Chapter 38 Chapter 38 Zhang Hejing's Ascension to Power

Zhou Biao pinched He Songfeng's arm with one hand, circled his waist with the other, and deliberately put his head against He Songfeng, taking a deep breath.

Zhou Biao frowned.

"Why do you smell like this?"

He Songfeng had long been marinated by the antipyretic and cold medicines. The bitter taste of the Chinese patent medicine melted into his blood and was squeezed out from the pores of his skin along with sweat.

Every inch of He Songfeng's skin carried that pungent smell.

"He Songfeng, do you recognize who I am?"

Zhou Biao held He Songfeng in his arms and shook him, but He Songfeng didn't move except for frowning.

He fell limply into Zhou Biao's arms, motionless, even his breathing was light and his eyelids drooped weakly.

His eyes drooped and drooped, and he suddenly remembered that he had to go to class and couldn't sleep, so he tried hard to keep his eyelids open, but before he could keep his eyes open for even a second, he fell down again in a daze.

He Songfeng's body and life were falling.

Like a weak dodder, it relies on parasitism on men to barely breathe and survive.

He is not able to take care of himself.

"He Songfeng? He Songfeng?"

Zhou Biao moved closer and called He Songfeng's name. The moment he realized that He Songfeng was a puppet at the mercy of others, his facial features suddenly relaxed and he laughed with a creepy creaking sound.

He Songfeng's world began to spin.

Being carried by someone, He Songfeng could only open his eyes a little bit, and he didn't understand where he was going or what he was doing.

But he did not resist. He curled up lazily in the arms of the stranger, greedily absorbing the warm warmth in the man's arms.

Zhou Biao took He Songfeng into the nearest bathroom, took out a "Repairs Here" sign from the innermost cubicle, and placed it outside the door.

Then he strolled back to He Songfeng leisurely.

He Songfeng sat on the marble sink with his legs crossed. The temperature here was too cold for He Songfeng, and he urgently needed some warmth to warm himself.

So the moment Zhou Biao approached, he pounced on him like a little insect attracted to the light, and actively pressed his thin chest against the other person, and his arms were already wrapped around his shoulders without the other person's control.

The beating of his heart almost jumped into Zhou Biao's body through the thin skin and flesh.

The man's hot palm slipped into the hem of his clothes, as nimble as a loach.

He Songfeng gasped for breath as he was touched. He gently pushed the man's body with his palm on his shoulder and said weakly, "I'm sick..."

After saying that, He Songfeng lowered his hands to the man's arms and held them tightly, like a drowning man holding onto a hemp rope on the shore, pinning his entire life on the two hemp ropes.

"Can you take care of me? I'm not feeling well..."

He Songfeng raised his head actively, his cervical vertebrae seemed to be non-existent, and his head drooped deeply backward.

His body fell weakly towards the man, and he followed the man's gaze closely with confused and fragile eyes. His burning red lips trembled helplessly, and saliva flowed out from the corners of his mouth like tears.

He Songfeng mistook Zhou Biao for Cheng Yiliao.

Because Cheng Yiliao lost his temper yesterday and blamed He Songfeng for not letting him take care of the child.

So when He Songfeng needed care today, he began to learn to act coquettishly and ask for warm care.

"It's so cold..."

He Songfeng's voice was soft, and his movements were full of attachment. She wished she could stuff herself into the man's belly and become a loveless child wrapped in an embryo.

Faced with He Songfeng's show of weakness, Zhou Biao felt an unprecedented sense of abuse.

He wanted to destroy He Songfeng completely, without leaving any residue. He not only wanted to eat He Songfeng up, but also wanted to torture He Songfeng to the point of having a high fever that wouldn't go away, and destroy He Songfeng to the point of turning him into a fool.

In this way, He Songfeng will always be warm and soft and stick to people to make love.

"It won't be cold when you do it."

“…………”

He Songfeng's expression was frozen, and his soft facial features were unable to control his gaze to focus.

But he had realized something, and his expression immediately fell, and his tone returned to his usual lifeless state, and he pleaded softly:

"Please be gentle with me, I'm sick."

She no longer acted like a spoiled child, nor did she ask for love from the other party, let alone ask for help.

He Songfeng quietly let the other person take off his clothes. The other person was very anxious. With a casual flick of his fingers, he quickly unbuttoned his shirt and pinched the collar with his palm and pushed it back.

He Songfeng's upper body was thrown into the other party's hands without reservation.

He Songfeng's body was so hot from the fever that his organs were about to melt. If his palm stayed on his skin for more than two seconds, the temperature difference between the inside and the outside would cause his skin to twitch uncontrollably.

Obviously nothing happened, but He Songfeng looked as if he had been tossed around for several rounds, and he looked tired and dazed.

His eyes drooped lifelessly, saliva dripped from his mouth without anyone wiping it away, his breathing became increasingly difficult, and through his nose he hummed with difficulty, some sounds that sounded like a coquettish or complaining sound.

But it was obvious that Zhou Biao was not interested in He Songfeng's upper body.

Soon He Songfeng's legs were lifted up, and his entire back was kissing the cold marble.

