Chapter 4: Emotions Worsening
My thoughts froze for a moment, my mind felt frozen, and I had no thoughts at all.
But in fact it exists, it is not obvious and cannot be felt.
Fang Ke opened the gum box, tilted his head back, and poured a gum into his mouth like pouring wine.
He didn't know what it felt like. It was the same feeling as what that person had given him, but it made him even more irritated.
Chewing gum is like chewing a tire, tasteless.
It’s better to smoke.
Before he could chew it twice and the taste of the orange had spread throughout his mouth, Fang Ke spat it out, then fell on the sofa, and with slightly trembling hands, he took out a cigarette from the cigarette box that was scattered everywhere.
The flip-top lighter emitted a bluish flame.
The diffused smoke cannot cover up the rotten life.
But nicotine can paralyze the nerves, and he can just close his eyes and pretend not to see the mess.
Besides... the house was actually tidy, someone had come to clean it. But Fang Ke knew that the surface cleanliness would not last long, and in a few days it would become a mess again, like a ball of yarn that was tied in a knot and could not be untied, making people so annoyed that they wanted to take a pair of scissors and cut it.
The comfort that cigarettes bring him is also temporary. The time for his redemption will only become less and less, but he will become more and more dependent on them. The addiction to smoking that he cannot quit is like a demon that follows him everywhere, haunting him and making him look as embarrassed as he did when he was dizzy on the street just now.
The words of the man who seduced him lingered in his ears like a charm.
"Don't you ever feel moved? Fang Ke, you should find a partner."
He should find a partner, a partner that is more effective than cigarettes.
After finishing a cigarette, Fang Ke threw a whole box of chewing gum into the trash can prepared by the housekeeping lady, then leaned on the sofa to play with his mobile phone.
He entered the Death Target interface and edited the announcement: Looking for a partner. Requirements: ...
He kicked his legs on the sofa in frustration.
I don’t know how to describe the feeling of that person, nothing comes to mind.
He was so annoyed that he threw his new phone against the wall.
Good. Fuck.
It broke again.
An unreleased announcement, an elusive antidote, an uncontrollable life, and a meaningless escape.
Each and every incident spoke of Fang Ke's incompetence.
Even if you escape from that home, you cannot escape the shackles of blood ties.
I had the courage to run away from home at the age of fourteen and go to a remote city alone, forcing my way into a weird game for excitement, but I didn't have the courage to actually kill myself.
He opened a shabby bar and lived a half-dead life, fantasizing about someone who could give him a sense of security. He treated daydreams as paroxetine and prayed for the day when he could stop living a life of drunkenness and dreams.
Fang Ke tossed and turned, occasionally hitting the sofa and the wall with his hands, tugging at the curtains, and like a stressed cat, he stood up with every thorn on his body to scare the imaginary enemy that did not exist in the air.
Hateful and pitiful.
He didn't know how long he tossed and turned, but he finally fell asleep after being exhausted.
But, it was already dawn.
Today is Friday. I didn't ask for leave and didn't go to class. In this cold weather with a blizzard still falling, I didn't cover myself with a blanket. I just curled up and fell asleep like a stray cat, feeling self-abuse.
Shivering.
At 10:05, Shen Cinian walked into Class 14 with books and lesson plans.
I saw at a glance that Fang Ke's seat was empty.
Very good. He is indeed the boss of the troublesome class. Even home visits are of no use.
Shen Cinian's eyes unconsciously turned cold, but it was only a little bit colder. This coldness only came from a stranger's ignorance, nothing else.
Fang Ke's skipping school again had limited impact on Shen Cinian's mood. He spread out the book, turned to the page he was about to talk about, and spoke with his voice still as gentle as before.
"Strange dungeons are divided into various types, including role-playing, rule-based, and puzzle-solving. If you're unfortunate enough to be chosen by the system and want to survive, remember the following points..."
Most of the students were originally daydreaming or doing their own things, but when they heard that Shen Cinian didn't talk about those drowsy things and directly talked about the key points of saving life, they stopped what they were doing.
Someone was already a player and picked up a red pen to record, but couldn't find the book.
Some people crossed their legs, thinking they would not be selected and did not care at all.
Shen Cinian just turned around calmly and wrote down the corresponding page numbers and keywords on the blackboard.
Wang Le was sitting in the first row, taking notes.
When the bell rang, the page numbers and corresponding key points were neatly arranged on the blackboard.
He walked down from the podium and was about to return to his office when he was suddenly stopped.
Wang Le held the book in his arms, a red pen in his hand, and asked timidly, "Teacher, can I ask you a question?"
Shen Ci Nian turned around and leaned against the door frame, looking at Wang Le casually, and said softly: "Okay."
Wang Le stared at the wrinkles on his shirt. There was a pair of exquisite cufflinks on the cuffs of his burgundy Lan-style shirt. Shen Ci Nian looked so noble that he seemed like one of the top aristocrats in the upper class of Lan Country.
His voice trembled unconsciously. "Can...can I go to your office and ask?"
As if he was afraid that Shen Ci Nian would disagree, he quickly added: “It’s too noisy here, I’m afraid I can’t hear clearly.”
Shen Cinian did not refuse, but just nodded and walked ahead.
Wang Le followed him, sometimes taking two quick steps for fear of falling too far behind, sometimes slowing down for fear of getting too close.
"Student Wang," Shen Cinian suddenly stopped. As expected, Wang Le bumped into his back. He suddenly smiled, but the smile did not reach his eyes, and there was a hint of coldness. "Can't you walk? I'll teach you how to walk."
