"Merry Christmas!"
He looked in the direction of the window. Even though the night wasn't deep yet, the curtains were drawn tight; looking from outside, it must be pitch-black.
Turning his head around, a key that should have been taken away was hanging properly on the hook at the entryway.
In a flash, Zhang Shutong understood everything.
Turns out it really was a prank, but this prank was much larger than imagined. From start to finish, who knew how many people were involved, while his side had only one—fighting a lonely battle, not to be blamed even if losing. Zhang Shutong originally wanted to say so, but he couldn't utter joking words now.
"You guys really are bored enough," he said softly.
"Hey, hey, a surprise! Don't be too moved." Du Kang came over to put his arm around his neck.
"Doesn't a certain someone run around outside out of boredom too, only returning now? Only bored people and bored people can be good friends ah." Ruoping pushed him from behind.
Zhang Shutong didn't know how he took off his coat or how he sat onto the sofa. By the time he snapped back to reality, a glass of warm water was placed by his hand, while he was left alone again in the empty living room.
The remaining four people squeezed in the kitchen, the range hood whirring, as if they ran to his house late at night merely to borrow the kitchen. Yet the only one inside who could cook was Ruoping, who issued orders right now:
"Du Kang, green onions! Qingyi, garlic!"
The level of the two of them could only serve as helpers. As early as when he walked in the door, Gu Qiumian had suddenly stamped her foot, saying she was going to check the oven, and then trotted into the kitchen, vanishing from sight.
Zhang Shutong had been unable to catch her figure the whole time.
Turns out every one of them prepared to make a specialty dish tonight. Du Kang was the first to come out, slapping a dish of cold smashed cucumbers onto the table:
"Brother, recovered yet?"
"A surprise of this caliber is more like it for a birthday. How long have you guys been home?"
"About half an hour. Let me tell you, today was exhausting enough: after school we had to stuff paper slips everywhere, and then rush home to prep vegetables, haven't even had time to drink a gulp of water."
Zhang Shutong let out a long sigh, saying I was exhausted enough too, running everywhere since school dismissal—or rather, who wasn't busy? But why were they this busy? The two looked at each other, and Zhang Shutong suddenly said with a smile:
"How do you have the nerve to bring that out?"
Qingyi, coming out of the kitchen, showed a rare expression of embarrassment:
"I'm really not very good at cooking."
The plate in his hand contained six ham sausages fried to a golden yellow. Calling them lavish had nothing to do with lavishness; calling them shabby, he happened to fry one extra.
Mix of cold cucumbers and fried ham sausages—Zhang Shutong really suspected whether four dishes could be gathered tonight.
"Though how did you guys think of eating at home?" he asked in confusion again.
Qingyi explained:
"Because the plan was to wait for you at home, but waiting for you to get home and then going outside to find a restaurant would seem very unnecessary, so we decided to eat at home. Besides, Auntie bought the groceries in advance."
"Bought the vegetables in advance..." Zhang Shutong muttered. "Turns out preparations were made so thoroughly."
"Actually it slowly turned out like this too," Qingyi smiled. "At the very beginning, it was just discussing what present to prepare for you, and no one thought of celebrating Christmas together. So guess who proposed this matter first?"
"You, or Ruoping?"
"Wrong answer." Qingyi raised his eyebrows. "It was Gu Qiumian."
Zhang Shutong was truly a bit surprised.
He originally thought Gu Qiumian was dragged over, because the original arrangement was eating lunch with best friends and treating her separately at night, but why did she actively break these arrangements again?
"We men are just like this," Qingyi said while plating the ham sausages. "There are only two things we can't refuse: thrill and romance."
Zhang Shutong subconsciously looked in the direction of the kitchen.
When Ruoping came out of the kitchen, she saw the guys squeezing on the sofa watching TV, every one of them dangling a ham sausage in their mouths. Qingyi held the remote control changing channels; when Du Kang saw a satisfying spot, he would nod, the ham sausage swinging up and down along with it; Qingyi would purse his lips, the ham sausage moving left and right horizontally; only Zhang Shutong looked like he was puffing a cigar, zoning out alone.
