"An auntie." Xiao Li recalled, "She said she still had to go see her nephew and had something going on at home, so she left when the ambulance arrived."
"But why would an average person go to the suburbs?" Zhang Shutong instinctively questioned.
"You, student, an average person wouldn't ride a motorcycle onto a boat either," Xiao Li chuckled, "It's not my business why she was there, I'm only responsible for safely getting the person to the hospital."
Just then, the phone rang. Zhang Shutong thought it was his mom calling back, but it was Du Kang. He answered the phone, and the other party said anxiously:
"Shutong, it seems like Teacher Song was in a car accident. I'm rushing to the hospital now. Are you nearby?"
"Wait, how did you know?" Zhang Shutong was surprised.
"My aunt came to visit me on the island this afternoon. She took the bus to the island. She gets carsick, so she got off halfway and walked a few steps, and happened to see a car accident and even helped call an ambulance.
"Just now, my aunt was chatting with my dad and said it was a man, and the crash was pretty bad, the front of the car was almost gone. And you know, after lunch, Teacher Song went out, and he hasn't been answering his phone, so I got suspicious and asked what kind of car it was. She said it was a small red car, and when I thought about it, wasn't that Teacher Song!"
So it was Du Kang's aunt who, by a strange coincidence, saved Teacher Song's life.
Zhang Shutong explained the whole story to him, including how he was getting an IV at the hospital, how he ran into Teacher Song, and how he followed the ambulance onto the boat.
"Alright then, wait for me in the city, I'm coming now."
"You guys are coming too?"
"No, I'm not with Ruoping and Qingyi. Her dad took us home this afternoon, and we all went our separate ways. I think Ruoping is with Lu, and if they came out at this time, they definitely wouldn't make the boat back to the island. Besides, she'll just cry again if she finds out. Didn't you say Teacher Song is fine? Then let's just tell her after he's stable.
"As for Qingyi," Du Kang paused and said seriously, "Shutong, although I've never figured out what you've been busy with, it must be something big. I'm not as quick-witted as you and Qingyi. I haven't been able to help much lately. So I think we should let Qingyi stay. He has a lot of ideas, and in case something happens, he can help you. As for me, I'll go to the city to be with Teacher Song. I'll contact you guys if anything happens. If I can't help my buddies, at least I can't be a burden, right?"
Zhang Shutong subconsciously wanted to say, "How much more help do you want to give? You helped me catch Li Yipeng, you rode your bike to the villa to test the nanny, and finally, you caught Zhou's father with me on the rooftop."
But he then thought that these were all things that had disappeared.
Now the other party felt a little embarrassed, feeling that he hadn't been of much help.
"You've already helped a lot." Zhang Shutong was silent for a moment, "Don't overthink it."
Du Kang chuckled:
"Then you take good care of Teacher Song. I'll wait for the next boat. It's to the People's Hospital, right? I'm hanging up now..."
Zhang Shutong put away his phone and looked at the instrument at the head of the bed. The screen was showing colorful lines jumping. He didn't understand the specific meaning behind these electric waves, but he knew that them jumping and moving was better than them becoming a straight line.
Zhang Shutong looked at the man on the sickbed again, intending to say a few words to him, but found that the other party couldn't hear anything he said.
Zhang Shutong really wanted to mock him, "How could you, a long-time experienced driver, drive your car into a tree? Someone who just learned to drive like me wouldn't make such a mistake."
But the man who was still saying "This is nothing, I'm much better at causing trouble than you" at noon, now had his eyes closed.
How did you end up lying here?
Zhang Shutong still couldn't accept it.
He had never thought that Teacher Song would be like this one day.
The other party could remain single, live a sloppy life, but be as lush as the reeds on the lake shore.
He could have slicked-back hair and gold-rimmed glasses eight years later, looking like an elite.
He could also continue to drive that Ford Focus around, with a Bulbasaur on the car's center console that belonged only to him.
Zhang Shutong still didn't understand what he had been up to all these years. Teacher Song understood himself, but he had never understood Teacher Song.
Until he was completely unable to cause trouble anymore.
Zhang Shutong also remembered his analogy of the shepherd dog and the sheep. At first, he thought that being compared to a shepherd dog was an indirect way of calling himself a dog, but wasn't the man himself also like that? His parents were in a foreign land, his lover had passed away, he taught alone on the small island, had no friends, and little social life. His biggest expense was treating his few best friends to a meal, his biggest entertainment was watching a game in his dorm, and the most familiar things to him were the clutch and gear shift in his car.
In fact, this man was more like a real stray dog.
Zhang Shutong didn't understand what he was searching for, or why he chose this kind of self-exiled life. But there were some things you didn't say or ask before, and when you wanted to say them, it was already too late.
Nurse Xiao Li suddenly jumped up, and Zhang Shutong's heart skipped a beat. He saw the other party pointing at the display screen:
"Oh no, the heart rate is dropping again!" He looked at the lake outside and said with an ugly expression, "It will take at least another half an hour to get to the hospital, and that's not even considering traffic. It's Saturday today, and it's not snowing in the city, and the People's Hospital is in the city center..."