Taking off the pants was like skinning a fish on a chopping board. A knife chopped off the fish's head, cutting off its breath, and then the executioner grabbed the torn skin and cruelly pulled it away.

He Songfeng placed his hands on the edge of the marble, clasped them behind his back and gripped them tightly. His slender arms exuded uneasy fear, like a pair of hands sifting chaff, shaking off He Songfeng's frightened tears.

Despite this, He Songfeng still chose to be a dead fish at the mercy of others.

Before being killed, a live fish will jump and resist, but a dead fish will not do that, from beginning to end.

Zhou Biao held He Songfeng's calf and bent it. He Songfeng's collarbone was hit hard by his knee. The pain was so severe that he couldn't breathe and his face turned red.

"Hold it yourself." Zhou Biao gave a tentative order, trying to test He Songfeng's obedience.

He Songfeng hugged himself tightly.

If he were awake at this moment and turned around, he would probably find that he was no different from the row of urinals next to the men's restroom.

It was next to the wall, open, and allowed men to approach.

There was a sound of someone unbuckling a belt in front of me, and the man's body temperature came closer.

He Songfeng closed his eyes, his face showing a dead and nonchalant look, but his hands, which were clasped around his legs, were actually about to pinch his flesh.

If you encounter this situation, no matter how sick or faint you are, you will wake up.

From the moment his clothes were taken off, He Songfeng understood what was happening.

He was dragged into the men's restroom, placed on a sink, and was about to be violated as if it were a urinal.

Should I refuse him? Should I fall out of the pool and scramble out? Should I scream for help?

Is it - is it not right to indulge in such silent and docile way?

At this moment, He Songfeng could even feel the man's body temperature against his flesh.

Strong, sour and bitter gastric juice surged up He Songfeng's throat. He felt nauseous and his chest twitched. He pinched his tongue together to force the retching out of his mouth.

The hand pinching the leg had turned it completely purple and red.

But - He Songfeng is sick.

Just thinking consumed all his energy, and he soon fell into a semi-comatose state of confusion.

The scene before him was a blur. He forgot whether the man had finally violated him.

His last memory of the incident was the sound of the stone hitting the hollow iron ball.

Ding dong, ding dong.

—————

After a burst of severe tinnitus, He Songfeng suddenly opened his eyes.

The dizzying darkness gradually regained color.

A very familiar scene.

Bottles and jars hanging from the ceiling, drops of medicine injected into the body through syringes, light blue ceiling, sky blue curtains, and the cool air from the air conditioner buzzing past the ears.

This is the school hospital.

Unlike last time, He Songfeng was no longer lying alone, there was a man sitting beside the bed.

Zhang Hejing was wearing a clean white shirt and exuded a thick woody scent.

He held a book in his hand, and with his fingers of just the right thickness, he pinched the corner of the page and turned it slowly from right to left.

Although he tried his best to suppress the sound, his thumb inevitably made a slight rustling sound when it touched the book.

From time to time, he would use his knuckles to push up the frame of his glasses, and his clean eyes would scan every line of words in front of him with purity.

Zhang Hejing was so engrossed in reading that he didn't even realize that He Songfeng had been staring at him for quite a while.

He Songfeng habitually wanted to move to the edge of the bed and sit down, but when he pressed his hands on the bed sheet to support his body, a corner of the book was immediately handed over, pressed against his shoulders, and forcefully pushed He Songfeng back into the bed.

He Songfeng opened his eyes, looking at Zhang Hejing in confusion, and asked bluntly, "Am I not being fucked?"

Zhang Hejing tapped He Songfeng's lips with the book in his hand, signaling him not to talk nonsense.

"no."

"Oh..." He Songfeng's reaction was indifferent. Whether they had sex or not, He Songfeng didn't care much.

Zhang Hejing put down the book and asked, "Why didn't you reject him?"

He Songfeng stared at him until Zhang Hejing looked away first, then he suddenly said, "...boring."

"What?" Zhang Hejing didn't understand what he meant.

"It's meaningless. It's pointless."

As he spoke, He Songfeng's hands once again quietly clenched the quilt, causing his wrists to tremble and his palms to become swollen with blood.

"This body is just a carrier of your sexual desires. It doesn't belong to me."

Zhang Hejing took out a folder from her handbag, which contained the application materials and forms for studying abroad.

"Do you think so when you go abroad?"

As he said this, he placed these things next to He Songfeng's pillow.

"Even if they don't know what happened to you, and no one has a preconceived notion that you're just a random bitch, do you still think that way? Do you do that?"

“…………”

Under Zhang Hejing's penetrating gaze, He Songfeng slowly lowered his head and shook it left and right.

He Songfeng was not such a person originally.

If the mess he had with Zhao Jieyi had not been known by these men, he would never be in this state of self-abandonment and exhaustion now.

Zhang Hejing sat back down on the bedside and carefully lifted up He Songfeng's left hand where the needle was being injected. "He Songfeng, be kind to yourself. You'll be able to start a new life soon."

He Songfeng's fingers trembled, "Right away?"

"Right away." Zhang Hejing kissed her fingertips lightly.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. I did this for you voluntarily."

