Chapter 61: The White-Haired Stranger

Young Master Feng’s efficiency was truly remarkable. It wasn’t long before he hung up the phone, informing us that Old Rooster had been successfully lured out and would be meeting us shortly.

The chosen venue was an exceptionally high-class restaurant. Young Master Feng had already reserved the entire first floor, demonstrating his meticulous planning. He reasoned that if negotiations went south and blood was spilled, at least no curious onlookers would report it to the police.

Over thirty people hastily finished their meal. The middle-aged man leading them made a call, and soon, six minivans pulled up to the entrance of the building. Their faces were expressionless as they lined up in front of the vans, sleeves rolled up.

Each man had a pocket on their waistband, concealing items like collapsible batons. Standing at the building’s entrance, I observed them, noticing no fewer than three daggers within moments.

I settled into the passenger seat of one of the minivans, idly gazing out the window. In the rearview mirror, five burly men stared blankly at the seatbacks in front of them, utterly silent.

The minivan’s windows were covered with one-way tint, making them appear like sunglasses. Usually, when I walked, I only focused on the path ahead, rarely noticing passersby. Now, however, I could freely observe the streetscape.

From inside the vehicle, the glaring sun transformed into a soft, direct, and non-dazzling light spot. The six minivans formed a quiet single file, waiting at a red light on the road. They looked suspiciously like a gang gathering its members for a showdown. Occasionally, pedestrians would glance over, then subtly avert their eyes.

The red light faded, the streetlights flickered on, and the cars slowly began to move forward.

Ahead of our vehicle, a black BMW led the way, with Young Master Feng seated inside.

Young Master Feng was an interesting character. He used to be quite fond of Dragon Brother, going to great lengths to pursue her. He even spent tens of thousands of yuan just to treat me to a meal, all to inquire about Little Dragon’s affairs.

Later, his unreliable elder brother physically assaulted him and implicated me. It was then, in that grimy billiard hall, that Dragon Brother appeared like a superhero, effortlessly beating those hooligans to a pulp.

I remember stumbling out of the billiard hall after her, my eyes swollen from the beating. Dragon Brother strolled ahead of me with a casual swagger, though her petite frame made her appear somewhat comical. That silhouette, it seemed, had remained unchanged for a very long time.

The car drove on in silence. I lazily watched the scenery outside, knowing that soon, I would be leading the men from these two minivans to chop off that dead rooster’s hand.

At such a moment, a normal person’s heart would likely be filled with either satisfaction or anger. Yet, as Dragon Brother lay in the ICU, I looked out the window, feeling no ripples within me. Instead, I found myself inexplicably reminiscing about the past.

Upon reflection, I too was once a good student. However, ever since I met Dragon Brother, various fights, big and small, had become a constant. Each time Dragon Brother thoroughly thrashed someone, she would saunter ahead, and I would follow, then we’d swagger into an internet café and spend the entire day playing games.

Thinking of Dragon Brother, my mind drifted back to my first year of high school.

I was still that serious, reserved good student. My academic performance was excellent back then; almost every monthly exam, the teacher would take my paper from my desk, walk to the podium, and read it aloud.

Without my paper, I would stare at my deskmate’s. He was a chubby boy, his face greasy from eating too much spicy food. He would squint at me, smugly covering his paper. Back then, there was nothing I could do but watch the podium as the teacher discussed my exam.

I recall that fat kid being incredibly annoying. His father was supposedly some mayor’s secretary, and he was always unbelievably mischievous, constantly bothering me. I was timid back then, with few friends and a rather quiet disposition. I always thought it was better to avoid trouble, that if I just hid, everything would be fine.

It wasn’t until one day, when he brought several tall boys in loafers to corner me in the school’s backyard for money, that I realized the problem wasn’t as simple as I’d imagined.

I disliked fighting, even detested it. My parents each gave me two thousand yuan a month for living expenses, which was a fortune to me at the time. Despite not being particularly careful with money, I had already accumulated a substantial amount in savings. They only ever asked for ten yuan at a time. Surrounded by a dozen people in the school’s backyard, I stood in the middle, looking rather wilted. I didn’t think much of it then; I just gave it to them.