At this point, he sighed, "It all depends on his will to live. You have to be mentally prepared."
Zhang Shutong silently nodded.
By the time the ferry finally docked, he was already on his motorcycle. It had been eight years since Zhang Shutong had been to the city. Although he remembered many landmarks, he couldn't say he knew his way around.
He squeezed the brake, and with his other hand, he deliberately twisted the throttle. The engine roared, and the people around looked sideways, but this was the effect he wanted. The crowd automatically made a path for him. No one dared to stop a young man on a motorcycle at this age, let alone one without a helmet and with a terrifyingly cold expression.
Almost the moment the gangway was lowered, his finger loosened, and the motorcycle shot out like an arrow. Zhang Shutong drove the motorcycle in a straight line.
He was very clear about his current duty, which was to clear the way ahead. He and the ambulance quickly drove into the city. As expected, it was a bit congested.
The sky was already dark. In the steel forest of tall buildings, car shadows flowed like a river, and lights were intertwined like a tapestry. Halos of light of all sizes overlapped in front of his eyes, a colorful and blurry scene. It was difficult for the ambulance's emergency siren to clear a path. He had long expected this situation. He rode his bike through the gaps between the cars, one by one, going to the windows and waving to the drivers.
He swung his arms and shouted loudly. Some people noticed the ambulance behind them and made way. Some lowered their windows and cursed at him for rushing to be reincarnated: "What the hell are you rushing for? Can't you see there's a car in front? His life or death is none of my business!"
And there were even some who didn't lower their windows at all, or even turn their heads.
But even so, he still cleared a path for the ambulance.
He didn't know if he could gain a few minutes or more than ten minutes. This was all Zhang Shutong could do for his teacher.
By the time he finally arrived at the hospital, his face had lost all sensation. Zhang Shutong propped up the bike and turned to run to the front of the ambulance. Fortunately, the hospital on the island had contacted this one in advance. Several medical staff were already waiting at the entrance.
Xiao Li motioned for everyone to lift the stretcher. Zhang Shutong followed them, running all the way into the hospital's outpatient building. He looked at the bustling lobby, feeling a bit lost for a moment. This place was countless times bigger than the hospital on the island, with bright lights and was as spacious as an office building in a commercial district. It had been too long since Zhang Shutong had been here, and the elevator was full. He hurried to find the stairs, taking three steps at a time, and climbed breathlessly to the third floor.
In fact, Xiao Li told him there was no need to rush. As long as Teacher Song safely arrived at the hospital, he could at least save half a life. As for the other half, of course, it was up to fate. But Zhang Shutong had to see him enter the operating room to feel at ease. The metal door of the operating room closed again, and the green light above it turned red. Next was the battlefield of the city hospital's doctors and nurses. Xiao Li was free for a change and told him to go to the front desk to get a cup of hot water and sit down to catch his breath.
"It's only five-forty. It's thanks to you riding your bike. Otherwise, it would have been hard to get here by six. Your teacher's condition was very bad in the second half of the journey. If it had been delayed until then, it would have been hard to say."
Xiao Li finally breathed a sigh of relief:
"I'll go call the director to report first. Oh right, I remember you were getting a shot in the corridor, right? Fever or cold? Sit down and rest for a bit. There's no use rushing over your teacher's side..."
Zhang Shutong didn't reply. He put his phone back in his pocket.
"I have to go. This is my parents' number," he recited a string of numbers. "When they arrive, please hand over the situation to them."
"Wait, you're leaving just like that? At least see your parents first, right?"
"Otherwise, I won't make the boat." Zhang Shutong patted his face hard, "The last boat is at six."
"Since your parents are in the city, you won't have to worry about a place to stay, right?" Xiao Li said in surprise. "Staying in a nearby hotel for a night would be fine. Besides, he'll probably be out in two hours and you won't even have to wait until night. Aren't you very worried about your teacher's safety?"
"I have to go back." Zhang Shutong had already started walking. "Thank you very much for today—"
"It's not about thanking me or not. Your face is all pale. Are you really going to ride back like this? What kind of hero are you trying to be, student?"
The questions in his ears had already become distant. Zhang Shutong didn't have time to wait for the elevator. He ran to the stairwell again and took one last look at the operating room.
This isn't about being a hero.
It's about not letting go when you still have the ability to hold on to something.
Otherwise, you'll regret it.
These were words the man had once said to himself.
Zhang Shutong retracted his gaze, ran down the stairs in a hurry, put on his helmet and gloves, and twisted the throttle again. As he turned out of the hospital compound, he happened to see a black SUV. He recognized it as his family's car, but he didn't have the time to wave to his parents. They probably wouldn't guess that he had already left. He brushed past the car and threw himself back into the city traffic.
In just over ten minutes, the traffic here had become even more congested. His body was starting to feel cold again. He hadn't closed his eyes since noon. Zhang Shutong gritted his teeth and tried his best to crouch low, as if doing so would reduce the amount of cold wind his body was subjected to.
