Everyone's been reborn, so who would bother finding a wife on their own?

Chapter 59 Hatred

The morning reading session had just ended, and the classroom was in a noisy state.

Some people were catching up on sleep at their desks, some were fanning themselves with their textbooks, and some were turning around to check answers with the people behind them.

Song Huan leaned back in her chair, staring blankly at the blackboard in front of her.

My mind was still on the note, on the girl behind me who was keeping her head down and not saying a word, and on whether I had been too harsh.

"Why is Wang Lei here?"

A voice came from the direction of the door, not loud, but the classroom fell silent for a moment.

Song Huan paused for a moment, then turned to look. Wang Lei was hurrying down the corridor, carrying a stick in his hand.

A broomstick, made of iron.

One end was polished to a shine, and it thudded as it sat on the ground.

"Wang Lei? The one who got beaten up by Song Huan before?"

"Yes, it's him. The thing about Lin Yue's mom seducing someone else's dad..."

The voices drifted in from all directions, low in volume, but each word was clear and distinct.

Everyone in the class was watching. Some were leaning on their desks with their heads tilted to the side, some had their textbooks halfway up and forgot to put them down, and some had a smirk on their faces, looking like they were watching a good show.

Lin Yue looked up and her face turned pale when she saw Wang Lei walking towards her.

The pen in my hand fell onto the table, rolled twice, and landed on the floor.

Wang Lei walked in.

He was wearing a school uniform, the zipper was undone, and the shirt was open, revealing a wrinkled T-shirt underneath.

He still had bruises on his face from a fight, but not from his father.

It was bluish-purple, and there were dark red scabs on the corners of its mouth.

His eyes were red and bloodshot, as if he hadn't slept for days.

The broomstick dragged along the ground, scraping against the tiles with a screeching sound.

"Lin Yue!"

Wang Lei got straight to the point, standing by the door like an angry lion, pointing a stick at her.

My fingers were trembling, the stick was trembling, and the metal rod was humming.

"Your mother, that shameless thing, seduced my father, and she caught him. She got three scratches on her face, and half of her face was covered in blood."

The classroom fell completely silent.

No one spoke, no one moved.

Some people held their breath, while others hunched their shoulders.

Lin Yue lowered her head, her lips were pursed white, and her hands gripped the edge of the table, her knuckles turning white.

Song Huan quickly stood up. "Wang Lei, let's talk this out..."

"Get the fuck out of here!"

Wang Lei turned his head, his eyes glaring as if he wanted to devour someone. "This has nothing to do with you! It's her mother!"

He pointed at Lin Yue, the stick almost piercing her face, "Her mother is shameless, and she's no better! Like mother, like daughter! A mistress's daughter is a mistress too!"

Lin Yue's shoulders were trembling, and she bit her lip, remaining silent.

Song Huan took a step forward. "This is an adult matter and has nothing to do with children. Your mother is injured, you should go to the hospital to see her, not come to the school to cause trouble."

"Shut up!" Wang Lei roared, his voice booming through the classroom, startling several girls who flinched.

"What the hell do you know? My mom's in the hospital, her face is all scratched up, and where's my dad? My dad's with that bitch! You want me to go to the hospital? If I go to the hospital, who's going to stand up for my mom?"

Song Huan looked into his eyes; they were red and wet.

That wasn't anger, it was pain.

When the pain becomes so intense that you don't know where to put it, it turns into hatred, and into the stick in your hand.

"Wang Lei!"

"I told you to get lost!"

Wang Lei suddenly raised his stick and rushed towards Lin Yue.

The stick was swung up, whistling through the air, and viciously struck the figure with its head down.

Without thinking, Song Huan's body reacted faster than her mind, and she took a step forward, blocking her way.

"Bang." The stick hit his back, the sound of iron pipe hitting bone was dull.

The pain exploded in my back, shooting up my spine, and my forehead went numb.

Song Huan groaned, bent over slightly, but didn't fall.

Someone in the classroom shouted, someone else covered their mouth, and everyone was stunned.

Wang Lei was also stunned; the stick remained raised in mid-air and did not fall.

