Chapter 38

Next came the third gangster's business. Leyuan found a short black wooden bench for himself in the house and sat on the edge of the balcony. This position would not be seen by the people below. There was a curtain on the side, a gauze window and a glass window at the back, and some spare clothes and shoes in front. It was just enough to block him from going up or down, and it could also block part of the balcony and allow him to get some fresh air.

The wind outside is cool, but it is very hot today. The sun is shining brightly and the temperature is thirty-four.

The sunshine was bright, the clouds were white, the sky was blue, and at first glance it seemed fake. If you looked at it for too long, your eyes would get blurry. The scenery gradually turned darker, and it was getting hotter and hotter. A breeze blew over, ruffling his hair a little. It wasn't too much, and it wasn't very cold either. He shivered.

It seemed as if there was always a barrier between him and the world. Previously, that barrier was false, like a shadow following him. Sometimes he could sense it, and sometimes he couldn't. Later, the barrier became profound, and he would feel that thing blocking his way in the blink of an eye, as if he could not see anything.

When he was in a trance, he would feel that perhaps the barrier was just fog, and behind the fog was a wall.

He and the others had been different from the beginning, and were even more different now. In a word, there was a tragically thick barrier between them.

He didn't like very bright places, perhaps because of some things that happened to him in the past, but those things were too many and too complicated, and he couldn't think of which one thing it was because of, or maybe every thing made him change a little.

He became what he is now.

There's nothing wrong with this, it's just that he's not used to it yet, but it will get better after a while.

He touched the scar on his arm. He didn't know if it was due to the recent change in weather or temperature, but something would always grow on his body at similar times. It was red at first, and gradually swelled up, like a bump that accidentally hit the edge of a counter. As time went by, the bump would shrink on its own, turning dark red, and finally black, a large lump.

If you press the skin at this time, you can see some scattered red spots in the large black marks, just like insect eggs or red dice in a casino.

It still itches inside.

Sometimes, he would wonder, why must it be me? Why am I so unlucky?

Other people don’t have this kind of thing. They won’t feel itchy and painful, they won’t be pointed at when they walk on the street, and they won’t have people stick up to their faces to show off.

Even when his luck was a little better, people who didn't like him would just stand by and say bad things about him in a voice that was neither too loud nor too soft but loud enough for everyone to hear.

Bad grades, bad looks, no money, unpopular, can't speak...

It was easy to find trouble with him, for he was full of flaws.

The teacher called and said, "The exam will be held in a few days. You must remember to arrive on time. Don't be late. You can be sick or take a leave, but as a student, you can't always do what you want even if you don't go to school, stay in the classroom, or live in the dormitory. You will graduate from here sooner or later. What will you do then? You don't have parents, so you will suffer."

The teacher paused, as if realizing that what he said was not very pleasant to hear, but he continued: "If others don't do well in the exam, their parents can cover the cost. Others don't work and can stay at home. They have parents and brothers and sisters. As long as there is one person in the family who can go out to work, they will not end up on the streets. But you are different. If you don't work, you will live off your savings and die."

Leyuan smiled and replied, "I know the teacher cares about me. I appreciate the teacher's kindness to me, but I already know what I want to do and what I will be like in the future. The teacher doesn't need to tell me anything more. I already know about the exam. When the exam comes, I will go to school. The teacher only needs to arrange a seat for me, tell me the time, and hand out the test papers."

The teacher sighed and asked, "What if I arranged a seat for you, found a classroom for you to take the exam, and found you the exam papers, and handed them out, but there is no one to take the seat? You haven't been to school recently, don't you have something to do? If you have nothing to do and are still out, I would ask if your mind is slipping. You know that as a student you should study hard and graduate as soon as possible, right?"

"I know."

"Don't always tell me I know. What do you know? If you knew, you should go back to school as soon as possible. If you knew, you should study instead of staying outside of school. You are not in the hospital now, right? You didn't go to school before because you were sick, then because you were injured, and then because you were mentally ill. What about now? What else do you have to say?"

"No, I've already said that when I get better, I will go to school. If I can't get better, I will also take the exam. When the exam is over, the teacher will tell me the results. I will leave the rest to the teacher. I have things to do."