There was a tunnel ahead, and a long line of cars had formed. When he was clearing the way earlier, he had even deliberately memorized the surrounding roads. A little memory was reviving in his mind. Zhang Shutong remembered which places a car couldn't get through but a motorcycle could.
He didn't let go of the throttle, maneuvering the bike under him through one gap after another. He was calculating the time. There were nine minutes left until the boat departed.
The speed had long exceeded the speed limit. He looked at the road ahead with no expression. In fact, his mind was a little numb, but an inner voice told him to keep running without stopping. He really was a wild dog...
Zhang Shutong turned into a park, his wheels lifted and jumped onto the steps. Even he was amazed by his own skill.
Eight minutes left.
Next was a pedestrian street, where young, fashionable men and women were strolling, disturbed by the roar of the motorcycle. Zhang Shutong rode halfway down the long street and found a garbage truck blocking the way ahead.
He slapped his thigh. As expected, taking a shortcut comes with its own troubles.
He didn't know why this truck was collecting trash at this time, or rather, collecting trash from the entire street, stopping every few steps. He took out his phone and looked at it again. Du Kang asked him how Teacher Song was. He replied with a voice message and then patiently waited for half a minute before resolutely turning the bike around.
Six minutes left.
Now every minute and every second had to be fought for.
He had already planned a new route in his mind. He rode out of the pedestrian street and turned into a narrow road. Even though Zhang Shutong wasn't a believer in fate, at this moment he hoped his luck wouldn't be so bad. The small road was dark, and he sped along it silently. Fortunately, there were no potholes or accidents. The light of a street lamp gradually appeared in front of him. He no longer deliberately held back his speed, twisting the throttle to the maximum. The tail of the bike suddenly swerved, and he turned onto a paved road—
This was also the last road leading to the ferry terminal.
The road finally became wide. The trees and street lamps were intertwined, flying by quickly. The tachometer was close to the red line. When the port finally appeared in front of him, he suddenly froze, because the sound of a whistle was already ringing in his ears.
Zhang Shutong was forced to squeeze the brake and almost fell.
It was now five fifty-five. He had already set aside five minutes for himself, but he was still too late.
He had miscalculated one thing, or rather, he had overestimated the staff's dedication. It was cold today, so they were a little lazy and started a little earlier than the departure time on the schedule, so they could get off work earlier.
The wide hull of the ferry had already slowly left the shore.
Now he was about ten meters from the shore, and the ferry's gangway had been retracted and had just moved half a meter away.
He knew this number would continue to grow, becoming one meter, two meters, three meters... until he could no longer catch up.
He didn't say anything, silently pressed the clutch, and then filled the throttle again. The tires scratched the ground, and white smoke came out.
Some people had already noticed his actions:
"Hey, you on the motorcycle, what are you trying to do—"
He stared ahead, praying that his dad's taste in cars was accurate. This was the car used to take his mom for a ride. They were loving and romantic, and they must have done all kinds of cool and difficult maneuvers with it before.
So, it must be possible, right?
The distance between the deck and the shore had already widened to one meter. And there was a height difference between the deck and the ground. The ground was high, the deck was low.
All things considered, it was only the second day that Zhang Shutong had gotten his hands on this motorcycle. Even including previous times, the total was no more than a handful. He knew there was a term called "launch start," where you release the clutch to the optimal engagement point while twisting the throttle to the maximum, so the bike could unleash its extreme speed.
But he had never tried this maneuver before and only had a vague concept of the so-called optimal engagement point.
Two days ago, he learned to drive on a snowy night. Someone told him he was extremely talented and was born to drive.
He just smiled and let that pass at the time. The operation of a motorcycle and a car were, of course, different, but if he hadn't succeeded that time, he might not have dared to try.
The passengers on the ferry opposite also noticed his actions. People took out their phones and subconsciously made a path. Countless gazes were focused on him. They were whispering, pointing, and discussing. There were also staff on the shore who started running towards him, about to stop him.
All kinds of people came into view, and the noisy sounds were again isolated by the helmet.
Through the goggles, Zhang Shutong pressed his body as low as he could. The engine roared, already at the end of its strength; dust flew, and the smell of burnt tires rushed into his nostrils. Then, he suddenly released the clutch, finding that optimal engagement point by feeling. The next moment, the motorcycle started, so fast it left a blur. It drove off the road, drawing an arc in mid-air—
The ground, the lake surface, and after a brief moment of weightlessness, he had ridden the bike into the ferry.
The tires landed, the shock absorbers compressed to the extreme, and then bounced back violently. The bike didn't stop until it was halfway across the deck. The tires made a teeth-grinding sound on the deck. His body uncontrollably leaned to one side, and he barely managed to support himself with his hands and knees.
The crowd around him scattered in a panic. In his peripheral vision, he could see the staff running over to question him, looking furious.
It was now five fifty-six.
He finally made the last ferry...
But there was no relief or joy in Zhang Shutong's heart, only a deep sense of fatigue.