Ling Fan looked very calm under the watchful eye of those men. He bent down and picked up a brick.
The leader of the gang said with haughty disdain, "Hey, boy, don't tell me you're going to fight me. Haha, you'd better give up the idea."
'Humph! A brick won't make any difference in a fight. I don't think this sickly boy can beat us. After all, we have numerical superiority,' he thought.
Actually, Ling Fan didn't have the strength to fight back. He was almost too weak to lift the brick.
But...
"Haha..." A creepy smile formed on Ling Fan's face.
"Yes, I can't beat you. But what if I kill myself with the brick? By then you guys will be arrested. Do you know how long you will have to stay in prison?" Ling Fan asked leisurely. His voice was weak and flat, but his words chilled them to the bone.
"No kidding, boy... Ah!" a member of the gang squawked.
Before the man could finish his sentence, Ling Fan bashed himself over the head with the brick without hesitation.
Blood poured from a wound on his head and streamed down his face. His eyes took on a murderous glow.
"It doesn't seem enough. Guess how many times I have to hit myself before I die," Ling Fan said with a smile, as if the deep wound on his head didn't hurt.
His face was covered in blood, and his smile was gloomy and crazy, as if an evil spirit had awoken inside him. His homicidal aura blanketed the vicinity, and he looked like a demon from hell.
He didn't know what the hell was like, but he thought of himself as a ferocious ghost that had just come back to the human world from hell.
At Ling Fan's words, those youths swollen with arrogance were scared stiff. They subconsciously took a step backwards, their faces taut and terrified.
They enjoyed the fun of bullying their schoolmates, but anyway, they were just teenagers about seventeen or eighteen. They had never seen anyone as fearless as Ling Fan before. They were trembling all over with fear.
"Shit... He's gone mad... He's gonna kill himself... Let's get out of here..."
They ran away in a panic. They even threw away the coin that they had robbed from Ling Fan.
Ling Fan watched them disappear in the distance. He squatted down, picked up the coin and put it in his pocket. He was very poor now and had to watch every penny...
He seemed oblivious to pain. He took off his coat, wiped the blood off his face and applied pressure to his wound to stop the bleeding. Then he turned to leave.
The first lesson he had learned in prison was that "the weak fear the strong, and the strong fear those who have no fear of death".
Ling Fan cherished his own life, more than anyone else did. Although his wound looked terrible, it was not at all life-threatening.
...
Ling Fan went back to his classroom without receiving any medical treatment. His classmates looked at him with surprise or curiosity or fear. Some even had a look of dark pleasure on their faces. None of them sympathized with him or cared about him.
Their reactions didn't surprise him at all. Without saying a word, Ling Fan went back to his seat, just as he had done in the previous life.
After a while, their monitor came up to Ling Fan and said unhappily, "Hey! our class teacher asked you to go to his office."
Without a word spoken, Ling Fan just nodded to the monitor.
The process had changed, but the result hadn't changed a bit. He was called to the class teacher's office, as he had been in the previous life.
Ling Fan curved his lips into a smile.
'That man... I haven't seen him for ten years...' he thought to himself.