Zong Yuan glanced at Fu Dongqiang, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he walked Fu Xin back to the classroom.
Fu Xin suddenly realized that his earlier reaction had been overly emotional. He stammered an explanation, “I… I’m not like that.”
“Weren’t you brave just now?” Zong Yuan’s hand hung loosely on his shoulder as he pinched his earlobe, which was half-hidden under his hair. “What happened to that courage now?”
A tingling sensation surged through Fu Xin’s ear, making him instinctively flinch. “It tickles.”
As the crowd ahead began to swell, Zong Yuan withdrew his hand and shoved it into his pocket. “Your dad just said he came to work at the school.”
Fu Xin frowned. “Don’t mind him.” He raised Zong Yuan’s arm back to his shoulder, looking especially obedient, with a sweet arc in his smile that was pleasing to the heart. “I’m not tired.”
Zong Yuan raised an eyebrow. “Well, if you say you’re not tired…”
Fu Xin’s lips curled upward and the melancholy that had just plunged him into despair lifted in an instant. No matter what Fu Dongqiang intended to do, he had no desire to find out.
Before class that afternoon, Zhang Zhi’liang approached with a notebook in hand. It seemed he didn’t notice Zong Yuan sitting next to Fu Xin; instead, he politely addressed Fu Xin, “Fu Xin, your English isn’t very good. This is my notebook. It should help you.”
He extended the heavy, black-covered notebook with one hand. Fu Xin hesitated, as it had been a long time since he’d spoken with Zhang Zhi’liang. In fact, he realized he hadn’t thought of him in a while.
He glanced at Zong Yuan, who had a serious expression as he stared at the notebook in Zhang Zhi’liang’s hand. Seeing Zong Yuan interested, Fu Xin decisively refused, “No need.”
Zhang Zhi’liang didn’t expect the rejection and a brief look of stiffness crossed his face. His smile faded as he insisted, “What are you being so polite for?” He reached out to grasp Fu Xin’s hand, forcefully trying to thrust the notebook into his grasp. “Don’t be polite.”
Zong Yuan suddenly seized Zhang Zhi’liang’s wrist, ruthlessly pulling his hand back. Zhang Zhi’liang’s expression contorted in pain as he struggled violently. “Let go!”
Zong Yuan coldly released his grip on Zhang Zhi’liang’s wrist. “Get lost.”
Fu Xin cast a glance at Zong Yuan’s hand that had gripped Zhang Zhi’liang’s wrist, resisting the impulse to wash and wipe it clean.
Zhang Zhi’liang’s wrist had already swollen. In anger, he kicked Zong Yuan’s desk with force, a sharp surge of rage rising within him. “Zong Yuan, you’re going too far!”
With a loud crash, Zong Yuan’s desk was shoved aside.
The noisy classroom fell silent for a few seconds, then students began to quietly gather in groups around them.
Kicking a desk was a profound insult, no matter what age a man was.
Zong Yuan sat expressionless, staring at Zhang Zhi’liang for several seconds. The fierce, hostile glare made those caught in it involuntarily shiver. Zhang Zhi’liang’s heart skipped a beat, but his anger and jealousy obliterated his rationality. A fuse had ignited a raging fire and the surrounding gazes fueled his audacity. “What the hell are you looking at? Apologize!”
In a flash, Zong Yuan stood up. His face darkened, his imposing aura overwhelming, causing those around to instinctively take a few steps back, watching his every movement as they collectively inhaled sharply.
Zong Yuan dragged the metal chair across the floor, the harsh sound of it scraping sending chills through the crowd as he made his way toward Zhang Zhi’liang, step by step.
Zhang Zhi’liang swallowed hard, unable to believe he would dare to hit someone in public. “W-What are you going to do?”
The screeching sound of the metal chair against the floor was deafening. Zhang Zhi’liang’s face turned pale, cold sweat dripping down his brow as some students stumbled hurriedly to fetch a teacher.
Zong Yuan approached, the room holding its breath as he halted in front of Zhang Zhi’liang. In the next moment, he lifted the chair and swung it down hard toward Zhang Zhi’liang.
The chair slammed against the ground with a thunderous crash. Zong Yuan held tightly onto the quivering metal legs, watching as Zhang Zhi’liang stumbled back a step.
Zhang Zhi’liang, nearly struck, stared dazedly at the shaking chair, his legs feeling weak beneath him.
Holy crap, he really intends to smash it.
The onlookers around them held their breath, some wishing they could squeeze back into the crowd, their expressions complex and tinged with an unfamiliar fear as they watched Zong Yuan.
Zong Yuan smirked slightly and said softly, “Weren’t you pretty tough a moment ago? Why are you running?”
He dragged the chair a few steps closer to Zhang Zhi’liang, who was now nervously glancing toward the door. Zong Yuan casually followed his gaze. “The teacher isn’t here yet. You have just enough time to learn your lesson.”
“You can’t do this,” Zhang Zhi’liang forced himself to sound calm. “You’ll get expelled, go to jail, and I’ll sue you.”
Zong Yuan snorted derisively and tossed the chair aside, the loud clatter echoing in the air. “What you say is true.”
Zhang Zhi’liang had just started to breathe easier when Zong Yuan yanked him by the collar and dragged him toward the trash can.
His fair face, along with his neck, flushed a deep red. He stumbled as Zong Yuan pulled him in front of the trash can. Zong Yuan pressed his head down, forcing him to face the pile of disgusting leftover food.
