“Fuck!”
Ling Jie seemed to be pinched in pain.
She suddenly let go, stood up, raised her fist, and slammed it hard into the back of He Rou’s head.
thump thump thump—
A few dull thuds, and He Rou stopped resisting.
She bent over, protecting her face, trying hard to shield herself.
But… even then, they weren’t satisfied.
One person grabbed a fistful of He Rou’s long hair and yanked upward.
As He Rou’s dirtied face appeared again, many others reached out, smearing ink all over her face in a chaotic frenzy.
…
Now He Rou’s seat was a complete mess.
To better carry out their so-called “fun game,” they had shoved aside her desk and chair.
Black, red, and blue inks kept covering her body.
He Rou didn’t know how to fight back.
She could only close her eyes, trying to keep the ink out.
“Hey, hey, her hair’s pretty nice.”
From the noisy crowd, someone mentioned He Rou’s hair.
And right after that remark, a pair of scissors coincidentally appeared in someone’s hand.
“Ling Jie! Ling Jie, here, take this. Ha ha, will she cry?”
“Let’s try.”
The crowd cheered.
They weren’t satisfied with just ink.
What they wanted, in a modern society ruled by law, was to completely destroy a person, and in this oppressive era, to vent their emotions.
Ling Jie took the scissors and walked toward He Rou.
Snip, snip—
The scissors clicked beside He Rou’s ear.
He Rou shrank her neck, eyes squeezed tightly shut.
Ink trickled from the corners of her eyes into her mouth—astringent and carrying the smell of some chemical reagent she couldn’t name.
“Bald chicken, ha ha—”
The person who had been yanking He Rou’s hair suddenly burst out laughing, as if anticipating what this person was about to become.
So crazy.
Not just her—everyone around He Rou laughed.
The laughter was loud, making He Rou’s ears ache.
Just as Ling Jie, scissors in hand, was about to touch her…
He Rou’s eyes snapped open—a physiological reaction born of extreme rage.
She opened her mouth, and a sharp scream erupted from her throat.
“Ah! Don’t touch me!”
She lunged forward, trying to push the scissors away.
But the fever made her movements sluggish.
Before she could reach Ling Jie, another heavy blow struck the back of her head.
Bam!
“Ugh—”
He Rou slammed face-first onto the ground.
Her chin hit the marble floor, and her lip was instantly bitten through against her teeth.
The taste of blood mixed with the ink.
“Still screaming? Who do you think you are!”
Ling Jie spat on He Rou.
He Rou lay on the ground, her vision blurry.
She stared at the scissors.
The emotions suppressed inside her for so long exploded completely.
He Rou lay on the ground, hateful eyes slowly opening.
The blood flowing from her mouth kept being sucked back in.
The morals and values that had existed in her heart since birth turned into the most laughable garbage at this moment.
Her hand groped blindly on the floor until it grabbed the bag that had always been crooked at her side and never left her.
The sound of the zipper being pulled open went unnoticed in the noisy classroom.
He Rou’s hand reached inside and grasped the craft knife.
Click—click—
The sound of the blade being pushed out.
Quiet. Crisp.
Tragedy often happens within seconds.
Because of her resistance, He Rou’s hair was let go, though she still took a punch.
Her hair was saved, but the scissors were still in Ling Jie’s hand.
But… none of that mattered anymore.
“Ling… Ling…”
He Rou muttered softly, then suddenly sprang up, raised her hand, and slashed at the nearest person.
Ssssh—
The sound of the blade cutting through school uniform fabric and skin became eerily clear at that moment.
The girl froze for a second, then stared at the red spray from her arm and let out a bloodcurdling scream.
“Ah! A knife! She has a knife!”
The crowd that had been swaggering in the classroom now scattered in terror like ants scalded by fire.
Desks crashed to the floor, chairs toppled, people shrieked and cried.
Even those who hadn’t taken part in the brutality were running.
But He Rou didn’t look at the fleeing crowd.
Her eyes were only on Ling Jie.
With her current strength, she couldn’t take revenge on everyone.
And soon, the punishment for her impulsive act wouldn’t give her the same chance that Luo Yun had.
She could only rely on now… this moment.
He Rou stared at Ling Jie, whose eyes were full of disbelief and… terror.
Ling Jie was also petrified, but she didn’t run with the crowd.
She still had the scissors in her hand, and this was school, so deep down she thought this person wouldn’t dare do anything to her.
But…
She couldn’t guess that a desperate person would act without regard for consequences.
“You… don’t come near me! He Rou! Are you crazy!”
Ling Jie turned and stumbled toward the back door of the classroom.
He Rou said nothing.
She chased after her, moving strangely like a broken puppet, but her speed was terrifyingly fast.
Ling Jie ran out of the classroom and into the corridor.
He Rou followed closely.
“Don’t run…”
He Rou murmured.
There were many people in the corridor, but only a few were fleeing.
Most had come out to watch the drama because of the commotion and word of mouth.
But when everyone saw a person covered in dirty stains and with black-red stuff—couldn’t tell if it was blood—all over her face…
They all felt fear.
But in this time of oppression and loss of freedom, more people felt a mix of fear and excitement.
They didn’t think this madwoman would hurt them.
Ling Jie still couldn’t escape He Rou’s grasp.
There were many people around her.
As she passed a corner, someone bumped into her.
The marble floor, diligently cleaned by the janitor every day, provided a huge assist for He Rou.
Ling Jie fell.
Before she could get up, He Rou pounced.
She straddled Ling Jie’s waist firmly, grabbed her long hair with one hand, and raised the craft knife high with the other.
Ssssh—
“Enjoying this?”
He Rou stared emotionlessly at Ling Jie’s face, twisted with fear.
“No! Don’t! Spare me, He Rou! I was wrong! I was really wrong!”
Ling Jie screamed, both hands desperately covering her face, but even her protective hands didn’t escape.
Ssssh—
He Rou didn’t stop.
Strangely, Luo Yun popped into her mind.
How odd.
…
Her painting hand never stopped.
“The only person who can help you endlessly is yourself.”