Chapter 9 Chapter 9 I will beat you to death, you dare to covet my people
Zhou Biao shrank his neck and slowly handed the phone out of his arms. His eyeballs were pressed against his upper eye sockets, and he only dared to lower his body to look at Cheng Yiliao.
He placed the phone steadily on the spot where Cheng Yiliao's finger was pointing, and looked at Cheng Yiliao carefully with the alertness and caution of a mouse stealing food.
Cheng Yiliao picked up the phone and looked at it for less than two seconds before he burst into laughter.
After confirming that the dog emperor was not angry, the dog eunuch breathed a sigh of relief.
“Yes, very much so.”
Cheng Yiliao waved at Zhou Biao, pointing at the hand in the video and the half-exposed slender waist. The two watched the video together again.
"Zhou Biao, do you think they look alike?"
The video is only six seconds long, showing only the belly button to the thighs. Not much information can be seen except that it is a skinny boy with a pale face.
There was no sound at all, so quiet that one would suspect that one had not turned on the volume.
Cheng Yiliao didn't say who he looked like, but Zhou Biao knew it all and echoed him, "Yes, very much so, they are exactly the same person."
The day before, Zhou Biao pressed He Songfeng's hand with his foot. He felt that this hand was particularly like He Songfeng, so he stared at the six-second video for sixty minutes.
He devoured He Songfeng viciously over and over again in his mind.
"Ha ha."
Cheng Yiliao's laughter changed its tone, becoming a fierce and gnashing sound.
After laughing twice, he picked up the ashtray on the table and hit Zhou Biao on the forehead with a heavy blow without any warning.
The change before and after takes less than a second.
The ashtray suddenly appeared and rammed into Zhou Biao's body with a bang, leaving a hole in his head. Scarlet blood spurted out along his cheek.
Zhou Biao suddenly curled up into a ball, holding the ashtray and begging for mercy.
"You still want to see it? Do you dare to think about what I want?"
Cheng Yiliao kicked him, just like Zhou Biao kicked He Songfeng's luggage, with a flying kick that made the man roll several times on the ground.
The ashtray clattered to the ground.
Zhou Biao held his head and looked at Cheng Yiliao's face with fear, then quickly stared at the ashtray that had fallen to the ground with a pale face.
Zhou Biao was shaking with guilt, afraid of both Cheng Yiliao and the ashtray.
Now he is just like a sewer rat, trembling all over.
Cheng Yiliao let out a long breath, subconsciously glanced at the cigarette box, and when he found that there were no cigarettes, he clicked his tongue even more irritably.
Zhou Biao rolled and crawled, quickly hugged the blood-stained ashtray in his arms, and did not give Cheng Yiliao the chance to beat him a second time.
He cowered on the ground, cautiously observing Cheng Yiliao's emotions like a mouse.
"Brother Liao, I was wrong. I know I was wrong."
The video on the phone looped several times in a row. Only when the volume was turned up to the maximum could two tiny hums be heard, as if being tickled by a feather. It made people concentrate and listen to the video over and over again, just to hear it a few more times.
It also gave Zhou Biao time to catch his breath and admit his mistake.
"Brother Liao, I really don't dare. There won't be a next time..."
Cheng Yiliao frowned and shouted, "Shut up!"
Cheng Yiliao listened carefully twice more and sighed.
"I feel not as good as He Songfeng, tsk..."
Cheng Yiliao imagined the person in the video as He Songfeng, and he immediately felt happy listening and watching.
He sat back on the sofa, crossed his legs, and shook his phone in his hand comfortably.
"Where did you get the video?"
Zhou Biao replied attentively: "I bought it on a website. I'll send it to you right away if you need it."
Cheng Yiliao adjusted his sitting posture stiffly, and no matter how he moved his legs, he felt uncomfortable.
He glanced at Zhou Biao and asked impatiently, "Is there a complete version?"
Zhou Biao shook his head and quickly wiped the blood off his face with some toilet paper. "That guy didn't send it, but maybe he'll sell it if I pay him more?"
"Contact information sent."
"yes."
Zhou Biao took back his phone and, under Cheng Yiliao's gaze, redirected to a forum link.
"I smashed my phone myself."
While he was lazily giving orders, he stretched out his hand, pointing his fingertips at Zhou Biao like a knife.
"You don't deserve it."
Cheng Yiliao smiled with his eyes narrowed, and Zhou Biao's back was suddenly covered with a layer of cold sweat.
Zhou Biao's family class did not belong to this school, and he was not worthy of being a brother or friend to Cheng Yiliao because he was a child of the Cheng clan.
His family had been lackeys for the Cheng family for generations, and he finally managed to get a position as the prince's student.
Zhou Biao hated Cheng Yiliao, but deep down he was reluctant to give up the wealth and glory that Cheng Yiliao had brought him.
He was treated like a dog and had his legs broken. As soon as his legs healed, he still rushed around eagerly to be treated like a dog.
But Zhou Biao still hated it.
Therefore, the more he hates, the more he will cross the line, openly or covertly, to covet and fight for things that he does not deserve.
Zhou Biao was hit in the face by his own cell phone, and it felt like a hard slap in the face.