Then one day, a white-haired person arrived at the school, and everything seemed to change.

I remember the day Dragon Sister first enrolled. She stood casually on the podium, her short hair disheveled, a faint glint in her eyes. Her entire demeanor was roguish, lazy, yet sharp—like a blunt instrument studded with blades. Her school uniform was worn loosely, sleeves rolled up, revealing rough arms. More importantly, she had a conspicuously flamboyant head of white hair that clearly violated school rules.

Whispers rippled through the classroom. The teacher, standing beside her, cleared his throat twice. She scratched her arm impatiently, then bowed earnestly to the class, saying, “Hello everyone, my name is Bai Hailong, and I’ll be your classmate from now on!”

The students exchanged bewildered glances; not a single person clapped. She didn’t seem to care, nonchalantly stepping down from the podium and turning to ask the teacher, “Where do I sit?”

The teacher was an elderly man, who stared at her white hair with distaste. After a moment’s thought, he said, “You can sit with Lu Ren.”

She nodded indifferently, then scanned the classroom, asking, “Which one is Lu Ren?”

I sat in my seat, hesitating whether to raise my hand. The elderly teacher frowned, saying, “Tomorrow, before class, you’d better dye that white hair black for me. You kids, at such a young age, insisting on dyeing your hair white—isn’t that just asking for trouble?”

She chuckled, “Teacher, I just bleached it. If I dye it black again, it’ll surely fall out!”

The old man admonished, “I don’t care! You must dye it black!”

She pouted, nodding carelessly, then scanned the classroom again, “Who is Lu Ren!”

I felt the subtle gaze of the classroom gathering on me. I sighed. Frankly, I didn’t particularly want such a swaggering, somewhat inexplicable person as my deskmate, but remaining silent forever wasn’t an option. So, I raised my hand.

She glanced at me, nodded, and came down the aisle to my desk. My deskmate was still that annoying fat kid, who squinted his small eyes at her. Bai Hailong scratched her head and turned to ask the teacher, “Am I sitting next to him?”

“Yes,” the teacher sighed, waving his hand, “Chen Feng, you move to the back.”

Chen Feng was my previous deskmate. He clearly wasn’t happy about moving but reluctantly stood up. It wasn’t because he had a strong bond with me; it was because I was so timid back then. If they needed pocket money, they’d just ask me, and I’d give it to them.

Chen Feng began packing his things. I secretly breathed a sigh of relief. He packed his belongings with evident frustration, hugging his backpack, and moved to the window seat at the back. As he left, he deliberately bumped into the new student, Bai Hailong, seemingly quite annoyed. Bai Hailong, however, didn’t say a word, her gaze fixed thoughtfully on the window behind me.

“It’s going to rain.”

She muttered this without explanation, then sat down, placing her backpack on the desk and shoving its contents into the desk compartment.

I was startled, turning to look out the window. The morning sun was still bright, the sky still blue, adorned with a few clouds. It looked nothing like it was going to rain.

The classroom’s attention had returned to the front. The old man cleared his throat a few times, about to resume his lecture. At that moment, the principal entered from the doorway. The classroom’s murmurs grew louder. The old man immediately adopted a fawning expression, rubbing his hands together as he walked over. They whispered for a while, the old man nodding repeatedly. After a moment, he announced that this class would be self-study and then left for a meeting.

I was holding my book when I felt a small paper ball hit my head. I turned around to see Chen Feng and a few other boys huddled together, whispering and smirking triumphantly.

Feeling bored, I turned back around, only for a few more paper balls to hit my head. Their jokes were always so childish. I was wearing a hoodie, so I simply pulled the hood over my head. The paper balls bounced off the hood, and I felt nothing. I continued to read my book.

A self-study class without a homeroom teacher was essentially a student free-for-all. Some played cards, others took out makeup, while many used their phones. Various noisy sounds filled the air.

With my hood up, I pondered whether to greet the new student beside me. However, when I turned, I found that she had already taken off her school uniform, folded it into a pillow, and was wearing only a black T-shirt. Her messy white hair was buried in the makeshift pillow, and she was softly snoring.

I stared in momentary surprise, then lowered my head, returning my gaze to my textbook.

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