"Ahem."
She cleared her throat.
The three turned their heads.
"All exhausted?" She covered her mouth and chuckled softly.
The three shook their heads.
"Not exhausted, then why watch TV?" Ruoping smiled grimly. "Du Kang, Meng Qingyi, you two go bring out the dishes. Zhang Shutong, you have a share in tonight's dishes too, hurry up and help."
"Can I boil eggs?" Zhang Shutong had unique attainments in boiled eggs.
"Don't ask me, ask Qiumian. Go act as her assistant."
With that, she sat on the sofa beautifully, crossing her legs. The TV was playing Crayon Shin-chan, which Qingyi had spent a long time finding.
"Hurry up and go! Don't tell me you're shy?"
She waved her hand carelessly.
...
"Mayonnaise."
A clean, white hand extended before Zhang Shutong.
He gave an "oh," unscrewed the bottle cap, and placed it into that hand.
Gu Qiumian wasn't a good hand at cooking, yet was a good hand at ordering people around. When cooking, she never pulled out needed items to set them properly, but rather kindly let them stay in place to sleep. As the saying goes, kindness to others is cruelty to oneself, so before long she was running in circles with busyness.
"White vinegar."
Zhang Shutong handed the white vinegar over again, watching Gu Qiumian cut off the four crusts of the baked bread.
"So wasteful." Although Zhang Shutong knew she was making sandwiches, he couldn't help saying so.
"Mmh..."
Following that, a strip of bread crust was stuffed into Zhang Shutong's mouth.
The kitchen light was dim. Gu Qiumian was focused on cutting bread on the cutting board. Although it was winter, it was very hot inside, and her sideburns were messy.
The range hood was turned off, leaving only the small pot for boiling eggs bubbling away. Both lowered their eyelids without speaking, doing only necessary communication: one said what was needed, the other picked up what was said.
Quite a tacit understanding, Zhang Shutong thought to himself. He had said he would make boiled eggs, and Gu Qiumian clapped her hands, saying she'd make an egg sandwich, digging out the long-unused toaster.
The kitchen was small to begin with. Timing it properly, when the eggs were almost done boiling, Zhang Shutong scooped them out and soaked them in cold water to cool down. The two stood side by side, division of labor considered clear.
"Give me the egg whites first."
"Is it necessary to be this troublesome? Why can't the eggs be chopped up directly?"
"Chopped that way looks too ugly."
Zhang Shutong nodded. Eggs rolled on the cutting board, leaving only the sound of eggshells cracking for a time. He placed the peeled egg whites into Gu Qiumian's palm.
Gu Qiumian, however, patted his hand back, saying without raising her head:
"Told you to put them in the glass bowl. Is it dirty or not?"
Zhang Shutong looked at her hand, thinking to himself that when you chop later, you'll use hands too; what was the essential difference:
"Then why did you reach out your hand?"
"I wanted the spoon!"
"Here, here," he surrendered.
Gu Qiumian chopped the eggs into tiny pieces, her technique quite brisk.
Then she mixed all the ingredients together, and fresh egg salad was born.
Gu Qiumian used her pinky to dip a little, tasting it with her lips.
Zhang Shutong thought to himself, this isn't dirty anymore?
"Is there sugar?"
"Yes." He felt the posture of a Michelin executive chef was nothing more than this.
Seasoned properly, it came to a temporary close at last. Gu Qiumian began using a spoon to spread egg salad onto the bread, only to feel halfway through that the spoon wasn't easy to use, wanting to find a butter knife.
Zhang Shutong went in a flurry to look for a butter knife again. Just as he handed the knife over, who knew she said again:
"You do some work too. Making me do everything alone."
Am I not working yet? Zhang Shutong thought a beat late.