Interrupt his fantasy of counterattack that would last for thirty years and then for thirty years.
"Go buy some cigarettes."
"Yes, yes."
Zhou Biao picked up the ashtray and put it on the table, then put away the dying cell phone, nodded and bowed as he walked out of the dormitory.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Cheng Yiliao already calling the seller of the video, and the air was filled with the "beep-beep-beep" sound of the call waiting to be answered.
Time flies and it's time for dinner.
The school was empty with only students from the preparatory classes wandering around the campus because they had evening self-study classes.
The remaining students had already run away and scattered around to play.
At six o'clock in the afternoon, the setting sun was still as scorching as ever, making people feel like they were melting.
"He Songfeng, what time does evening study end? I'm so sleepy."
The person who was talking was leaning against the window, wanting to open the curtains and the window to get some fresh air. However, as soon as he opened the curtains, the dazzling sunlight hit his eyes like a heavy punch. He screamed and quickly closed the curtains.
He Songfeng looked at him like this, smiled softly and replied softly: "8:30."
When talking to He Songfeng, I always lower my voice and soften it. Even if I was covering my eyes and howling a second ago, I would consciously hold my throat and reply softly when facing He Songfeng:
"Oh, then I'll go to the cafeteria to eat first. Remember to copy my notes for me in the evening."
He Songfeng nodded and said, "I'll copy it for you."
The man said "Great" and jumped out happily.
He Songfeng's neighbors listened to the two of them talking like this.
They immediately became the sexually repressed group that Lu Xun once talked about.
From short sleeves to white arms, and then to naked bodies.
The leap in thinking goes from taking notes to copying.
He came up teasingly and smiled at He Songfeng:
"Copy it for me too."
He Songfeng was stunned at first, his eyes wide open, confused for a moment.
But she soon realized that it was a dirty joke, but did not stare at him with a lewd look.
He pondered for a few seconds and chose to be gentle and tolerant:
"Yeah, I'll give it all."
After the few people who walked past realized that He Songfeng was not as unkind as he seemed, they immediately turned back and followed him: "They copied it, so I want to copy it too!"
Several people surrounded He Songfeng and continued chatting while changing topics with laughter.
They also discovered that there were two symmetrical black moles hidden in He Songfeng's eyelids. When He Songfeng smiled, the secret of the symmetry was revealed, causing this group of people to find various ways to make He Songfeng laugh.
The joke only stopped at the word "copy" and did not go any further into being vulgar.
These students were originally preparing to go to the cafeteria, but they found that He Songfeng was still packing up slowly, so they continued to chat. By the time they had finished chatting, He Songfeng had cleaned up the table.
One of the classmates pointed at He Songfeng's desk and said, "He Songfeng, let's go eat."
He Songfeng looked at the other party's warm invitation. He felt soft-hearted and couldn't refuse. He could only reluctantly say "hmm" as a consent.
He Songfeng was squeezed in the crowd. He was handsome, emotionally stable, and had excellent grades, so it was hard for him not to be popular.
A group of people were chattering in his ears, but he liked quietness and thought it was too noisy. He walked a short distance before making an excuse that he had something to do and returned to the teaching building.
He walked in the shade. As he went up the stairs, He Songfeng suddenly heard a sudden "Dala" from downstairs. He leaned against the handrail and looked down. He saw a blurry figure, but he couldn't make out who it was.
The sun in September was scorching, hot enough to scorch a person, and the air felt like it was burning. But He Songfeng didn't feel the heat. Instead, he felt a chilling chill, as if he had been stared at by a ghost for no reason.
The teaching building was completely empty and it was quiet everywhere. It was clearly daytime, but the sun burned He Songfeng so hard that his hair stood on end and his eyes were covered in white.
He started running, but he couldn't get rid of the feeling of someone following him.
He Songfeng had very little physical strength left. After running only a few steps, he realized that he could not run far. He could only run towards the bathroom at the end of the corridor, hide in the cubicle, and wait quietly for the coolness to dissipate.
Dara——
There was that familiar crisp sound again.
But no footsteps were heard.
But the silence had not lasted for half a minute when the footsteps suddenly became hurried, and did not sound like they came from one person.
This is almost the same as being haunted.
He Songfeng stood stiffly against the wall, staring timidly at a light-leaking gap at the bottom of the cubicle, fearing that a pair of obscene eyes would appear there in the next second and try to squeeze in from outside.
A gust of cold wind swept past, blowing in from the gap above the compartment, sticking to He Songfeng's collar and blowing into his back.
He Songfeng lowered his hands and grasped the hem of his clothes tightly, making two small corners with distinct folds.
The fingertips were filled with blood, bright red, but the whole person was pale from fear.
The slender bones in his body were protruding restlessly, and they were so sharp and hard that they were about to pierce through his skin.
He didn't dare to look up, nor did he dare to stare at the gap below.
With eyes half closed, he stood there blankly.
If there really are ghosts in this world, He Songfeng would definitely be the first to die.
He knows a little about running away, but he can't run far. When he gets frightened, he just gives up on himself and says, "Let's just die."
Motionless.
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