The backpack zipper was open, and the contents had all fallen out.
The troublemaker spat, grabbed a book that had fallen to the side, and started hitting Shen Zhifei with it.
At that moment, he felt like a hero who had fought two opponents and turned defeat into victory. He was triumphant and declared his victory with his fists.
However, half a minute later, after the head of the teaching department shouted "Stop!" at the classroom door with an imposing air, he became dejected.
He even saw the smile on Shen Zhifei's bleeding lips when Donald Duck lifted him up.
That smile made him a little scared, but it was so fleeting that he thought it was an illusion caused by Song Lang's iron head technique.
"You three! Come with me!" Director Tang kicked the little troublemaker in the butt impatiently, then glared at Song Lang. "Hurry up, stop dawdling!"
Song Lang gave a perfunctory reply, his eyes darting around, wondering which bastard had gone to tattle!
Then he saw Donald Duck pat his good buddy on the shoulder encouragingly and say earnestly, "Good job, little guy, keep up the good work."
Meng Fanxing dared not utter a sound and nodded repeatedly.
As Song Lang passed by him, he glared at him. Traitor!
Meng Fanxing shook her head at him, feeling wronged. "I didn't want to either, brother."
Shen Zhifei didn't follow immediately. Instead, he squatted down to pick up his books. His arm had been hit by the chair and was now numb with pain, making him move slowly.
After he finished packing, he slowly slung his backpack over his shoulder and walked outside.
"Why are you carrying a backpack?" Song Lang whispered. "You're not thinking about doing your homework at a time like this, are you?"
Shen Zhifei glanced at him but didn't say anything.
His skin was fair and delicate; a light pinch would leave a red mark, let alone being beaten so badly that his face looked rather gruesome now.
A small bump was swollen on his right cheekbone, and there were bruises around his eyes. His forehead and the corner of his mouth were covered in blood, making him look more seriously injured than Song Lang.
Song Lang felt a pang of heartache, and of course, a little guilty.
Ultimately, his brother got beaten up because he stood up for him, and he'll definitely get a good scolding when he gets home.
"Speak up, what's going on with you guys?" Donald Duck entered the office, closed the door, and gestured towards Song Lang with his chin. "Aren't you a third grader? Why are you getting into a fight with second graders?"
Song Lang glared to the side, speaking through gritted teeth, "He bullied my brother, so I beat him up!"
The troublemaker wouldn't back down, and even in front of the headmaster, he was still arrogant, saying, "Is telling the truth considered bullying him? You're just looking for trouble and want to fight, come on, let's fight again!"
“Bring it on, who’s afraid of who!” Song Lang refused to back down.
Seeing that the two were about to fight like cockfighting, Director Tang didn't get angry and just watched them.
After a while, the office quieted down.
After all, no one would dare to actually make a move in front of the head of the teaching department.
Director Tang crossed his legs and said leisurely, "Let's get started. I'll be the referee. Do I need to blow the whistle for you?"
The troublemaker was the first to complain: "Director, he hit me first."
Song Lang appealed, saying, "Director, he spread rumors about my brother, that's why I beat him up!"
Little troublemaker: "Spreading rumors!"
Song Lang: "Yes, you're talking nonsense!"
After the physical contest ended, the debate began. Director Tang, annoyed by the two's constant chatter, slammed his hand on the table to end the verbal brawl.
“If you two say a few more words, the inspection will have to be hundreds more words long. Now, speak.” Seeing that the two immediately shook their heads and shut up, Director Tang turned his gaze to Shen Zhifei, who had been silent since entering the office.
The child was beaten black and blue, and it took him two minutes to recognize that this was the well-behaved student who had transferred to the school in second grade yesterday.
"Why don't you go to the infirmary first?" Director Tang said gently, his tone softening slightly in response to Shen Zhifei's appalling face.
Shen Zhifei stood in the corner with her head down, a schoolbag slung over her thin shoulders, looking both obedient and pitiful.
He bit his lip, shook his head, and didn't say anything.
Director Tang said, "Then tell me what exactly happened. Why did you get into a fight on your second day after transferring schools? Don't lie. I will have someone verify this later."
Shen Zhifei shook his head again, but his shoulders trembled slightly.
Song Lang stood close to him and could hear a faint sobbing sound beside him. The sound was very soft, like the helpless groans of the stray cat downstairs from his house after being run over by a car.
"Director, my brother is crying." Song Lang couldn't care less about writing his self-criticism anymore. He rushed over to see, and sure enough, Shen Zhifei was crying.
He was even angrier and pointed at the troublemaker, saying, "It's all your fault!"
The troublemaker wanted to retort, but remembering the self-criticism he was about to write, he swallowed his words.
Director Tang handed over a tissue from the table and asked, "Don't cry, tell the truth."
Shen Zhifei wiped away his tears, bit his lip, and took off his schoolbag. He took out a few crumpled and unusable pieces of paper and handed them to the head teacher.
Director Tang smoothed out the wrinkles and glanced at it. It was a certificate from the city's first-grade math Olympiad competition, awarded this spring.
Although Shen Zhifei's cries were soft, her shoulders were trembling, as if she might faint at any moment.
He sobbed intermittently, "This...this certificate was given to me by my parents that day. They were so happy, they said they would drive me to eat...eat pizza...but...but we didn't get to eat pizza, we...we were hit by a car..."
Director Tang glanced down at the certificate again, where faint traces of blood were still visible, and he couldn't help but feel a deep sorrow.