Hang Qi works in an Internet cafe to repair computers.

Yesterday, there was a heavy rain in the whole city, flooding most of the city. In the cold and rainy weather, there were particularly many junior and senior students who chose to play bloody games in Internet cafes with heating.

Hang Qi felt his throat dry and itchy during the day, but in order to earn the living expenses, he still carried a tool kit and ran to Internet cafes one by one in the heavy rain.

He is cheap, has superb skills, and has problems with computers. Whether it is viruses or hardware, there is nothing he can't solve.

But he was underage. Besides, his white and sickly face was always covered with purple. Although he was tall, he was thin and taciturn, and he didn't look like a backer.

These Internet cafe owners know terriblely that they don’t have to give him too much money.

So Hang Qi's salary is that the repair fee is 5 to 20 yuan per time, which is pitifully small.

He can ignore it, so there will be no food to eat.

He lives alone in an old community, the area where the city is about to be demolished, and is surrounded by remote balconies. Several crowded balconies are under the messy railings covered with clothes. They look like dangerous houses. Except for some abandoned elderly people and homeless people, no one will live here.

There was no pharmacy around. He had a high fever in the middle of the night last night. Hang Qi sat up on the bed with his forehead and was so burned out all over, but he didn't have the energy to buy medicine at a 24-hour convenience store three kilometers away.

So I fainted from a vague fever, but unexpectedly I survived this morning and my fever subsided.

Hang Qi's body was as terrified as a child. He was locked up in an orphanage for 72 hours. He was trembling all over and there was nothing in the end, so he didn't care much and came to school directly.

But unexpectedly, the morning was getting better, and now I started to get a fever again in a daze.

Hang Qi's face was bloodless. I don't know if he was confused. His mind was so heavy that he was filled with water, and some past events flashed through him.

Or it was a nightmare from the past.

...

Since I can remember, Hang Qi knew that he was disgusting and no one would like him. Not only was the ugly part on his face almost unbearable, but he wanted to vomit from his eyebrows to his ears. It was also because he and his mother lived in a small attic, invisible loft, and his mother did not go to work. His father only came once a month. After he came, he locked him in the bathroom, did some things with his beautiful mother in the room, and then hurried away.

The neighbor looked at him with that look, as if he was looking at the garbage made from garbage, but he always had to conceal his regret: "What a pity this child is."

It's a pity to say it, but it's clear that he was laughed at as a mouse in the gutter in the darkness of his heart. He would not have a future. Even if there were, he was the lowest and most humble person. He just drew some high pleasure from his experience with his mother.

——"It's quite pitiful, but to be honest, the scar on his face made me feel a little overwhelmed."

——"I don't dare to let my child play with him, for fear of being scared to be scared to the shadows."

——"Yes, hahaha."

The sharp and harsh neighborhood laughter always came to an abrupt end when Hang Qi went downstairs with his schoolbag in his arms. They watched the little Hang Qi's already pale face suddenly become bloodless. Not only that, they instigated no children in elementary school to play with him. The children were more cruel and malicious than adults, and they didn't know how to restrain themselves.

They would naively pull Hang Qi's ear and ask, "I heard that you are disabled. What does 'disabled' mean?"

Disability means that the mother, who was crazy about depression, scalded her back with boiling water and slapped on her side face, and her ears buzzed. After a long time, I don’t know when it started to hear one ear weakly. Gradually, I was frightened to find that the ear could no longer hear any sarcastic sounds.

Xiao Hangqi didn't dare to cry, and stood in the corner of the wall, with his back against the wall, and was pushed, and it seemed like he was about to fall down.

He didn't dare to move away from the corner of the wall. He couldn't hear the answers to questions in class again and again. It would be fine if he was found to be half a deaf person, but he was even more afraid of being discovered that the hideous and ugly scars on his back were scary.

Hang Qi, who was still a child, couldn't avoid his mother's crazy and could only crawl under the bed crying and begged her: "It hurts, mom, I feel pain, don't beat me." It's useless, and I'm almost dead, and it's useless.

Sometimes my mother felt normal, and she felt guiltyly touching the purple and swelling on Hang Qi's body, hugging him and crying: "Mom didn't mean it, can you forgive me?"

When she was normal, the weather in Hang Qi would be clear. She also told Hang Qi that when the time comes, he would be like a normal child.

At that time, Hang Qi was excited and thought that his mother still loved him at least.

But she is getting crazy more and more often, and she is getting worse.

In the dark attic, Hang Qi gradually changed from a young child kneeling on the ground without any strength to beg for a long time with tears on his face, and grew up to a cold boy with thin body and always with scars of fighting on his body.

He finally stopped expecting.

It was not until the day he sent his mother to a mental hospital and was taken to the orphanage because he was less than fourteen years old.

He also did not wait for the hearing aids his mother promised.

...

But it doesn't matter. He can buy it himself. He moved, lived alone, transferred to school, made money from work, paid tuition, and ate and slept alone. But in the past he was out of place, but now he still cannot get rid of this out of place.

His hearing aids were hidden well and no one called him disabled.

But there is still no one who doesn't dislike him and is really nice to him.

This idea itself is ridiculous. Hang Qi believes that no one will ever extend his hand to himself in a quagmire.

When everyone sees the scars on his face, they will turn their heads to hide the disgust in their eyes. If they know his broken hearing and scars on his back, the disgust will definitely double and turn into ridicule and pity.

