Chapter 77 Do you want to be slapped?
The young master wants you to take care of him?
Cong Chun could agree, but if it were back at his previous home, he would have to help his grandmother take care of a few chickens after school, since the pigs had already been slaughtered and there was nothing left to do, as well as the vegetables in the garden.
Although Cong Chun has to go to school and can't take care of it, and its growth is not good, it still needs to be managed.
Now I have time to take care of the young master.
Cong Chun went into the bathroom to wash up and go to bed.
Duan Mingxiao, in a playful mood, knocked on the bathroom door. The young master's expression was ferocious, like a mischievous devil.
[Chun Chun should be made to experience the wickedness of human nature.]
[I'll rush in as soon as he opens the door for me (indescribable)]
The next second, Duan Mingxiao cleared his throat and spoke gently to Cong Chun, who was washing her face in the bathroom.
“Congchun, Congchun.”
"Open the door quickly!"
Cong Chun paused slightly, holding the washcloth, and stared at the blurry, tall figure at the bathroom door for a few seconds.
I almost thought I was hallucinating.
Is the young master crazy? Should I do something about him?
Previously, the pigs at home were disobedient and would root around the stones, pushing them into the pigpen. My grandmother would then whip the pigs with ropes made of hemp straw.
When Cong Chun saw the pig flap its ears, it obediently stopped digging at the stone.
Should I slap the young master?
Cong Chun lowered his eyes and called out softly to the people outside.
Do you want to get whipped?
The boy outside seemed surprised that Cong Chun would say that.
After all, Duan Mingxiao had no idea what Cong Chun was thinking, because every word the other party said was unexpected.
However, as soon as Cong Chun said this, the strange noises outside the bathroom immediately disappeared.
Duan Mingxiao calmed down a bit and stopped speaking in a high-pitched voice, only adding a sentence quietly.
"Come out quickly and play with me."
"Nobody talks to me. I'm so bored, you know that?"
The next day, at the SV training ground.
In this year's Chinese motorsport scene, only three Chinese individuals secured a spot in the World Championship.
Apart from Duan Mingxiao, who qualified by winning the championship, the other two drivers earned their spots by accumulating 50 points.
A driver's teammate is essentially carried by the team, giving them the qualification to enter world-class competitions.
Chinese people started entering motorsports competitions late, so the training system is not perfect. In addition, the threshold is high, so the quality of domestic competitions is far inferior to that of foreign ones.
That's why the other drivers in the SV team often joked that Duan Mingxiao was just lucky.
There weren't any top-level competitors in the country to begin with, and this kid's physical abilities were superior to the average person, which is why he won the championship.
In reality, Zhao Ying and Liu Kuo always brought their girlfriends and relatives to visit the team, and they didn't take training seriously.
It's unbelievable that children were playing hide-and-seek at a proper and serious training facility like the SV team's training ground, all brought in by the so-called family members of the athletes.
Furthermore, because motorsports started late in China, the competition standards and the physical fitness of the drivers are simply not on the same level as those abroad.
However, it is still in the initial stage and there is always a development process. Zhao Ying looks down on the domestic competition rules on the one hand, and blames his failure entirely on the unreasonable competition system.
Today, the team owner, Sesh, also came to the scene. He was dressed in the typical elite style, wearing a dark suit, with dark brown curly hair, and looked elegant.
"Knox, I have something I want to tell you."
After the two talked for a while in the office, Duan Mingxiao's expression became somewhat strange.
Because Cyclone was planning to disband the team, SV team had been operating at a loss for the past few years. Even though they produced a champion, they did not accept advertisements or receive brand sponsorships.
Sesh looked at the handsome young man in front of him, a hint of admiration in his eyes.
"Knox, you deserve a better place."
Duan Mingxiao's reaction was surprisingly calm.
Sai Xiuyan chain-smoked, puffing out clouds of smoke. The man looked somewhat sorrowful, while Duan Mingxiao frowned slightly.
Without a team, it's impossible to participate in world competitions as an individual.
Even though he was the champion, in the eyes of foreign players, the championship held in China was not strong enough and was just a slacker tournament.
This is why Chinese people are rarely seen in world motorsport events.
The sudden news of the disbandment of the racing team caught everyone off guard. The news that the SV team would disband in three days became a sensational story in the racing community.
Duan Mingxiao became a completely "wandering" driver.
Today, Cong Chun plans to borrow some books from Yenching University's library to read.
Cong Chun stood beside the bookshelf, and finally the boy's gentle gaze fell on a beginner's piano sheet music.
He raised his hand, and the soft sunlight shone on him. Cong Chun slowly took down the book and hugged it to his chest.
Cong Chun carried the book, borrowed it, and left the library together.
A man walked towards us.
Lu Tinglan was in a hurry, and the man wore unusually high-bridged nose with gold-rimmed glasses, as if he had something important to do.
Cong Chun hesitated for a moment but still called out to him. He smiled and subconsciously greeted the person.
Lu Tinglan stopped in his tracks. He looked at Cong Chun with some surprise, and then a warm smile slowly appeared on the man's face.
He was holding a notification of the results of a competition.
Lu Tinglan calmly flipped the notification of the competition results over, leaving the blank side facing Cong Chun.
The next second, the man suddenly felt his heart rate getting faster, almost like he was about to have palpitations, and he couldn't breathe.
Upon seeing this, Cong Chun immediately stepped forward and supported Lu Tinglan's shoulder.
He paused for a moment, then silently leaned on Cong Chun's shoulder.
His thin, frail shoulders were his only support during this moment of illness.
Cong Chun's eyes showed a hint of worry, and she held the book in her arms with some unease.
"What's wrong? Do you need to see a doctor?"
Lu Tinglan spoke weakly, her face several shades paler.
"It's okay, just let me... lean on you."
The next second, before Cong Chun could react...
The man collapsed to the ground. Lu Tinglan had a relapse; he lay on the ground, convulsing unconsciously.
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