“Oh my God.”
Voices murmured from the crowd. “This is too much.”
Zhang Zhi’liang’s face was only an inch away from the garbage, his expression one of utter humiliation as he tightly shut his eyes.
Is this too much?
Zong Yuan stared at him as if he were seeing Fu Xin from back then.
At that time, no one showed him any mercy. They would have shoved Fu Xin’s head straight into the trash and not a single person would have stepped forward to say, “You’re being too harsh.”
Zong Yuan grabbed Zhang Zhi’liang’s hair and squatted next to him, commanding, “Open your eyes.”
Zhang Zhi’liang’s eyelids trembled, unable to resist the fear bubbling within him, and he opened his eyes.
Zong Yuan’s voice was surprisingly gentle. “Are you scared?” he asked quietly. “Back then, did you think it was too much when you treated Fu Xin like this? When you laughed at him from the sidelines, did you still think it was excessive?”
Zhang Zhi’liang’s brow twitched.
Outside, a classmate shouted, “The teacher’s coming!”
Old Jiang and the grade supervisor hurried over. They looked around and, seeing no blood, breathed a sigh of relief. “Zong Yuan, let go.”
Zong Yuan raised a hand, gesturing for them to stay back. Old Jiang and the supervisor stopped in their tracks.
Zhang Zhi’liang shouted, “Teacher!”
He hoped the homeroom teacher and grade supervisor would pull Zong Yuan away, reprimanding him severely and expelling him. He wanted Zong Yuan to kneel and apologize at the assembly.
That wasn’t enough.
He would also find some people from the outside to teach him what it meant to wish he were dead.
Zhang Zhi’liang’s expression twisted, a mix of delight and hatred playing across his face. One second passed, then two, yet no one came to his aid.
He could only hear the two teachers behind him anxiously shouting, “Zong Yuan, don’t make this a big deal!”
“Hey, Zong Yuan, that’s enough!”
Zong Yuan watched the change in Zhang Zhi’liang’s expression with amusement and sneered, “Why aren’t you shouting anymore?”
He pressed Zhang Zhi’liang down a little more, causing Zhang Zhi’liang’s nose to nearly touch a yellowed apple that had been half-eaten, making his stomach churn.
Zong Yuan said, “I’ll ask you a question. If you answer it well, I might generously let you off the hook.”
Zhang Zhi’liang trembled, his lips quivering, but he didn’t speak.
Zong Yuan murmured to himself, “Come on, tell me, did you leave any other messages in the notebook you gave Fu Xin? Perhaps a vague note with some unclear phrases?”
Zhang Zhi’liang’s pupils constricted sharply as he incredulously retorted, “How do you know?”
0046 was infuriated. “Just as I thought!”
Originally, the events unfolded with Zhang Zhi’liang giving Fu Xin that notebook, which contained an ambiguous note that caused Fu Xin to plunge headlong into his abyss. Then, he treated Fu Xin like a speck of dust, indifferent as others bullied him.
Even when Fu Xin was beaten, Zhang Zhi’liang would put on a show of sorrow and guilt afterward, all while committing malicious acts with complete justification, treating it as mere leisure.
Zong Yuan tugged at his hair, causing Zhang Zhi’liang to lift his head in pain. Zong Yuan’s expression was inscrutable. “He said he didn’t want it, yet you insisted on pushing it onto him.”
He was fixated on Fu Xin.
His voice was low and Zhang Zhi’liang’s was equally quiet; no one knew what they were discussing. Fu Xin’s previously stoic expression changed as Zong Yuan leaned closer to Zhang Zhi’liang. “Zong Yuan…”
He took a few steps forward, but Yang Fan grabbed him. “Don’t go! What if Zong Yuan beats you up?”
Zong Yuan, however, slowly stood up, releasing Zhang Zhi’liang, who immediately crawled back a couple of steps.
Zong Yuan looked down at him. “Zhang Zhi’liang, we’re just joking, right?”
Zhang Zhi’liang bit his lip and nodded in humiliation.
Before the classmates could react, Old Jiang and the grade supervisor burst out laughing, seemingly oblivious to the others’ expressions. “It’s just a joke, come on! Next time, if something really happens, come call us!”
Zong Yuan walked toward Fu Xin, still carrying the lingering aggression. Yang Fan and the others instinctively stepped back, but Fu Xin ran toward Zong Yuan. “Are you okay?”
“What could possibly happen to me?” Zong Yuan replied as he picked up the notebook that had slipped from Zhang Zhi’liang’s hands in the chaos and easily found the note.
It clearly read, “Fu Xin, I’m Zhang Zhi’liang. I apologize for only coming to express my feelings for you now. You know how sad and guilty I felt when you were bullied before, but…”
The note continued with dense paragraphs of text.
0046 commented, “Wow, it seems to be even more detailed than what’s in the files.”
Zong Yuan looked up at Fu Xin, who was wiping his right hand gently and carefully with a damp piece of paper, his expression serious. His features were exceptionally attractive when he focused intently on a task.
Zong Yuan’s expression darkened as he figured out why Zhang Zhi’liang’s words had changed.
Suddenly, Zong Yuan’s hand gripped Fu Xin’s wrist tightly. Fu Xin looked over, puzzled and worried. Zong Yuan’s face betrayed no emotion. “You’re not allowed to accept anything from him in the future.”
Fu Xin understood who he was referring to and the statement sounded somewhat possessive. He smiled softly and contentedly, not asking any questions. “Okay.”