He picked up a slice of bread as well, but just as he spread it halfway, the head chef spoke again:
"Aiya, you spread it too thick! I'll demonstrate for you."
Gu Qiumian said as she scooped a bit of sauce with the tip of the knife, then spread it evenly on the bread slice, asking him if he learned it. Zhang Shutong nodded, and Gu Qiumian extended both hands indicating for him to take it over.
Zhang Shutong wanted to take back the sentence about them having quite a tacit understanding.
What Gu Qiumian handed over was the butter knife, yet he thought it was that slice of bread spread halfway. Therefore, the knife handle extended before him, yet Zhang Shutong held Gu Qiumian's other hand pinching the bread.
The two were stunned for a moment, raising their heads simultaneously.
Their gazes met once again in the dimly lit kitchen under the night sky. On the distant celestial bodies outside the window were thousands of stars, while inside the girl's eyes was hidden the brightest lamp.
Zhang Shutong moved his hand away, taking over that butter knife.
"Learned it long ago," Zhang Shutong muttered. "This kind of small matter doesn't even need looking at, saying it once is enough."
"Then why didn't you speak?" Gu Qiumian muttered as well. "I thought it went too far."
"Didn't go too far." Zhang Shutong looked at that slice of bread in her hand. "I like eating it a bit burnt."
"Don't play dumb." She wrinkled her nose.
"Saying thank you, you'd feel it's sappy again."
"Who said so? Say it, I'm listening."
"Thank you," Zhang Shutong said flatly. "Clearly not free at noon, yet suddenly squeezing out time at night. Truly moving."
"Why do you keep annoying me?" Gu Qiumian glared. "Where was I wrong? Wasn't it just not free, wasn't it just having other arrangements? Who's going with you to eat din—"
She suddenly said suspiciously:
"What expression did you have just now?"
"Mimicking your glare." Zhang Shutong hurriedly blinked his eyes.
Gu Qiumian immediately turned unhappy, stomping hard on his foot.
Zhang Shutong hurriedly dodged, saying he didn't dare anymore, yet Gu Qiumian insisted on stepping on him a few times before feeling happy.
While talking, they finished making the sandwiches. She turned around with complete satisfaction:
"Help me untie the apron. My hands are dirty."
Zhang Shutong looked at her swan-like long neck, actually wanting to dip some water to ice her a bit.
...
Christmas Day of 2012 was destined to be an unforgettable day.
On this day, they gathered together for dinner: a dish of cinnamon pie, a dish of egg sandwiches, green pepper shredded pork, tomato fried eggs, a dish of cold smashed cucumbers, and three fried ham sausages.
Nothing was more hodgepodge than this, which was why it was unforgettable.
On this day, they drank a bit of alcohol—Mom's hidden collection—sipping lightly, merely celebrating.
They lit up that small Christmas tree in the house and walked out the door together.
On this day, many streetlamps burned on the streets of the island. When passing the commercial street, colorful lights shone inside. Someone played guitar on the road—tourists from outside the island. Just as some people specifically ran outside the island to spend a lively Christmas, people from outside came inside the island seeking a special kind of tranquility.
Only after walking over a dozen meters away did the singing voice slowly vanish behind their ears.
In front of the mall were banners for holiday events. Staff members disguised as Santa Claus distributed free gifts. Zhang Shutong went over to claim one—a delicately shaped candle.
Boys and girls walked in and out of the mall arm in arm, girls cradling a bouquet of flowers in their arms—freshly bought flowers, not an easy thing to find in winter.
Zhang Shutong and Qingyi walked at the very back, talking about some other matters.
"Actually, Lu Qinglian knows about tonight's matter too, right?" Zhang Shutong asked.
"Mm, pretty much knows our plan. Ruoping invited her at noon, but she didn't come." Qingyi asked curiously, "Did she say anything to you?"
"Who placed that bar of chocolate in my desk drawer?"
"I went. You happened to not be in your seat at that time."
