"Well, then reluctantly promise you!"

Mad San said with a small red face.

I thought to myself, above... How should I get it?

As the saying goes, interlacing is like a mountain, and she doesn't know how to get on the strip at all.

However, the ancients clouded: there is no teacher.

I hope Sansan-chan will do well tonight, and don't be fooled into walking through the back door.

Three!

......

Wutang lay in the apartment building, his mind full of what happened during the day.

How could I be so impulsive? No, blame that kid for scolding too badly.

The students in the class could all testify for me, and I didn't really do it.

It's okay, it's okay....

Wutang muttered, and the phone screen illuminated his bald head in the darkness.

"Son, answer the phone! Son, answer the phone! Wutang

was taken aback, when did his mobile phone ring become this?

Could it be a virus?

When the two words of the note on the mobile phone screen came into view, Wutang sweated all over.

Don't care if there is no virus in the phone, press the call button and put the phone to your ear.

"Headmaster, what..."

Before he could finish speaking, he was interrupted by a voice on the other end of the phone.

"Wutang, how can you do such a thing?"

The

principal continued, "The monitoring of your class is broken, but I have already learned about the situation with the person concerned, the teacher, and the students who are watching. Every

time that warm voice said more, Wutang's blood became cold.

"After an emergency meeting of our leadership group decided... You won't use it tomorrow, I'm really sorry, we can't help it..." The

gentle voice was thoughtful, and his tone was sincere, but he pronounced his death sentence with a smile.

Wutang was all too familiar with this voice, because he was like this, wearing a mask of hypocrisy to cover his heart full of maggots.

The slender, flesh-white worm wriggled back and forth, burrowing in and out of a heart full of holes and dense fear.

But all of them have heavy masks, or cheerful, or calm, or sad, or, with a fluttering joke on their mouths, which actually conceals the pus behind the joke.

Wutang hung up the phone weakly.

There is no need to listen anymore, those in power don't care what you think, people only care about their own interests (broad interests, including the emotional value of good deeds, and the spiritual meaning of self-proclaimed goodness).

After all, people are creatures of the self.

Wutang slammed his phone to the ground, grabbed the ashtray on the table, and slammed it down.

"Special... Special..." One

thing was smashed to pieces, and the countless layers were removed one by one, revealing the truest and ugliest self.

"Aaaaah!"

Wutang shouted loudly.

The neighbor pushed open the window and shouted: "No hall? What's wrong? Did something happen?

"Shut up, dead fat woman! Get back to your pig's nest! The

neighbor's aunt was stunned for a moment, and then closed the window with a cold face: "Burn the pen, go and die yourself!" Who cares about you!

In her impression, Wutang was obviously a humble and honest-looking bald head, but now he seemed to have changed as a person.

However, she also forgot how ugly the words she had just broken out of her mouth were when she fasted and believed in Buddha on weekdays.

There are very few really good people and bad people in this world, and most of them are ordinary people.

——

Friendly reminder, the next chapter may cause discomfort, please watch with caution.

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