Winter Time Rendering

No matter how delicious others found them, Zhang Shutong had always disagreed:

He’d always found this type of filling strange. It should be either savory or sweet, so why did it have to be both?

It was like how sweet tofu pudding and savory tofu pudding were both acceptable, but what on earth was sweet *and* savory tofu pudding?

If he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, he would’ve thought these buns were some kind of made-up "dark cuisine." But in reality, they did exist, and they were right in front of him:

Right then, the woman was wrapping the buns. Beside her was a large basin full of filling—sweet lard mixed with savory egg yolk. The golden-yellow mixture, flecked with translucent chunks of meat, was being wrapped into the dough skin.

Those things should have been so contradictory.

The sight made Zhang Shutong feel queasy, but Gu Qiuyan was watching intently, not even noticing when he approached. He remembered someone at lunch saying she liked sweet and sour pork—another contradictory dish, in his opinion.

Perhaps it had something to do with Gu Qiuyan herself being a contradictory girl—

Her brightness, her coldness, her nonchalance—if you hadn’t seen it for yourself, you’d never imagine all of it could be fused into a single person.

That was why Zhang Shutong said he didn’t understand her.

But understanding her or not didn’t stop him from walking over to say hello. Gu Qiuyan glanced at him and nodded in response.

’So aloof.’

"Thanks for what you did at lunch. I’ll bring the money tomorrow."

"Don’t worry about it," Gu Qiuyan said emotionlessly, her eyes fixed on the deep fryer. "You helped me first. I don’t like being indebted to people."

Her expressionless face was different from Lu Qinglian’s. Lu Qinglian truly had no emotional fluctuations, whereas you could clearly tell Gu Qiuyan was just putting on a cold face.

’Is this what they call *tsundere*?’

’She’d asked me that one question on the stairs, and I thought that would be the end of it, but she actually remembered it all this time.’

Zhang Shutong changed the subject:

"Did you tell your dad about that incident?"

"No, he’s on a business trip." Gu Qiuyan’s tone grew even colder.

But Zhang Shutong could tell it wasn’t directed at him. It seemed... the relationship between this father and daughter wasn’t as good as he’d imagined.

But the key thing was:

"So you’re all alone these days?"

He paused for a moment.

"The housekeeper is here too."

Zhang Shutong subconsciously wanted to ask about her mother, but a few suspicions suddenly formed in his mind, so he just said:

"Well, be extra careful lately."

"That person wouldn’t dare do anything," Gu Qiuyan said, enunciating each word. "Besides, I already told you, it was just a toy."

"So you’re not mad?"

Just then, her bun came out of the steamer. It was placed in a plastic bag and handed to her. Gu Qiuyan had a unique way of eating it; instead of holding the bun itself, she grabbed the "ears" of the plastic bag, pulled them apart, and squeezed the bun up toward her mouth.

She took a bite but burned herself. Cupping it in her hands, she blew on it a few times before carefully tearing off a small piece with her teeth.

"Of course I’m mad." The bun seemed to be really hot; she sucked in a sharp breath as she chewed, her voice barely able to maintain its usual coldness. "But we spent all afternoon looking and couldn’t find it, right?"

"Maybe tomorrow..."

"Since we can’t find it," she said, either not hearing him or deliberately ignoring him. She swallowed her food, and her voice, now calm, became crisp. "It’s better not to think about it. That way, I can be a little happier."

The girl said this, but there was no hint of happiness in her demeanor.

It reminded Zhang Shutong of when he’d run into her on the way to school, and her dad had told her to be happy. Only now did he feel the deeper meaning in that phrase. Other parents would at most say things like ’study hard,’ ’listen to the teacher,’ or ’don’t cause any trouble.’ Who tells their kid to ’be happy’?

’So, let’s all talk about something lighter, like matters of life and death, instead of how someone’s feeling.’

"Why haven’t you gone home yet?"

This was the question he was most concerned about. Gu Qiuyan was always chauffeured to and from school, so her commute should have been very safe. Why was she here all by herself today?

"A little hungry," she said without looking up.

But this also showed she wasn’t truly "aloof." Based on Zhang Shutong’s own experience, a genuinely cold person would have probably said they were shopping, waiting for someone, or even "What’s it to you?" They wouldn’t explain their own state.

This was more like someone deliberately shortening their usual, more talkative speech patterns.

’Looks like she’s still in a bad mood.’

But there was nothing Zhang Shutong could do. The young miss was surrounded by capable people who couldn’t even make her crack a smile all afternoon, leaving her with that same icy expression. What could he, Zhang Shutong, possibly do?

He could only nod and agree:

"Well, having a good appetite is a good thing."

Unexpectedly, Gu Qiuyan froze and stopped chewing her bun.

The girl looked at him for the first time.

It was an eye-roll.

"Why do you only ever say the most ridiculous things...?" she muttered. "Did you come all this way just to tick me off?"

"I’m just saying, you all just had a huge meal for lunch, and you’re already hungry again. Doesn’t that mean..."

"I barely ate a few bites," Gu Qiuyan interrupted, frowning unhappily. "And what about you? How come you aren’t stuck to your friends like glue?"

"Something urgent came up."

"What kind of urgent business?"

"It’s a secret."

"Tch."

By now, the bun Zhang Shutong had ordered was ready. This kind of snack was always an eat-as-you-go affair: as long as you weren’t getting it to-go, the owner would just grab you another one from the steamer every time you finished, right up until you paid the bill.

Having learned from Gu Qiuyan’s painful lesson, Zhang Shutong wasn’t in a hurry to eat. He just held the bun to his lips, sniffing the aroma of the leavened dough.

He glanced sideways at Gu Qiuyan. Like him, she was also holding the bun up to her face, staring at either the bun or the road ahead—he couldn’t tell which. It didn’t stop her mouth from moving nonstop, though.

"I thought you were in a really bad mood today."

"I am."

"Didn’t you just say you didn’t care?"

"There are degrees to it. Even if it’s something unimportant, it’s still *your* something. Who wouldn’t care if something of theirs was destroyed?"