"Well, hang up the phone now. I'll talk to you next time. I really need to have a good talk with you, my student, sometime."

Beep, beep, beep——

The call was hung up. Leyuan put the phone aside and frowned. He didn't like talking to people. He used to think it was useful, but later he realized that it was useless because others regarded him as a burden. He didn't like those people, and he didn't like what they said to him. Sometimes he hated everyone to death, and sometimes he thought it was not bad to live like this.

It’s just that the latter always has less time than the former.

Life is always hard.

The third thug was shrouded in mist.

He felt like he had walked around in a maze again and again but couldn't get out. He felt a little overwhelmed and tired, so he sat down to rest. He felt very hot and began to sweat. Then he felt very cold and a gust of wind blew over him. He began to shiver. Goose bumps appeared all over his body and his teeth started to chatter. Knock, knock, knock - knock, knock -

A strange smile appeared on his face. He lowered his head and looked at his fingers. He turned them over and saw his fingernails. He remembered that when he was a child, he was in the classroom and looked at his hands during class. The teacher was on the podium, but he saw him and shouted to him, "Hey, classmate, do you have beautiful hands? Do you paint your nails to show them to the teacher and other classmates?"

He came to his senses, feeling embarrassed, and his whole face turned red. Other students looked at him and laughed, and he wanted to laugh too, but it was not good to laugh, and it was also not good not to laugh. He had a headache, and his face turned even redder. It was also very hot at that time, but not in terms of body temperature, he was hot himself, as if he wanted to tear a crack in the ground and crawl into it.

My head hurts worse.

He staggered to his feet and thought, I can't die here.

Although he didn't know how he ended up here, nor how he could die here, there was clearly nothing here, and nothing meant no danger, so how could he die?

Then he took a step forward and suddenly realized what he was worried about before. Having nothing meant no food or water. He would starve to death here. Maybe before he starved to death, he would die of thirst here.

He began to laugh, as if he was suddenly back in the classroom when he was a child, surrounded by other classmates, with the teacher above him, desks in front of him, walls beside him, and perhaps a pen in his hand and a piece of paper under his hand. His face began to turn red, not because of embarrassment, but this time because of shortness of breath and pain, and maybe a little self-deprecation. He thought it was very funny.

There was a sense of inappropriate happiness, but he knew he shouldn't be happy now because he was going to die.

But he also thought, shouldn't he be happier this way? Because he would be dead soon.

There's nothing to do after death, he seemed to have figured it out and laughed even louder.

Anyway, there is no one here except me, so shouldn't I be able to do whatever I want?

He should do this, so he did it. He felt even hotter and leaned his back against the wall. The wall was uneven and there were many broken small stones on the surface. They might be the building materials used for filling in the beginning. He knew that if he stood up, tiptoed, and felt forward along this line, he might feel a handful of broken glass. Those things would be colorful.

He had looked at the glass in his spare time. Some of the glass were triangles, some were five-pointed stars, and some were simply hexagons and octagons. They looked colorful when there was sunlight, but looked gloomy when there was no sunlight.

That gloom, a bit like a jar of gray mist, would remind him when he passed by of a magazine distributed at school. There was an article in the magazine about a witch who could use magic to collect bad weather in a jar and put it in a storage drawer. If the drawer was opened, the jar might be knocked over.

The mist was released, and it spread. It climbed out through the open window, and when it came into contact with the outside, it suddenly jumped up and flew into the sky. The weather became gradually gloomy, and after a while there were lightning and thunder, and after a while there was heavy rain. It kept changing, like a book blown by a gust of wind, both scary and interesting.

The clothes on my back were soaked with sweat.

This should be the first thing he felt when he touched the wall. He stood up, pulled at his clothes, and suddenly felt a cold child's hand. He subconsciously said, "Fuck you!"

At this time, he should have said thank you, but there shouldn't be any children in this place.

He had been gone for such a long time, and he clearly remembered that there was no one around except himself, so how could there be any children?

Besides, he hated children the most, and amusement parks the second most.

"That bastard, could it be that he is framing me?"