Chapter 67: The Invincible Brainwashing Technique

Inside the small security room, a silent standoff was underway. Ming Shuang and Teacher Xiao Yun remained quiet, neither willing to be the first to speak. As the only neutral party on this smokeless battlefield, the dormitory manager keenly sensed the tension between the young counselor and the student Ming Shuang. Using the excuse of inspecting high-powered electrical appliances, he quickly made his exit from the room.

With the old man gone, only Teacher Yun and Ming Shuang remained. After a long silence, Yun Ting finally spoke. “Don’t you have anything to say?” He shook his phone as he spoke; the screen still showed a WeChat conversation dominated by a red exclamation mark.

Ming Shuang glanced indifferently at Yun Ting’s blocked phone and replied calmly, “Yes, I did delete you from WeChat. After all, I bought the phone.”

Batian retorted, somewhat annoyed, “Can’t I occasionally think of something before you do?” Though his words were full of confidence, his eyes involuntarily drifted toward where Jun Yan was sitting.

“Haha, it’s no trouble, really,” Tang Fan laughed heartily, though he too was surprised by Xiao Fan’s bold action.

Sensing a flicker of anger from Ling Tai, Jun Yan quickly set aside his teasing and continued to send messages.

Tilting its head thoughtfully, the black cat seemed to have realized something, and its gaze suddenly grew strange.

He remembered many things and many people, even those glowing eyes reflected in the car window.

Xia Feng slumped into the chair, crossed his legs, and squinted, lost in his own thoughts.

Watching the retreating figure of Shen Tai, Brother Xu’s expression twisted with fury. He clenched his fists, baring his teeth in a threatening pose.

He narrowed his eyes at Xia Feng. “I like what you said, but I don’t think your idea is any good.”

Tong, ever the agreeable one, nodded with a smile, saying nothing more, though his expression made it clear he wholeheartedly supported Qi Fan’s idea.

The owner of that voice seemed able to see straight through Jun Yan’s heart, immediately speaking the very thoughts on his mind.

I quietly poked my head out and saw two men in plain clothes sitting near the cave entrance, both smoking.

That night, I drank late with Lyu Yao and the others. Many former colleagues had come. Amid laughter and reminiscence, I realized everyone was doing well. They brought up old stories and praised the courage and loyalty I’d shown by stepping up and taking responsibility back then.

I thought about the time I’d been in trouble, about the longsword that seemed to slice through space to land in my hand, and about Su Luo’s tone, which held no gravity but rather a hint of mischief. At that moment, Dog Egg forgot his dignity, leaving behind the solitary invincibility he had just felt.

Retreat and rout—though both involve moving away from the enemy, their meanings are entirely different. The former preserves formation, preventing the enemy from advancing at will; the latter is simply fleeing wherever the enemy isn’t, charging about blindly just to survive.

Danri was so frightened his soul nearly left his body. He clapped a hand to his nose and hurriedly backed away a few steps. His mouth and nose burned, his head spun, and the world seemed to tilt.

When I’d been wrapped like a mummy just now, the suffocating sensation made me instinctively fear I wouldn’t survive.

Yet, facing Ouyang Jing, none of it mattered. With a casual sweep of his sleeve, Ouyang Jing brushed aside the weapons and strode off, laughing heartily.

“Let me do it, Mom. You just hold my little brother.” With that, Hong Ying turned toward the kitchen, brought down the steel pot simmering porridge and steaming buns on the coal stove, filled the teapot with tap water, set it on the flame, and carefully sealed the stove to save coal.

Meanwhile, Wanwan, whom Du Gu Feng so admired, was curled up in a corner of her “mansion,” arms wrapped around herself, shivering as she watched Ouyang Jing. She looked like a lamb cornered by a wolf.

Liang Fang shook his head and sighed. “Uncle Mo, you really are too hasty. Early or late, death is death. Why not wait a little longer and leave together with us?” Then he glanced down, and only then did I notice the pocket watch in his palm.