Winter Time Rendering

A useless fact popped into Zhang Shutong’s head: large executive sedans are typically over five meters long.

Which meant the gate to Yingcai Middle School couldn’t be more than six meters wide.

In front of that gate, which was less than six meters wide, a girl named Gu Qiuyan stepped out of a car. Today she wore a chic, light brown dress with gray tights. The outfit couldn’t hide the slender lines of her calves. Zhang Shutong didn’t understand girls’ fashion, but he got a vague sense of a retro vibe from her.

She looked like a fashionable girl strolling through a city, her bright aura overshadowing the antiquity of every corner. But this was just a small island, so instead, her presence must have simply awakened the morning’s vitality.

Then, the girl’s stylish little leather boots planted themselves on the ground. Gu Qiuyan leaned halfway out of the car. As a cold gust of wind blew by, she first pulled her wool coat tighter. It was a short, khaki-colored coat, its collar nestled against her cheeks, which were red from the cold, making her seem all the more petite.

Just then, the driver’s side window rolled down, and a man’s voice drifted out:

"Try to have a good time at school. And if you run into any more of that business from before, you tell me..."

Gu Qiuyan didn’t look at the car window, just stared at the school gate, nodding absently.

Then the man added:

"Alright, Dad’s leaving now, Mianmian..."

The girl froze. Her brows knitted, and her delicate nose wrinkled. "Jeez! I told you not to call me that..."

She had a habit of adding filler words when she spoke, but it didn’t sound affected or fake. In fact, it softened the edge of her anger, making her sound almost gentle. As she spoke, Gu Qiuyan instinctively turned to look behind her, and her eyes met those of a boy pushing a bicycle.

"You!" The girl gritted her teeth.

"’Morning." The boy greeted her calmly.

Having said that, Zhang Shutong blinked.

’Did I... just hear something I shouldn’t have?’

She looked like she wanted to ask him why he was eavesdropping, but Zhang Shutong was genuinely just passing by.

To be honest, he didn’t really mind hearing someone’s pet name. His own was Tongtong, and life as Tongtong went on just fine. But it seemed Mianmian herself was extremely bothered by it, as if her entire day was already ruined:

Gu Qiuyan glared again with her pretty eyes and opened her mouth to say something else, a puff of white vapor escaping her lips. But in the end, she just stomped her foot fiercely, shot a glare at who-knows-who, and decided to ignore the man and the boy behind her.

She spun around, a charm at the end of a lock of hair swinging with the motion, and stormed off. Even the small pleats of her skirt hem seemed to lag half a beat behind her.

A wry chuckle came from the car. Zhang Shutong shrugged.

The Audi’s engine roared to life, spitting a trail of black exhaust into the clean morning air. It seemed to foreshadow a new school year filled with the smoke of battle right from the get-go.

Zhang Shutong pushed his bike through the school gates. As he was locking it, he found himself wondering, ’Actually, I didn’t hear them that clearly... Was it Mianmian, or *Baa-baa*?’

’But I can’t ever bring that up. If anyone asks why, it’s because Tongtong wants to live a quiet life...’ He suddenly felt a wave of self-disgust. Zhang Shutong swore to never use cutesy-doubled names again.

But whether it was Mian or *Baa*, both brought sheep to mind. He took the liberty of guessing that this was why Gu Qiuyan liked to draw them.

Outside the classroom building, a few students on duty were sweeping. Their large brooms, made from bundled sorghum stalks, might not have been the best for cleaning, but they were perfect as weapons. At that very moment, two boys were dueling. One wielded his broom like a greatsword, charging forward with a loud ’HYAAAH!’

The other tucked his under his arm, strafing his opponent with a "RAT-AT-AT-AT!" The first boy charged two steps, clutched his chest, and collapsed, his acting completely convincing.

A broom takes on a different form in every boy’s imagination. Zhang Shutong watched, intrigued, and was about to offer his own take on the matter. But looking at the two students on duty, he suddenly remembered that he was on cleaning duty all next week for not turning in his homework two days ago. His interest instantly vanished.

’Speaking of homework, I don’t think I did yesterday’s either...’

Crap.

But on second thought, the four of them had rendered a great service last night. For the time being, they had a legitimate excuse.

’So I won’t bother catching up just yet. Hopefully, Song will understand.’

His pace, which had been about to quicken, slowed once more.

Up the stairs and down the hall, he could hear the sounds of morning reading drifting from the classroom.

He walked into the classroom and saw a boy with slightly dark skin standing next to his seat. His name was... Zhou something? All Zhang Shutong remembered was that he used to be Gu Qiuyan’s deskmate.

’They must be pretty close,’ Zhang Shutong thought. ’As expected of the man—oh, wait, boy—who could tell Gu Qiuyan was drawing a sheep. Catching up so early in the morning... It makes me feel a little awkward about taking my seat.’

