cooking noodles; through the sound of the rain, he could hear the BUBBLE BUBBLE of boiling water.

A chill began to creep back into his body. He grabbed his other arm, feeling his muscles begin to tremble uncontrollably. Zhang Shutong just clutched his phone, standing silently in the darkness before him.

Just then, Song Nanshan’s voice came from behind him.

"What are you doing out here brooding, kid? Hurry up and take a shower."

He turned his head. Song was also wearing a bathrobe, revealing only the fuzzy calves of his legs.

He was holding a mug, apparently having made himself a cup of coffee. He took a sip as he spoke, looking utterly relaxed.

"I wanted to wait a bit longer."

"The night is long, and sleep is far from my mind," Song declared with artistic flair. He even translated it into English for himself, as if reciting a line from Shakespeare.

"Feeling the aftershock?" he asked, patting Zhang Shutong’s shoulder.

"I’m fine."

"I have to admit, you have a talent for looking cool, kid. You did a good job tonight." Song took another sip of coffee and stood shoulder-to-shoulder with him on the walkway. They both watched the fine rain fall. After a long moment, he said, "But, as your teacher, there’s still something I need to tell you."

Zhang Shutong nodded to show he was listening.

Song, however, suddenly turned a bit solemn.

"Even though you’re smarter than your teacher, and you can account for any situation, making all sorts of plans and preparations—what was it, two or three contingencies?—you’re much better than I am, and I’m very proud of you for that. But, Shutong..."

Zhang Shutong was suddenly reminded of a test-taking tip Song had shared in class that day: if someone adds a "but," it means the part that follows is what they really want to say.