Chapter 362 - 159: The Watcher’s Solitude (Part 2)

Chapter 362: Chapter 159: The Watcher’s Solitude (Part 2)

He had met the two men separately during the poaching case and the shopping street case. They were the two highest-ranking officers at the station.

The moment they saw him, they broke into enthusiastic smiles. The brawny one even rubbed his hands together in anticipation:

"You’re here! What took you so long? What case have you got for us this time?"

Zhang Shutong popped a second bubble.

「A short while later, in the office.」

"Xiaozhang, is there any gift you’d like? I mentioned it to your Teacher Song before—you can pick out whatever you want. Don’t be shy with us," Officer Wang said with a wide grin. "Think of it as a gift from us at the island’s police station."

"Gifts are just superficial. This young man is simply too modest." Officer Xiong’s bell-like eyes widened. "Even though there’s no resolution on the avalanche incident yet, we can’t let a great kid like him feel unappreciated! Wang, have someone arrange for a commendatory banner. Get it sent to the school tomorrow, and we’ll hold a special flag-raising ceremony to praise him properly!"

"The flag-raising ceremony is on Mondays," Zhang Shutong said. He was sitting at the side of the conference table, too embarrassed to keep blowing bubbles. He glanced at the clock on the wall and finally found an opportunity to cut in. "Actually, I’m here on official business..."

"Oh!?"

’Whoa, two burly men saying "Oh~?" in unison is just plain weird...’

He spent ten minutes at the police station.

Regarding his first question—who built the dormitory—it wasn’t technically police business, but the two officers enthusiastically took it on, promising they’d ask around for him.

As for his second question about the death of Lu Qinglian’s mother, there were no records.

The officers explained that matters concerning the temple were usually handled internally by the women there. Zhang Shutong had anticipated that answer.

He also told them about the figure on the rooftop, officially filing a report.

As he walked back to the dormitory, Zhang Shutong saw a Land Rover pull up to the building.

Song didn’t have a car anymore, and there was no way he could drag his ailing body and a pile of luggage to the port. This had all been arranged back at the hot pot restaurant; Gu Qiuyan had taken care of everything. Her family’s driver would take Song all the way to the station.

Zhang Shutong was just about to head upstairs when his phone suddenly rang. He answered it, and Song’s serious voice came through the receiver:

"Shutong, what a coincidence. You just finished asking me if anything was out of the ordinary, and now something is."

He lowered his voice.

"I think my room’s been emptied out."

’Oh, how terrifying,’ Zhang Shutong thought. ’My dear mentor’s IQ seems to be in a freefall. This is a disaster.’ He tiptoed up the stairs, raised a hand to pat the shoulder of Song, who was hiding outside his door—then thought better of it.

Zhang Shutong regretfully withdrew his hand, realizing the man wasn’t very brave after all.

It was hard to believe this was the same man who’d spent years driving out in the middle of the night to find people.

"Did you and Qinglian pack all this for me?" A few minutes later, Song was surveying the room, clicking his tongue in amazement. "And you two still say there’s nothing going on between you."

’Hold on. How are those two things related at all?’

With a sigh, Zhang Shutong helped him with the bags. Song then asked:

"Why don’t I see Qinglian?"

"She should be here by now. She must have gotten delayed."

"Should we go meet her?"

"She’s coming by bike."

"When did Qinglian get a bike?" Song asked in surprise.

"It’s mine." Zhang Shutong tried to blow a bubble, but it was just chewing gum, and his attempt ended in failure with a POP.

Before they left, Song checked his luggage one more time, then belatedly pointed at the bed and asked:

"Why is it propped up like that?"

"It would get dusty sitting right on the floor," Zhang Shutong said after a moment’s thought.

"You’re a thoughtful kid. Not bad. Keep it up," Song said, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. "But I have been wondering... what have you kids been up to while I was in the hospital? You asked me several times if I heard any noises from downstairs. I kept thinking, ’But no one lives downstairs.’ Did you find something? Also, your teacher won’t be able to drive you around anymore. If there’s really something you need to tell me before I go, just spit it out. Don’t worry about it being a bother..."

"Lu Qinglian’s back," Zhang Shutong said, pointing toward the door.

"Oh, oh..."

They didn’t have to worry about the logistics of taking a car to the port and then coming back for the bike, because the driver simply opened the Land Rover’s trunk and easily tossed the bicycle inside.

The three of them got into the car. It was a bit of a drive to the port, and Song’s mouth was never idle. He spent the entire ride giving Qinglian and Shutong various instructions. Zhang Shutong occasionally glanced out the window at the scenery. The light was bleak, and he noticed there were no clouds in the sky.

A little after two in the afternoon, the car arrived at the port.

Song’s ferry ticket was for four p.m. Only then did Zhang Shutong realize Song had left himself almost no time to catch his breath; his mother’s surgery was scheduled for the very next afternoon.

That long talk with all those students in the library had nearly drained all of his energy.

The ferries leaving the island ran every twenty minutes, and they had arrived at just the right moment. There was hardly any time to linger; their reunion was immediately followed by farewell.

Zhang Shutong pushed open the car door.

The man named Song Nanshan had once been an excellent driver, but now he sat strapped into the passenger seat.

Song turned in the passenger seat, trying to clap him on the shoulder as he always had, but he struggled. Zhang Shutong had to lean in closer.

"You two should keep in touch..."

But before he could finish, he glanced at Lu Qinglian and changed his tune.

"Your teacher might just come roaring back next semester anyway! It’s only two months, all told. Why the long faces? Alright, alright, get back to your classes. Be careful on the way back. A man shouldn’t be so sentimental. I’m off!"

Zhang Shutong was a little puzzled as to why Song was smiling so brightly at their parting.

The ferry’s horn sounded.