Chapter 6: A Band of Fools!

The entire classroom was plunged into a deathly silence.

Ling Qiu seemed like a demon god incarnate; every movement, every glance made everyone feel as though their very souls were being lashed. Some of the more timid students didn’t even dare look at Ling Qiu now, afraid that one wrong glance would make them the next target of that ruthless brick.

Of all those who had swaggered alongside Ling Qiu moments earlier, only Zhang Qian remained. Her face was as pale as paper; seeing Zhu Yiqun’s miserable state, she trembled uncontrollably, sweat streaming down her body until she was soaked through—including her skirt. But it wasn’t sweat that wet her skirt; she had been so frightened, she had wet herself.

Ling Qiu caught a whiff of the acrid smell, a look of disgust flashing through his eyes as he gave Zhang Qian a cold glance. In that instant, the vengeful energy Ling Qiu had absorbed before flickered in his gaze and surged straight toward Zhang Qian.

A blood-curdling wail echoed in Zhang Qian’s mind. She screamed in terror, then as if bewitched, dropped heavily to her knees and began to kowtow frantically in Shen Meng’s direction.

“Shen Meng! I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” she wailed, her head hammering the floor so hard that the whole class felt their feet tingle.

Then, still kneeling, she turned to Ling Qiu and kowtowed madly once again. Not stopping there, she snatched up the love letter, stuffed it into her mouth, and chewed it down as if it were the tastiest morsel.

With a gulp, Zhang Qian swallowed it, then crawled back to Shen Meng, raising her hand to slap herself across the face—each slap harder than the last.

“Shen Meng, I’m sorry! I’m the ugly one! I’m worse than a pig or a dog!”

The relentless slaps rained down on her own cheeks, her hair in disarray, her face nearly bleeding. Her frantic movements splattered dirty water—God knows from where—onto Shen Meng’s shoes.

Before anyone could react, Zhang Qian lunged forward on her knees, crying, “I’m sorry, I deserve to die! Let me clean it!” With that, she seized Shen Meng’s shoe and began to lick it vigorously.

“Ugh!!”

At this point, not a single classmate could stomach the sight; they all turned away, retching.

Ling Qiu himself felt a wave of nausea and coldly ordered, “Get lost.”

It was as if this command brooked no disobedience. No matter how much pain they were in, everyone scrambled up and bolted for the door.

Even Zhu Yiqun, who seemed unconscious moments earlier, clambered out the door with a bloodied head, wailing in pain.

Throughout it all, Shen Meng hadn’t said a word. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to speak—

She simply couldn’t. Naturally timid and gentle, she had never witnessed anything like this before. She was so shocked, her face drained of color, she was frozen in place.

Ling Qiu stepped forward, laid a gentle hand on Shen Meng’s shoulder, sending a warm current through her. Her expression and composure returned to normal, though the shocking scene that had just unfolded would be hard to forget.

Originally, Ling Qiu had only intended to beat Zhu Yiqun and Zhang Qian enough to drive them away. But they had gone after Shen Meng.

So this time, Ling Qiu had to make sure to step down hard.

Suddenly, the bell rang for class. A pot-bellied, middle-aged teacher strode in. “Class!”

Everyone hastily returned to their seats. The long day had only just begun, but everyone knew: from today on, the power dynamic at No. 3 High had been turned upside down.

Ling Qiu had just crushed Zhu Yiqun—the school’s top dog—into the dust. The days ahead would be anything but peaceful.

—

At noon, when school let out, Zhu Yiqun, head wrapped in bandages, was supported by a gang of his underlings as he hobbled in pain to the night market street.

He limped into a bar with its metal shutter half-drawn and fell to his knees, bawling, “Boss! I missed you! I missed you so much I could die!”

His shout brought out more than a dozen thugs. Recognizing Zhu Yiqun, they jeered, “Why aren’t you at school in broad daylight, coming here to bother the boss? Don’t you know our Skully spends his nights with beautiful women and needs to rest during the day? How else will his kidneys recover?”

