My Gentle Tyrant, Forbidden Love, Little Brother, Don't Come Closer, Big Brother, I Want More...
"What the hell is this?" Song Lang quickly spread out his Chinese, math, and English textbooks and covered all the picture books.
Hao Wei smiled understandingly: "Don't worry, watch it. The names are a bit cheesy, but the art style is great, and the stories are very thought-provoking. You should learn from them."
Song Lang: "..."
Chapter 038
"Take it now!"
Song Lang pushed the small stack of picture books back to Hao Wei, as if he were about to throw a bomb.
Hao Wei smiled calmly and lit the fuse, blasting open the door to a new world for Song Lang. She then turned and left, concealing her achievements.
As more and more people entered the classroom, Song Lang quickly stuffed the messy books into his desk pocket.
If Zhou Sen's group of scoundrels saw this, he'd be doomed.
While he was busy, he noticed someone standing next to him. When he looked up and saw Anru's face, he quickly leaned forward and covered the remaining two picture books.
"Is something the matter?"
"you……"
Anru hesitated, glanced back at Hao Wei who was taking a selfie with her classmates, and then looked back at Song Lang, but with a hint of something more meaningful in her eyes.
Song Lang disliked speaking in riddles; he always preferred to say what he meant.
"What's wrong? Just say it."
"N-nothing."
Just then, the bell rang for the start of class. Anru bit her lip, looking like she was about to cry, and returned to her seat, where she lay motionless.
Song Lang had no time to ponder her affairs and quickly stuffed the last two books back into his desk.
The first class on the first day of school was English taught by the homeroom teacher, and Song Lang, who only scored 30 points, became the main target of criticism.
Because Song Lang only answered the multiple-choice and true/false questions, leaving the rest blank and not writing a single word.
"Your accuracy on those questions was alright, so you didn't know how to do them? I think you have a problem with your attitude towards learning! Come to my office after class, and we'll have a good talk about why you handed in a blank paper."
"Teacher, I injured my hand before the exam, I absolutely didn't mean it to you," Song Lang explained with a grin.
"Do you think I'm easy to fool? Your injured left hand, so you think the wound can just move around when you're speaking English?"
The homeroom teacher threw a piece of chalk at him, but Song Lang's seat was in the last row, too far away to hit him. Instead, it hit Meng Fanxing, who was sitting in the first two rows, on the head.
"Teacher! I passed," Meng Fanxing said, covering her forehead with a pitiful expression. "Could you please aim more accurately? Don't accidentally hurt civilians."
The whole class burst into laughter.
The homeroom teacher slammed his hand on the blackboard and pointed impatiently to the corner of the first row near the door.
"After class, Song Lang, move your seat here so you're closer to the teachers. That way, you won't accidentally hurt anyone when you throw chalk."
"No, please..."
Before Song Lang could finish protesting, the homeroom teacher threw another piece of chalk at Meng Fanxing, saying, "Help him move his desk after class, so he doesn't hurt his hand again and miss the monthly exam."
Meng Fanxing: "..."
There was nothing he could do, so Song Lang thus monopolized the glorious single throne of the classroom. He was the first person that teachers of all subjects saw when they entered the classroom, and they could see him even if they just tilted their heads while standing on the podium.
Song Lang couldn't even dawdle in class; the only time he had any freedom was during Chinese class, which lasted about 45 minutes.
The reason is simple: the Chinese teacher and he don't get along. They'll each do their own thing and play on their phones; it's become an unspoken agreement between them.
He tucked his phone into his book and scrolled through all the apps, feeling utterly bored. The harassing phone number hadn't made a sound for the past few days; it was probably busy with homework before school started and didn't have time to bother him anymore.
I was listening to some incomprehensible nonsense with my chin in my hand, and just as I was getting sleepy, my ear was hit, and a crumpled piece of paper appeared on my desk.
He glanced back and saw Hao Wei winking and making faces at him from slightly behind, gesturing for him to open it and take a look.
Song Lang had a gut feeling that this was no good news, and sure enough, the note read: Hurry up and read that book I recommend, "Brother," it's super exciting, or I'll chop off my penis!
He scoffed and wrote below the line: What the hell are you chopping? Making something out of nothing.
The note was thrown back a moment later. Song Lang unfolded it and his expression changed.
If you won't look, then I'll tell Meng Dazui what I saw.
Song Lang's heart skipped a beat. He looked back at Hao Wei with a guilty conscience. Hao Wei smiled at him, her eyes particularly cunning.
Song Lang gritted his teeth, pulled the picture book out of his desk, and covered it with the test paper as a cover. With mixed feelings, he opened the first page.
With just one glance, Song Lang's hand began to tremble slightly uncontrollably.
The content itself isn't particularly stimulating; it's just a scene of two people kissing in a changing room. The details are very clear, and the art style is beautiful—the kind of thing girls would like. But the two main characters in the scene… are boys.
This involuntarily reminded him of himself and Shen Zhifei.
They had rolled around in bed, caressed each other in the bathroom, and even made love in the movie theater.