Chapter 12
I had originally planned to help Yi Chao settle his debt without him knowing, but I never expected to run into that scene right at the school gate.
The teenager surrounded in the corner by a group of fierce-looking men was wearing a blue and white school uniform. His figure was slender and upright, and there was a bruise at the left corner of his mouth, glaringly obvious against his fair face.
I was stunned for a moment, then immediately grabbed the sleeve of the person next to me. “Lu Yici, do me a favor.”
“What?”
He followed my gaze.
Among the group of men dressed in black, the one with a Gold Chain around his neck held a cigarette in one hand and roughly gripped the boy’s chin with the other, shouting, “Where’s the money?”
Lu Yici frowned and asked, “Yan Qingyue, don’t tell me you want to play the hero again?”
“This is outside the school. Anyone who can hang around here has backing. Just one look and you can tell those guys are trained, not to mention they’re carrying sticks. Let’s go, don’t get involved in this mess.”
“You’re really not helping?” I didn’t move and asked again.
He slung his backpack over one shoulder, one hand in his pocket, and walked forward, reminding me, “There are more than ten of them and only two of us. If we go, not only will it be useless, we’ll get ourselves hurt too.”
So he wasn’t planning to interfere.
I stopped hesitating and said simply, “Fine, you go. Transfer me some money on your phone, as much as you can, I’ll pay you back another day.”
His eyebrows twitched, he stopped, turned his head, “You really want to get involved?”
I checked my phone balance and sent Uncle Wang a text to call the police.
Then I turned calmly and walked over.
“Hey, Yan Qingyue, I advise you not to go looking for trouble. Fights aren’t just talk-people can get hurt, even crippled.”
The warning came from behind me.
I didn’t respond.
A few seconds later, my wrist was suddenly grabbed from behind, long fingers cool to the touch.
He tilted his head slightly, deep-set brows, staring into my eyes to confirm again, “You really want to go over there?”
“Mm.”
“Aren’t you scared?” he asked again.
I glanced at him sideways, “Of course I am.”
No matter what, I was going over there.
After two seconds of stalemate.
He sighed and asked, “Did you call the police?”
I nodded.
He swung his backpack to the other shoulder, his tone lazy, “Let’s go, I’ll go get beaten up with you.”
“Weren’t you not going to help?”
He curled his lips with a hint of nonchalance, “You’re my deskmate. If you get beaten up alone, how embarrassing would that be for me?”
Getting beaten up together is less embarrassing?
Of course, I didn’t ask.