"I'm...I'm sorry!" Wang Le lowered his head, and Shen Qinian clearly saw the slightly red tips of his ears.
Humans, indeed, are quite interesting. Just as interesting as the believer he tortured to death and then threw into the cycle of reincarnation.
Come to think of it, it has been hundreds of years. What is that little believer who betrayed him doing now?
Shen Cinian walked into the empty office, pulled out a chair and sat down, with the front of the chair not facing the desk, but facing Wang Le.
"Ask your questions."
Wang Le looked at his high-quality trousers and his crossed hands with distinct joints, and he almost couldn't help but kneel down.
Such a strong aura, as if he were some superior being who has been in charge of life and death for a long time.
"Do you... do you have a partner..."
"This is the question you asked me after following me all the way with the book in your arms."
…
At half past twelve, Fang Ke was sleeping with his face flushed.
No, his face wasn't red from sleeping, he was sick. The consequence of not covering himself with a blanket was that he had a high fever, a splitting headache, and lost consciousness.
The lights were still on. Shen Cinian opened the car door and looked at the dim light on the third floor in silence.
He carried the box up to the third floor. The box was small and placed in a paper bag. Inside was a telephone watch.
This would save Fang Ke from always not answering the phone, forcing him to come to his house again and again.
He casually dismissed Wang Le's question. He had no classes in the afternoon, and before he had even had lunch, Director Wang urged him to come over and check on Fang Ke.
I'm in a slightly bad mood.
After knocking on the door, I heard the sound of something being thrown inside.
It's even worse.
Fang Keshao was confused and walked in a daze. He staggered like a drunk and knocked over the furniture that blocked his way.
He actually vaguely knew who was outside. After all, no one else would come to his door at this time except that person.
And that person came to his door simply because he was his class teacher.
Why can't it be another reason...why...
Fang Ke opened the heavy iron door - it didn't feel heavy before, but now he was so tired that his hands were numb from the heat.
The door opened, and the first thing Shen Cinian saw was Fang Ke's red forehead, cheeks, neck, and nails that had turned dark purple.
Fever, high fever. Shen Cinian's rich experience allowed him to judge Fang Ke's condition at a glance.
I didn’t ask for leave and didn’t attend classes, but this time I was really sick.
Out of a teacher's sense of responsibility, Shen Cinian picked him up with one hand, closed the door with the other, and carried Fang Ke into his bedroom.
Fang Ke was very quiet. When Shen Cinian hugged him, his hands subconsciously grabbed Shen Cinian's shirt, leaving a beautiful crease.
Even when Shen Cinian bent down and put him on the bed, he still held on to Shen Cinian's clothes.
He was taken care of.
However, it was the teacher who took care of him, which was not what he wanted.
He grabbed Chen Cinian's clothes, his mind was filled with impulses, his Adam's apple rolled as he wanted to say something, but he gave up because of the sore throat caused by the cold.
He loosened his shirt and Shen Ci Nian stood up.
He found the medicine that had been put away in the drawer under the coffee table, poured a cup of warm water, and fed it to the sick student.
Shen Cinian looked towards the kitchen, intending to make two bowls of porridge for lunch.
I walked around and found nothing.
Very good, this house is very nice, it doesn’t even have a kitchen.
The fridge was also very good, it was full of beer and soda, not a single ingredient.
With a dark face, Shen Cinian downloaded the food delivery app, found the nearest porridge shop, and ordered two bowls of stomach-nourishing millet porridge.
While waiting for the porridge to arrive, Shen Cinian went downstairs to buy a soft new towel and a bottle of medical alcohol.
He dipped the towel in alcohol and used it to wipe Fang Ke's hands and feet to cool them down.
When cooling people down, there was no heartache in Shen Chinian's eyes, only indifference and a hint of suppressed anger.
Forget it, it’s not worth getting angry. Those deep eyes quickly returned to calm.
It's not his little believer, just a student he taught for only a few months.
Fang Ke should be thankful that he is not a weird player, let alone one of his men.
Otherwise, he would have used alcohol to wipe not the soles of his hands and feet, but his belt.
The porridge arrived soon. Fang Ke leaned over and ate the bland millet porridge on the bedside table.
He didn't like it, he really didn't like it, but he still ate it bite by bite, like a devout believer obeying the order of the Lord God, and he forced himself to finish the porridge.
Shen Cinian touched his forehead and confirmed that his fever was subsiding, then took out a watch with a phone number stored on it and put it on Fang Ke's left hand.
He turned and left, his tone flat as he left: "I've taken out your phone card and put it on the coffee table. You can drop your phone, but it's best not to drop your watch, otherwise..."
Fang Ke moved slightly.
"I'd be worried if I couldn't get through to you."
The sound of a door closing was heard, and Fang Ke's fists clenched loudly.
What on earth was he expecting? It was just his teacher. What else could he expect?
I'm so annoyed. I really want to throw my watch away.
He had already untied the strap around his left wrist, but suddenly buckled it back on, tightening it one notch too many, as if he were trying to strangle his hand.
The leather watch strap, pure black, is like a pair of leather handcuffs. The tighter it is, the more reassuring it makes people feel.
It was like putting a lock on the devil in his heart, controlling his left hand so that it would not throw things, destroy things or make any noise.
So Fang Ke picked it up with his left hand, then switched to his right hand and threw the cup he had just drunk water from.
He was still sick, but the man was gone.
That person had done his best as his class teacher, but he wanted to get angry at that person for no reason.
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