Chapter 92 - Chapter 92: 037 Longsword Incident (Update tomorrow noon)_2

Chapter 92: 037 Longsword Incident (Update tomorrow noon)_2

Translator: 549690339

Ming Dongheng, with one hand casually tucked into his pocket, stood coolly two steps away, holding a cartoon backpack emblazoned with a daikon radish.

Without even looking up, he responded, “Nothing outrageous, Sister Beixuan helped an old granny cross the street before.”

“She really did that?” Director Chen was surprised, “She’s so cold, and she’d help an old granny cross the street? I always thought you guys were just joking with her.”

Director Chen would not dare joke with any one of them.

Jiang Xijue’s smile concealed a knife.

Xu Nanjing’s gentleness was like a drawing knife.

Chen Beixuan was formidable, every cut drew blood.

Ming Dongheng, on the other hand, was easier to get along with, simple.

Ming Dongheng glanced at him, “Go look it up on the military academy forum, you can still find her post there.”

Director Chen didn’t dare to ask Chen Beixuan.

Upon hearing there was a post, he was intrigued.

As they were talking, Bai Lian got out of the car, and Director Chen hurriedly pinched out his cigarette.

Ming Dongheng promptly straightened up; he had business with Director Chen and wanted to leave Jiang He with Bai Lian: “Sorry to trouble you.”

He respectfully handed over Jiang He’s schoolbag to Bai Lian.

Both of them were exceedingly respectful towards Bai Lian.

Ming Dongheng stood at the entrance of the library.

Watching Bai Lian and Jiang He enter the main gate, they then got into their car.

Bai Lian obviously had the ability to rein in Jiang He; with her by Jiang He’s side and people lurking in the shadows to protect him, Jiang Fulai felt reassured enough to transfer Ming Dongheng away.

“Fortunately, we have Miss Bai.” Director Chen looked at the library in the rearview mirror and sighed.

Library.

Leisurely, Bai Lian pulled out a ticket in front of Jiang He, teasing, “Going the day after tomorrow?”

Jiang He didn’t speak, just reached out to grab it.

Bai Lian raised an eyebrow, lifting the ticket higher and nonchalantly flicked it, “Your silence means you don’t want to go.”

Jiang He’s hand could not reach Bai Lian’s wrist: “…”

Seeing the other person actually put away the ticket and calmly started pulling out a biology notebook, Jiang He: “…”

“I’ll go.”

He spoke sullenly.

Bai Lian, with her legs crossed, flipped through the notebook with her long fingers, rested her arm on the table, casually holding the ticket, and lazily tilted her head at his words, “Go where?”

“…To see the school anniversary.”

Bai Lian elegantly folded the ticket and stuffed it into Jiang He’s vest pocket, “Hold onto this.”

Late at ten o’clock at night.

Chen Wei, wearing a school uniform, was going home with a longsword.

At the gate, the servant saw her and quickly opened the iron gate, “Mi- Miss, the master is waiting for you.”

Chen Wei entered the house expressionlessly with her schoolbag and longsword.

In the hall, a man was standing with his back to her.

“Dad,” she stood at attention.

“Slap——”

A harsh slap struck her face.

“Missing a monthly test is one thing, but did I send you to school to cause trouble?” Chen Gang looked at her coldly, “If only you could learn a bit from your brother, I wouldn’t be so disappointed in you.”

A streak of blood appeared at the corner of Chen Wei’s mouth; she covered her face, her expression dark and ominous: “Did I lose face for you again? That’s really great.”

Chen Gang extended his hand, “Where’s the ruler?!”

“Don’t!” The distraught woman finally rushed over, sobbing as she pleaded with Chen Gang, then turned back, tears streaming down her face, “Chen Wei, apologize to your father! Apologize to him!”

The servant bowed his head and handed over the ruler.

Five minutes later.

Chen Gang glared down at Chen Wei, who was lying on the ground barely able to get up, and said indifferently, “Take her to the confinement room.”

The servant approached to help Chen Wei.

Using the longsword to support herself, she staggered to her feet and viciously grabbed a cup from the side table and hurled it at the servant’s head: “Get lost!”

Struck on the head, the servant bled and retreated while holding his forehead.

The others were used to it.

Early Wednesday morning.

Jiang He got up early.

When Jiang Fulai came down from upstairs, Jiang He had finished his breakfast and changed into a white shirt with black and white striped suspenders, now squatting to put on his shoes.

Jiang Fulai was still in his soft homewear, his hair slightly damp.

He didn’t speak, just gave Ming Dongheng, who was standing beside Jiang He, a shallow look.

Ming Dongheng stood up straight, speaking in a very matter-of-fact tone, “The young master is going to Miss Bai’s school.”

Jiang Fulai, holding a teacup, with an elongated stature and one hand in his pocket, stood in front of Jiang He, his light-colored pupils slightly narrowed, surveying the youngster from above.

There was a sense of intimidation.

Ming Dongheng immediately took three steps back, retreating from the battlefield.

Jiang He maintained his posture, looking up at Jiang Fulai with an expressionless face.

His eyes black, large and round, devoid of emotion, he always kept himself sealed within his own world.

A silent resistance.

Jiang Fulai locked eyes with him for quite a while.

Then, with a cold expression, he went “plop” as he set the teacup on the nearby round table, crouched down beside Jiang He, and with a cold touch, those slender fingers tied the untied shoelaces.