No wonder she said "go home" in the end.
Zhang Shutong thought for a bit, saying nothing. He merely pulled out his phone, found a number, and sent a Merry Christmas over.
"You two hurry up!" Ruoping shouted ahead.
Unexpectedly, the mall tonight didn't light up too many lamps; that massive Christmas tree at the entrance stood pitch-black.
Gu Qiumian said it would only light up at eight o'clock sharp.
It was currently seven-forty, and people were already gathered under the tree.
The market at their entrance had stopped, holding many entertainment projects. Gu Qiumian's cheeks were flushed red, pointing loudly at a fluffy toy bear, saying she wanted that one. There were too many people around, to the extent that she shouted several times before Zhang Shutong heard clearly.
It was a whack-a-mole event.
Among the crowd, a few unfamiliar-yet-familiar classmates could be seen. Qingyi and Du Kang ran off to do ring toss; Ruoping had indeed made an appointment with her gal pal, leaving only him and Gu Qiumian looking left and right in place.
Zhang Shutong originally wanted to go queue up directly, because there were truly many people today, but she insisted on buying something to eat before going in. Shortly after, Gu Qiumian held a sugar painting—of course, she only looked without eating, disliking it as dirty:
"Pretty or not?"
She hummed.
This sugar painting was drawn by her personally—nothing more than adding a bit more money. They used money that could buy ten sugar paintings—obtaining an ugly sheep.
Even with sugar paintings she wanted the most unique one, and then after walking just a few steps, it fell to the ground and shattered.
Gu Qiumian's drunkenness cleared up by a few degrees.
Zhang Shutong mourned for the sheep on the ground.
"Class Monitor!" Someone waved from afar. "You came out to play too?"
Running into classmates wasn't a strange thing; Gu Qiumian greeted with a smile.
"This is..."
Zhang Shutong didn't know whether the other party recognized him or not—could be looking familiar, or naturally, didn't know him at all.
Gu Qiumian took a glance at him.
"Friend."
Zhang Shutong had no choice but to help her answer.
She gave a hum, saying nothing.
During this period, she encountered several acquaintances, merely giving a brief greeting or a nod. She was an eldest young lady; even squeezing in the crowd, she possessed a temperament that stood out. Calling it aloof to strangers wasn't accurate, but everyone would actively greet her without anyone daring to draw close.
"No way, go back!"
Autumn Rain Mianmian thought left and right, pointing firmly at the sugar painting stall.
Her being firm was nothing, but holding onto the lackey firmly without letting go was not good. Zhang Shutong dragged her with effort to queue up in front of the whack-a-mole stall.
Finally it was their turn. Zhang Shutong whacked a few times, breathed a sigh of relief, calmly withdrew his hand, luckily fulfilling his mission.
Just as he held the toy bear in his arms, Gu Qiumian set her eyes on a nesting doll—that was a stall using toy guns to shoot balloons.
"What else do you want?" Zhang Shutong put away the gun and asked.
"That one!"
"Okay... what else?"
"That one!"
"Wait a second, really can't hold any more..."
The manager of the mall somehow got wind of the news, calling Gu Qiumian on the phone while squeezing into the crowd from afar, giving Zhang Shutong a bit of breathing room.
Taking advantage of the time Gu Qiumian spoke with the other party, he squeezed over to Qingyi's side. Qingyi carried a cage containing a rabbit, asking Du Kang:
"What did you ring-toss it for?"
"Casual hand. How about keeping Zorro company?"
"This thing smells very bad."
"Forget it," Du Kang held the rabbit and muttered, "I'll ask the boss: return the rabbit to him, can he give us a few more rings..."
"Oh, Shutong." Qingyi turned his head. "Want to play bumper cars in a bit?"
"Okay." Just as Zhang Shutong nodded, his phone vibrated at this moment.
"Happy holidays."
Right at eight o'clock in the evening, Zhang Shutong turned his head back, and that massive Christmas tree lit up.