Zhang Hejing looked at He Songfeng gently with a restrained look.

He Songfeng's hair was much longer than when they first met. It was a mess because of his illness, and it was blown out like a feather duster. There were also a few barely noticeable white hairs mixed in.

Zhang Hejing stood up and went out, but soon came back with an exquisite comb in her hand.

He helped He Songfeng sit up, separated a strand of frizzy hair, and gently inserted the comb into He Songfeng's hair. While combing downwards, he explained: "I borrowed it from a classmate who passed by."

He Songfeng was still the type who would not refuse, so he obeyed quietly.

"Mind if I comb your hair?"

He Songfeng shook his head, and when he shook his head, the hair that was resting on Zhang Hejing's palm fell off.

Zhang Hejing's movements were gentle and slow, and she was not in a hurry to enjoy the moment alone with He Songfeng.

When other people saw He Songfeng, they would want to get close to him and eat him up, but Zhang Hejing always kept a certain distance from He Songfeng.

Most of the time he followed silently behind, and a small part of the time he was polite and kept a distance with He Songfeng like this.

"He Songfeng, Cheng Qiyong is not a good person."

He Songfeng nodded, his hair sliding down again, "I know, Cheng Yiliao said so."

Zhang Hejing shook his head and told He Songfeng something he didn't know.

"The video leak on the forum was done by Cheng Qiyong. I checked the poster's gateway address and his gateway address..."

As He Songfeng listened expressionlessly, Zhang Hejing said four words in a decisive tone:

“Exactly the same.”

"He has the means to suppress public opinion, so he deliberately forced you to submit to him, and he succeeded. But even without investigating, it's clear that he has the greatest vested interests in this matter, and he is the most likely person to have done this."

Zhang Hejing paused in her hair-combing routine and said something that sent chills down He Songfeng's spine: "He's terrible at using any means necessary to do things. I'm sure he'll use this matter of going abroad to embarrass you later."

He Songfeng still had an expressionless face, but his eyes were restlessly excited. His lowered hands were tightly gripping the bed sheet, so that the medicine in the syringe could not be injected, and a full tube of blood flowed back into the transparent infusion tube.

"And Cheng Yiliao, he's told me more than once that he's just playing around with you. He's always been a playboy, timid, and afraid to take responsibility, so he wouldn't be your best choice."

While speaking, Zhang Hejing inserted his hand between He Songfeng's fingers, with a smile on his face, but used forceful movements to pry apart He Songfeng's excited movements.

"Zhao Jieyi is in prison. He won't be able to contact you for a long time. You can rest assured."

Zhang Hejing patted He Songfeng's wrist, signaling him to relax.

"And Zhou Biao... I will deal with Zhou Biao directly. He is not worthy of being close to you."

He Songfeng looked at Zhang Hejing in silence, not knowing what to say for a moment, so he just said "hmm" in a depressed tone and said nothing more.

Because He Songfeng didn't completely trust Zhang Hejing, he just didn't dislike him as much anymore.

Zhang Hejing put the comb aside, took out He Songfeng's hand that was receiving the injection, and squeezed it flat firmly to ensure that the medicine could flow smoothly into He Songfeng's body.

During this time, he leaned over and helped He Songfeng adjust the flow rate of the drip.

"Are you thirsty?"

He Songfeng nodded.

Zhang Hejing stood up and poured a cup of hot water for He Songfeng. Taking the opportunity, he moved closer to He Songfeng and handed the cup to him.

The performance before was so affectionate and restrained, but this time I couldn't help but reveal a corner of it.

"Thank you."

He Songfeng gently blew on the surface of the water cup, and the hot steam blew into Zhang Hejing's glasses, covering them with a layer of white mist.

The fog pushed out and pushed Zhang Hejing away to sit down without leaving a trace.

Zhang Hejing sat with He Songfeng for a while, and the two of them were silent.

The water-blue ripples flowed back into the eyes, the smell of disinfectant penetrated the nostrils, and the palms and backs of the hands held by the two people exchanged body temperature.

Next to the pillow were the documents related to He Songfeng's trip abroad, and stacked with books that Zhang Hejing had read.

The cool wind ruffled the strands of hair on Zhang Hejing's forehead, leaving them scattered on his forehead.

He Songfeng thought about it, raised his hand, and swept it away gently.

He Songfeng's fingertips were colder than the wind, almost penetrating into the skin on his forehead, penetrating his skull, and taking root in his cerebral cortex.

Whether she opened her eyes or closed them, she felt the extreme excitement that was aroused by He Songfeng's touch.

Zhang Hejing is very good at acting. He remained calm, but suddenly a sour remark came out of his throat:

"You're going to hate them forever."

He Songfeng smiled lightly.

Zhang Hejing was so amused that he decided to reveal his true intentions.

He cleared his throat, and it was his turn to clench his fists and grip the blankets, tightening his throat as he whispered requests, pleadings, even prayers:

"He Songfeng, can I be a mistress now? I'm more... more normal than them."

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The author has something to say: Xiao Zhang's confession is not to say that you have to like me, but that you have to hate them [glasses][glasses]