Lin Yue looked up in shock. Song Huan was standing in front of her, with his back to her.

A grayish-white mark was left on his school uniform from being struck with a stick, running across his shoulder blade.

His back wasn't broad or thick, but it blocked out the light for her.

Suddenly, tears streamed down her face.

Then she stood up, and the chair slid back a bit, scraping against the floor tiles with a sharp sound.

She grabbed the back of the chair with both hands and lifted it up.

It's made of iron, solid, and a bit heavy.

She raised it above her head, her arms trembling, gritted her teeth, and hurled it at Wang Lei.

Wang Lei dodged to the side, but didn't completely avoid the danger.

A chair leg hit his shoulder, and he stumbled back two steps, bumping into the podium. The broomstick fell to the ground and rolled twice with a clatter.

He was stunned, looking at Lin Yue, at her face covered in tears, at her trembling hands.

The classroom was completely silent.

……

Principal's Office.

The principal sat behind his desk, looking at the three people in front of him, feeling a headache coming on.

Song Huan stood on the left, Lin Yue stood in the middle, and Wang Lei stood on the right, covering his arm.

None of the three spoke.

"It's you again." The principal sighed and picked up the phone to dial a few numbers.

"Teacher Gao, could you come here and take Song Huan and Lin Yue from your class?"

Then he dialed another number, "Wang Lei's homeroom teacher, come and pick him up."

Gao Xiao arrived very quickly.

She glanced at Song Huan, then at Lin Yue, and without asking any further questions, said, "Let's go to the infirmary."

Song Huan followed behind her, and Lin Yue followed behind Song Huan.

Sunlight streamed in through the windows in the corridor, and the three people walked in the shadows, none of them speaking.

The school doctor, a woman in her forties, looked at the bruises on Song Huan's back and pressed them with her finger.

Song Huan hissed.

"No bones were broken, just skin and flesh injuries. It will heal in a few days."

She handed Gao Xiao a bottle of safflower oil, saying, "Go back and rub it on him to disperse the bruising."

Gao Xiao took it, glanced at Song Huan, and said, "You're quite good at blocking."

Song Huan didn't say anything, but turned her head to look at the door.

Lin Yue stood at the door, head down, hands clutching the hem of her clothes.

Wang Lei was taken to the hospital.

The chair leg hit my shoulder, causing a fracture; I need a cast.

When Wang Lei's mother and father received the call, they immediately rushed to the inpatient department.

When Zhao He received the call, she was at home applying medicine. The scratches on her face hadn't healed yet, and new ones had appeared.

Without saying a word, she went to the school, took Lin Yue away, and the two took a taxi to the hospital.

The hospital corridor smelled strongly of disinfectant.

The fluorescent lights shone a stark white, making people's faces appear bluish.

Zhao He sat on the bench, head down, her fingers twisting the strap of her bag.

Lin Yue sat next to her, with a seat between them, and neither of them spoke.

The door to the ward was open, and a man's voice came from inside, low and angry.

"How dare you show your face here?"

Zhao He trembled with fright, but still stood up and went inside.

Lin Yue didn't move. She sat in the chair, looking down at the tips of her shoes.

One of her shoelaces came undone, but she didn't bother to tie it.

"Mr. Wang, I'm so sorry..."

"Is 'sorry' enough? Look at my son!"

The man's voice suddenly rose, like a thunderclap.

Lin Yue looked up and peered through the crack in the door.

A middle-aged man stood by the hospital bed, his suit jacket off and tossed on a chair, his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing his thick forearms.

He pointed to the bed, where Wang Lei was lying in the hospital with his right arm in a cast and slinged to his chest. He also had old injuries from a fight on his face and looked very pitiful.

Beside Wang Lei was a crying woman, who was probably his mother, and she also had several bloodstains on her face.

Zhao He stood at the door, her back bent low.

"Mr. Wang, it's all my fault..."

"Of course it's your fault!"

Mr. Wang turned around, pointed at her face, and said, "You seduced me, my wife found out, she fought with you and got injured. My son was furious, went to your daughter's school, and got beaten up. Tell me, how are you going to settle this?"