’Maybe I’m robbing this guy of his chance to get fed snacks.’

’Maybe I’ve separated the only kindred spirit who can truly appreciate Gu Qiuyan.’

Zhang Shutong felt weighed down by his sins.

But he watched as the boy talked on and on with no intention of sitting down. He just stood there, leaning on the edge of Zhang Shutong’s desk, muttering about something.

Zhang Shutong shifted his perspective and suddenly felt the urge to laugh—

It wasn’t that the boy didn’t want to sit, but that he *couldn’t*.

Gu Qiuyan had tossed her schoolbag onto her own chair, creating a natural trench that kept the two of them at a distance.

The boy had no choice but to pretend he didn’t see it and carry on with his one-sided conversation.

Zhang Shutong ignored them and looked toward the front of the class. Lu Qinglian was already seated ramrod straight at her desk. She always arrived earlier than everyone else. She had to walk a mountain path to get to school every day, and her home was far away, so she must have to wake up extremely early.

’Is six o’clock even early enough? And how does she eat, living on a mountain? Does she cook for herself, or buy something on the way to school?’

A string of questions popped into his head. He thought for a moment and decided that none of those scenarios felt right. It had to be something else—

Doesn’t Lu Qinglian have a grandmother? An old woman with only one precious granddaughter must dote on her endlessly. Pairs of interdependent grandmothers and granddaughters like that were a common trope in TV shows, manga, and all sorts of other stories.

He guessed her grandmother must wake up early to cook for her and then wait for Lu Qinglian to get up and eat. In the faint morning mist, the old woman and the young girl would sit under the temple eaves, watching the condensation bead on the green roof tiles as they held their bowls and sipped porridge... It painted a very heartwarming picture.

The thought of Lu Qinglian having such a mundane, down-to-earth side to her life at the temple made even Zhang Shutong smile. He thought that sounded nice.

He glanced at the girl herself. She sat there quietly in her ordinary school uniform jacket, a high ponytail trailing down her back. Still, none of it could conceal her unworldly aura. A textbook was propped up in front of her face, and her lips moved slightly as she read, as if nothing at all had happened last night.

’It was as if she were projecting an aura that said: "Even though I displayed my awesome power and took out an armed thug yesterday, that doesn’t stop me from studying hard this morning."’ Zhang Shutong felt humbled. Not even a magical girl could compare.

After glancing around at a few people, he decided not to rush back to his seat. He had something else to do. He walked over to the class bookshelf and rummaged through his own things, but he still couldn’t find Lu Qinglian’s history notes.

’I feel kinda guilty for some reason. She loves studying so much, and I went and lost her notes. That’s really not cool.’

When he got back to his seat, he was about to tell the boy to move aside and maybe try hitting on the young miss some other time, but their conversation drifted into his ears:

"I just want to tell you..."

"Don’t just ignore this..."

"I really saw it at the time..."

The boy kept his voice low, but Gu Qiuyan wasn’t listening in the slightest. At first, she was organizing her bag, occasionally offering a dismissive "uh-huh." Then she pulled out a textbook and started her morning reading, ceasing all movement.

Finally, she put down her textbook, frowned, and said bluntly:

"Are you finished?"

"I..."

"I need to study now."

This time, she didn’t use any of her usual verbal tics. Each sentence was curt and clean, like a small, sharp silver knife slicing straight through a stick of butter.

The stick of butter walked away awkwardly. He didn’t even put up as much of a fight as Du Kang, who at least knew how to struggle a little.

’Seeing this,’ Zhang Shutong thought, ’my days are going to be nice and quiet from now on. My deskmate and the girl sitting diagonally in front of me are both quiet girls. And there’s nothing better than quiet.’

He watched the boy leave and pulled out his chair. Knowing the young miss was in a bad mood, he decided not to even say hello. But just as he was about to sit, Gu Qiuyan—the very same girl who had just declared "I need to study"—suddenly slammed her textbook down and glared at him. *Again*.

Zhang Shutong was baffled. ’Why are you glaring at me? Go glare at that Zhou-what’s-his-name.’

’Could it be about the nickname? Looks like that really did a number on Mianmian.’

Zhang Shutong couldn’t fathom what was going on in her head, but he figured saying hello couldn’t hurt.

"’Morn—’"

Zhang Shutong had barely opened his mouth before Gu Qiuyan cut him off. That small silver knife of a voice had now become a pair of scissors, snapping shut.

"It’s not ’morning’ at all! What took you so long?!"

"’Slow?’"

"’Didn’t I see you at the school gate a minute ago?’"

The girl resentfully lifted her bag to clear his seat, demanding accusingly,

"’If you’d gotten here sooner, I wouldn’t have had to listen to him drone on and on!’"