Ling Fan left the school. He didn't go to the hospital; instead, he went home directly. The wound on his head had stopped bleeding and dry scabs was developing.
According to memories of his previous life, Ling Fan made it back to the place where he lived. It was an old apartment building built in the 1990s.
His apartment had only one bedroom and one living room, narrow, cluttered and a little dirty. He lived alone.
He had no memory of his father. His mother always regarded him as an encumbrance. Five years ago she abandoned him and remarried. If she didn't remit 350 yuan to his bank account every month, he would certainly have forgotten her.
Maybe that was why he yearned for love and warmth...
His coat was covered in blood and dirt. He threw it on the ground and came up to a mirror.
It was hard to imagine that a 17-year-old boy was less than 160 cm tall. He looked pale, thin and undernourished. There was no doubt at all that 350 yuan was nowhere near enough for a growing boy.
He hadn't had his hair cut for a long time. His hair was stained with blood and dirt, and his school uniform was crumpled and untidy. In a word, he was a mess.
It was dim in the room, but his dark brown eyes were as bright as stars. Apart from that, he seemed good for nothing.
Ling Fan surveyed himself in the mirror. From the point of view of a spectator, he was really not a pretty sight.
Suddenly, he understood why people looked down upon him and liked to bully him in various ways. He had an impulse to give himself a good beating when he saw his reflection in the mirror, let alone others.
Ling Fan burst into uncontrollable laughter. He laughed and laughed, his eyes swimming with tears...
"Damn it! Is he crazy? I want undisturbed rest!"
"The guy must be insane. Go to hell if you have no desire to live. Don't disturb others!"
"Shit! Who the hell is laughing? I'll beat him to death!"
The old apartment building was not soundproof. Some of the occupants were unemployed, and others worked at night and slept during the day.
Vicious oaths rang out continuously. Ling Fan finally stopped laughing.
He looked at himself in the mirror and said coldly, "You're such a lowly nobody."
He decided to make a change.
What happened in his previous life told him that the weak were bound to be beaten. So this time he no longer wanted to be treated as cannon fodder. He had achieved nothing and been bullied by many people in his previous life. That powerful man easily destroyed him...
Ling Fan picked up a rusty knife.
Was he going to kill himself?
Of course not.
He grabbed a lock of hair that had fallen down over his eyes and cut it short expertly with the knife, irrespective of whether his wound would open up again.
ā¦
An hour later, Ling Fan surveyed himself in the mirror. He had had his hair cut short and changed into fresh clothes. Although he still looked thin and weak, at least he didn't look scruffy any more.
Er, he was still poor...
Ling Fan suddenly turned around and walked into his bedroom. He took out an old iron box from a crack in the wall. Inside the box was all his savings.
He opened the iron box full of loose change.
There was no need to count the money. He knew it was 125.3 yuan in total.