Zhao He bent down even lower, "Mr. Wang, I'll compensate you however you want."

"Compensate?" Mr. Wang sneered. "Can you afford to compensate? My son's right hand, the hand he uses for writing, is fractured. The doctor says it will take at least three months to heal! Who will catch up on his studies during these three months? Will you take responsibility if it affects his high school entrance exam?"

He grew angrier as he spoke and took a step forward.

Zhao He was so frightened that she took a step back and bumped into the wall.

Mr. Wang raised his hand and slapped her across the face.

The sound was crisp and could be heard throughout the corridor.

Lin Yue shuddered, stood up, but didn't have the courage to walk to the door.

Zhao He covered her face, neither dodging nor crying. Her lip was cut, and blood dripped down her chin onto her shirt collar.

Mr. Wang glanced at his wife and, seeing that she didn't look up, became angry again. Without stopping, he slapped Zhao He again.

Then came the third and the fourth strike.

Zhao He huddled in the corner, covering her head with her hands. Her clothes were torn askew, revealing the purplish-blue marks on her neck from being strangled.

New and old, stacked together.

After hitting her, Mr. Wang kicked her again, this time in the calf.

She groaned and knelt on the ground.

"Get out! Your whole family get out!" Mr. Wang's voice echoed in the ward, and the glass on the bedside table trembled.

He pointed to the door, his finger trembling, "Don't let me see you again! You, your daughter, your whole family, stay away from my family!"

Zhao He got up from the ground, her hair was disheveled, her sweater was covered in dust, and her face was streaked with red and purple.

She walked out with her head down, not looking at Lin Yue.

The nurse had just come out of the next ward and was startled when she saw her like this.

"Big sister, you..."

Zhao He waved his hand, pushed her away, and walked forward.

She walked slowly, with a limp, her high heels clicking on the floor, tap, tap, tap.

Lin Yue followed behind, watching her mother's back. Her hair was disheveled, with a few strands stuck to her face.

The corridor was long, and the fluorescent lights shone a stark white light, illuminating the two people standing one in front of the other.

When Zhao He reached the elevator, he stopped and pressed the button to go downstairs.

The elevator doors opened, she stepped inside, leaned against the elevator wall, and closed her eyes.

Lin Yue walked in and stood silently beside her.

The elevator doors closed. The numbers jumped from five to four, then from four to three.

"Mom," Lin Yue replied softly in the elevator.

Zhao He did not open her eyes.

"I agree to transfer schools."

"Ding!"

The elevator arrived at the first floor and the doors opened.

Zhao He opened her eyes and looked at Lin Yue.

He stared for a long time, his lips moved, but he didn't say anything.

It was already dark when I walked out of the hospital.

The streetlights were on, casting long shadows of the two people.

Zhao He walked in front, and Lin Yue followed behind.

After walking for a while, Zhao He suddenly stopped and looked back at Lin Yue.

"Does it hurt?" The voice was hoarse.

Lin Yue was stunned for a moment, and Zhao He reached out and touched her face.

My fingers felt cool, paused briefly on the scabbed wound at the corner of my mouth, and then withdrew.

"Mom is asking about you. I'm sorry, Mom shouldn't have hit you yesterday."

Lin Yue shook her head.

Zhao He turned around and continued walking forward.

The streetlights cast her shadow on the ground, making her limp, her shirt collar askew, revealing bruises on her exposed neck.

Lin Yue followed and walked beside her. The two walked under the streetlights, their shadows close together.

The bus has arrived.

Zhao He got into the car, and Lin Yue followed.

There weren't many people on the bus; the last row was empty.

Zhao He sat down, and Lin Yue sat down next to her.

The lights outside the car window receded one by one, illuminating the carriage with varying degrees of brightness.

Zhao He leaned against the window, her eyes closed, it was unclear whether she was asleep or awake.

Lin Yue reached into her pocket and touched the small rubber band.

It's blue, and the butterfly wings are rough on my hands.

She held it for a while, then put it back.

Turning my head to look out the window, the street scene receded into the distance, streetlights flickering on and off, one after another.

Goodbye, Song Huan.