However, it's really ridiculous. Even though he doesn't have any expectations, he always.

I can't help but feel a little humble desire.

...

Hang Qi was frightened by the nightmare and sweated coldly. When he raised his head from the table, he realized that two classes had passed. His lips were dry and skinny, pale and bloodless, and sitting up straight was even more uncomfortable than lying down. But he didn't plan to continue lying down, afraid of continuing to fall into that kind of nightmare.

The heavy rain outside the window, the tone of the teacher's mechanical lectures, and the cold classmates were obviously much more at ease than that dream.

He supported his heavy head with one hand, and his other slender and pale hand opened the book, picked up the pen, his eyes were confused, and he wrote and painted casually.

Hang Qi has a good memory, never forgets everything, and has good grades. It is ridiculous to say, and this may be a little compensation from God to him.

Hang Qi slept for two classes, and Tan Mingming, who was sitting in front, turned around and observed him for two classes.

The more you observe, the more sure what points Tan Mingming becomes.

Hang Qi is by the window in the penultimate row, isn’t this a standard campus protagonist seat?

I sleep every day in class, and occasionally I open my eyes and look confused when I can't wake up. I'm even the first place in the next grade. This is a fucking too much.

Not the protagonist is also an important character with many roles.

Tan Mingming couldn't help but guess what happened to Hang Qi. Generally speaking, important characters have special growth experiences, either rich second generation or pitiful, while Hang Qi's boy looks sick and dressed simply, looking like the latter. As for the details, whether a single-parent family or an orphan, Tan Mingming has no way of knowing.

Hang Qi has always been alone and does not communicate with others. There is no one in the class who knows Hang Qi.

During the break, she tried to inquire about the study committee member in the class, but was surprised by the study committee member: "What are you doing that ugly monster?"

——Ugly???

Tan Mingming almost sprayed out a mouthful of salt soda. Isn’t it ugly? It’s not ugly. She thought, if there is no scar on her face, Hang Qi’s appearance is worthy of the first place in the school.

What is the difference between your words and "Ordinary Louis Koo"?

However, Tan Mingming found out carefully, but he didn't think he was ineffective, but he still found out some things.

For example, the group of gangsters who surrounded Hang Qi last time turned out to be not the one-sided beating Hang Qi, but the one-on-one-one-one-one-one-year-old Hang Qi was beaten down by Hang Qi one-on-four when they provoked Hang Qi last week. These people were damaged and they were not convinced, so they called the helper of the higher-grade gangsters from other schools, and they had the scene they saw last time.

This kid, that's OK.

As well as almost no one in the class talked to Hang Qi. He had been in school for two years, and his hair was always slightly longer, covering his ears, or wearing headphones, or wearing a hat when the weather was a little cold. His eyes were silent and cold, and he didn't want to pay attention to others. He was so out of place, how could anyone in the class have a hot face to put on his cold butt?

In addition, because of his good grades and scars on his face, the boys in the back of the class couldn't stand him and went against him many times. Others dared not offend those boys. After a long time, Hang Qi was the isolated air.

Tan Mingming subtly felt like he was suffering from the same illness as Hang Qi.

She felt that the boy was alone, passing through the rainy sky, and lifted up the bicycle that was lying on the ground, looked at the unplugged air sieve in silence, squatted down, took out the air sieve that had been used to, and then in the gray evening, he passed through the endless stream of streets, the noise had nothing to do with him wearing headphones, and he could not hear anything. The wind blew the forehead of his pale and sick face, and faced some passers-by on the road, surprised, curious, and pity for the eyes that looked at the scars on his face-

That taste must be even more lonely than the fact that she has bought pancakes for more than ten years.

Tan Mingming was so sad that his heart trembled again after being saddened by the scene he had in mind. During the lunch break, while her classmates went to the cafeteria, she went to the infirmary and bought three boxes of cold medicine.

If a passerby wants to implement the principle of adding dramas, of course, he must always find the right angle and connect important roles.

It doesn't matter whether an important character knows her existence. It mainly means that it must appear around the important character in secret.

At twelve o'clock in the afternoon, the classroom was empty, and there were two girls lying on the corridor eating instant noodles to lose weight.

Tan Mingming took the umbrella dripping in his hand, put it in the frame behind the door, looked around, and confirmed that no one would suddenly enter the classroom. He felt guilty and quickly walked towards Hang Qi's seat.

Hang Qi was not wet from the rain at noon, so he bought a bun downstairs to give him some lunch. He was in a state of distress and decided to go back to his seat to continue sleeping for a while, but I don’t know if it was his illusion that his seat had been touched.

The traces were obvious, there was wet water on the table, and the stack of books on the table was also crooked.

Hang Qi frowned, with obvious displeasure in his cold eyes, and returned to his seat.

Of course he didn't think that someone had stole his own things - he had nothing to steal except books. Compared with those boys who carried famous brand schoolbags and showed off all day long, his things were poor and pitiful.

He just felt that the ones in the back row were looking for death.

But when he opened the desk.

After he saw what was extra inside, his pupils shrank and his dark eyelashes shook suddenly.

Listening to the heavy rain outside the window, he suddenly looked up and glanced around the classroom, with disbelief and suspicion in his eyes, and there was a hint of other colors that could not be seen.

There are three boxes of medicine on the table.

A box of wind-heat colds, a box of wind-cold colds, and a box of anti-inflammatory drugs.
Chapter completed!