“With all this racket, how’s anyone supposed to sleep?”

Just then, an angry roar sounded from the back. Out came a shirtless, bald, short man, his skin dark and covered in tattoos. His belly bore a grotesque face, with his navel as the mouth, jiggling as he walked, the “mouth” opening and closing as if it were freestyling.

“Boss!”

“Skully!”

The whole crew bowed and shouted as the tattooed dwarf strode out. Skully approached, saw it was Zhu Yiqun, and without warning slapped him across the face. “I was just dreaming about hacking someone up, and you scared me awake! In my dream, I dropped my knife and some guy on an electric scooter stabbed my guts right out! Damn it!”

He grew angrier as he spoke, giving Zhu Yiqun a vicious kick that sent him rolling. Already battered, Zhu Yiqun howled in pain.

The younger thugs watched in awe. “Even with injuries like that, the boss still kicks him without mercy. Now that’s hardcore!”

“No wonder he’s our Skully—ruthless and silent!”

Face contorted in agony, Zhu Yiqun sobbed, “Boss, please, don’t hit me anymore. I was nearly beaten to death at school!”

That last kick vented some of Skully’s anger. In the dim light, he noticed Zhu Yiqun’s head wrapped in bandages, his face bruised and pitiful.

“You aren’t the boss of No. 3 High? Who the hell dared lay a finger on you?”

Skully’s words left Zhu Yiqun momentarily stunned. Damn, even when Skully curses, he doesn’t spare himself!

After a moment’s hesitation, Zhu Yiqun quickly complained, “His name is Ling Qiu! Some pathetic rich kid—usually a total coward. But today he went crazy and beat me half to death!”

Skully’s blood boiled. He wanted nothing more than to fire up his phone’s front camera and stream a tattooed monster push-ups challenge for the whole world to see.

“He dared to touch one of my boys? Is he tired of living?!”

Seizing the moment, Zhu Yiqun wailed, “Skully, my dear brother, my ass still hurts! Ling Qiu wasn’t just beating me—he was slapping you in the face!”

With a crash, Skully smashed a wine bottle on the table. “Fine! Tonight I’ll lead the brothers and break that brat’s legs—if not for you, then for my own pride!”

“Boss… your hand’s bleeding…” a lackey ventured timidly.

Skully looked down to see his hand dripping blood, his heart quivering, but he lifted his head in pride. “What’s a little blood to a man like me?”

“Skully... that bottle you just smashed—it was our bar’s rare, imported vintage, worth a hundred and thirty thousand…”

“What?!”

Hearing this, Skully was furious—and heartbroken.

“Damn that Ling Qiu! That wine cost me a hundred and thirty thousand! He’ll pay for this in blood!”

His little gang looked on in bewilderment.

Ling Qiu must be cursed—sitting in school, trouble rained down on him out of nowhere.

But so what?

Who cares about IQ or logic in this life? All you need is guts—just go for it!

“Boss…”

“What?!”

“Your hand… it’s still bleeding…”

“Damn it! Didn’t I say, what’s a little—wait, why is it spraying like a fountain?! What good are you all, just standing there? Call an ambulance, now!”

Perhaps he’d lost too much blood; Skully reeled, nearly fainting, and his men had to prop him up.

“What are you doing?! I can stand on my own! Let go!”

But as he shoved them away, his head spun and he plopped down hard on the floor.

Everyone stared, dumbfounded.

Skully’s hand was burning with pain, his fury peaking as he looked at his blood-soaked hand, the veins on his forehead throbbing.

“Ling Qiu… you’ve shamed me so deeply! This grudge is irreconcilable! If I don’t destroy you, I’m not a man!”

At his sudden roar, the whole gang’s blood surged with excitement.

Damn… it felt a little strange, but—

Who cares! This is life!