YM778.TV Chapter 122: How is the performance of Jiangjing’s teacher, number 048?_2
Chapter 122: How is the performance of Jiangjing’s teacher, number 048?_2
This gave Yang Lin a sigh of relief.
The rest of the class had grown accustomed to it, and Yang Lin was inconspicuous enough that not many people paid attention to this side.
Yang Lin took out her test papers and a pen.
When Bai Lian saw the bruises on her wrist, her brows furrowed.
As the class ended, Yang Lin was still bent over, working through questions.
Bai Lian took out her phone and sent a message to Mao Kun—
[Bring me a box of medicinal plasters.]
She sent her school’s location to him.
Mao Kun, on the other end of the phone, hesitated upon seeing the position of Xiangcheng No.1 Middle School, then replied: [No problem, sis!]
Bai Lian glanced at her phone. Jiang He had sent her two messages—
Jiang He was not the “comma little prince” today.
Bai Jian: [?]
Little Wenmang: [Cat]
Little Wenmang typed laboriously and sullenly: [My brother won’t give it to me.]
A cat?
Bai Lian rested one hand on the table, crossed her legs, and connected these two messages in her mind. Her fine hair slightly brushed over her brow and eyes while her pale, slender fingertips tapped on the screen.
Bai Jian: [Wait for me after school. I will draw you another one.]
Bai Lian took out another piece of paper and started drawing anew.
At noon, after Bai Lian finished eating, she went to wait for Mao Kun outside the school gates.
But this time, it wasn’t Mao Kun who came.
It was Xiaowu and a woman in black.
She was dressed in tight leather clothes with a denim jacket over them, standing at the school gate looking at the entrance, the sunlight casting specks of light on her face.
Xiaowu squatted on one side, smoking. “I’ve told you, I can do it alone. You should be guiding Xiaoqi’s design.”
Xun Chun withdrew her gaze and smiled seductively, “I’m just worried about you being clumsy.”
Xiaowu wanted to argue his case, but he caught sight of Bai Lian coming out.
He hurriedly stood up, “Sis!”
Bai Lian, in her school uniform, walked towards them, facing the light.
Xiaowu, with a ruffian’s appearance, had even dyed a tuft of hair red. The gatekeeper had been staring at them for a long time.
Now, seeing a good student like Bai Lian actually walking over, the gatekeeper wished his eyes were glued on Xiaowu.
Xiaowu: “…”
It was totally absurd.
“Here’s the medicine,” Xiaowu handed a box of ointment to Bai Lian, then looked at Xun Chun and said, “This is Xun Chun, whom you met on Backter Street last time. She and Xiaoqi are working on a design flaw… flaw…”
“It’s a logo, a brand,” corrected Xun Chun, glancing at Xiaowu with a pure English accent. She looked at Bai Lian, “We’ll show it to you once the two of us get it sorted.”
“Alright,” Bai Lian accepted the round, deep green box of ointment, twirling it in her hand, and nodded casually, “Just show it to me when you’re done.”
Her response was crisp and decisive.
Xun Chun was momentarily stunned as she watched her.
“What’s up?” Bai Lian pocketed the box of ointment casually, giving her a lazy look.
She raised an eyebrow.
Her dark pupils clear and calm, simply looking at her.
No different from the way she looked at others.
“It’s nothing,” Xun Chun shook her head.
After that night, she had been following Little Mao. He didn’t ask her to do anything else; once he found out she had been to school, he let her help Xiaoqi out.
She had thought Bai Lian might not trust her or even detest her.
Bai Lian waved them off and went back with the ointment, the gatekeeper, seeing her return, even asked, “Is everything okay, student? They didn’t bully you, did they?”
Bai Lian blinked, her long eyelashes casting shadows, “Not at all.”
Not far away, Xiaowu: “…”
Really, did that damn gatekeeper think he couldn’t hear?
Bai Lian, with the medicine in hand, returned to Class 15.
Most students had gone to the snack shop after lunch or to the dormitory and hadn’t come back yet.
Yang Lin had remained seated without stepping out.
She had eaten only a piece of bread for lunch, which Bai Lian had seen at the milk tea shop.
Bai Lian pulled her chair back with a “schluff” and sat down, then took the box of ointment out of her pocket and unscrewed the lid.
Yang Lin was bent over, buried in homework. She had missed the previous day and had a lot of assignments to catch up on.
Just as she was writing a word, her left hand was suddenly grabbed.
Yang Lin looked up in surprise to see Bai Lian looking down, left hand grasping her wrist, right hand dabbed with brown ointment, methodically pressing it onto the injured part of her arm.
“You…” Yang Lin started to speak.
Bai Lian lifted her head slowly, corner of her mouth curving into a slight smirk, though her eyes held no laughter, “Don’t talk. I feel like cutting someone.”
She said it with an air of nonchalance.
Her eyes narrowed, and the face that typically exuded grace now seemed devilishly charming, as though she had emerged from a sea of corpses.
Yang Lin whispered very softly, “…okay.”
The bruise on her arm had spread a day later, a shocking expanse of purple. Bai Lian’s touch was neither too light nor too heavy, and even somewhat soothing.