Wenhao refuses to be touched

The bag contained the letters from readers sent by Mr. Fudi that day, and I asked Salia to dress me up radiantly. I stepped on ten-centimeter high heels with a dozen or so mimics, and got off the car in a mighty manner accompanied by Mr. Gide.

This is the gate of the military police headquarters. Mr. Fukuchi was wearing a military police uniform and a long cloak, standing in front of a group of military police with a smile on his face. After watching me come down, he greeted me: "Yo~ Teacher Feiyin Come here, these boys and girls are all looking forward to hearing that you are coming, they are more neatly dressed than a blind date."

The soldiers and policemen behind him straightened their chests even more following his words, and looked at me with blushing faces. Their eyes were so hot that they could burn me to ashes, and the momentum that I had been brewing for a long time on the road was easily dissipated. Mostly.

I stretched out my hand, put it on Gide's shoulder, and said with a guilty conscience, "Well, do you have wheelchairs in your army?"

After a period of chaos, my feet were wrapped in thick gauze, and I was pushed into Mr. Forte’s office by Gide in a wheelchair. I received various looks along the way, and I heard the voice of someone calling for friends, just like in a zoo. Pandas are generally appreciated and commented on by everyone.

Although they all praised me, they just embarrassed me, very embarrassing, and wanted to find a hole in the ground and sleep in it for three days and three nights.

Mr. Fudi laughed at the side: "Ms. Feiyin is so well dressed today. It seems that no one can work with peace of mind today. If you are not used to wearing high heels, don't wear them. Your toes are bleeding. This is a woman's own creation. Torture?"

I wanted to cry, but said dryly, "I was wrong."

Gide disapproved and frowned on the side: "I told you earlier that the most important thing about a person is his aura, not his height. I threw away all the high-heeled shoes at home. You can only wear slippers when you go in and out until your feet are not healed."

I nodded humbly, not daring to refute.But still a little resentful and quietly glared at him. "I can't believe you didn't know I would become like this."

"This is the lesson that the teacher should learn." Hitting a hard nail, I tactfully begged for forgiveness.

Mr. Fudi welcomed me into his office, leaving only him, me and Mr. Gide in the room.I sat in a wheelchair and looked at this office. It is very spacious. There are military emblems hanging on the walls, and various medals are placed on the cabinets next to the walls.

"Can you still drink in the office?" I pointed suspiciously at the wine cabinet that occupied one wall, and the eyes that looked at Mr. Fudi were not quite right.

His face flushed, and he quickly walked over and closed the door of the wine cabinet, and locked it. "Don't tell me, teacher, I usually lock it properly. Didn't the teacher notify me when I'm almost here? It's a mistake."

"Don't make a mistake, drink and make a mistake, and you will lose your life." I said meanly.

Mr. Fudi paused, turned his head and looked down at me with deep eyes. I deliberately pushed the wheelchair to a distance of half a meter from him, and stared at him with my head up.It was as if electricity was coming out of both of our eyes, converging in the air, crackling, and the silent battlefield of gunpowder.

Three minutes later, Mr. Fukuchi took a step back, rubbing his bloodshot eyes and begging for mercy: "I lost."

I felt relieved, and raised my head to ask Mr. Gide to drip tears on me. He was unskilled, so he dripped a few drops on the outside of the eye sockets. There were two dark tears.

Here's my reflection in the glass door on the cupboard, whimpering that Saria had powdered me too much, or it wouldn't have been.I couldn't care less about this idea, I laughed and approached Mr. Fukuchi with a wheelchair.

He retreated steadily and was forced into a triangular corner by me, so he simply sat down on the ground.I thought about it and climbed out of the wheelchair. We sat cross-legged on the wooden floor with a distance of tens of centimeters between us.

I took out the envelope from my bag, slapped it on the ground, and said to him, "Explain!"

Mr. Forte was not surprised at all. "Who did the teacher know about the book?"

"Huh? Do you think I'll tell you?"

He stared at me for a few seconds, then sighed in resignation. "Okay, okay, if the teacher really wants to keep it secret, others won't be able to see it." He turned his head and said to Gide behind me, "Gide, go to my wine cabinet and get a bottle of good wine. There are peanuts in it." Bring it here too, I want to chat with the teacher."

I turned to Gide, who was speechless, and said, "Take out all his wine, we don't use the glass, we blow on the bottle!"

Mr. Forte refused. "No, many of them are good wines from my collection!"

"I will pay you double! I have a lot of good wine!"

"Oh, that's fine."

Mr. Gide couldn't hold us back, so he took the key thrown by Mr. Fudi, took out all the wine in the wine cabinet, opened the lid neatly and put a bottle in front of us each.I looked at the 'big tyrant' in Mr. Fudi's hand, and then at the 'chunmei wine' in my hand, and slapped the floor and cursed: "What do you mean, are you looking down on me? There is no 50 degrees that don't fit in my mouth!"

"The teacher is really a hero of the girls' school, come and give the teacher a 'big tyrant'!" Mr. Fukuchi applauded and cheered.

Two hours later, Mr. Fudi and I were holding a plastic bucket and vomited.Mr. Gide put on a gas mask and offered us two sober teas. I saw Mr. Fudi push it away. Of course I couldn't lose to him, so I also refused.

Picking up a bottle of wine in my hand, I managed to distinguish Mr. Fudi's real body from among the [-] spinning heads. The bottle slammed over: "The real man will continue to belch~ drink! Whoever gets down first will be the grandson!"

Mr. Fudi's voice came from the other end of me: "Drink! Drink!"

Mixed with Mr. Gide's helpless sigh: "You have already drank all the wine, please stop making trouble. Teacher, you are facing a samurai model, and Mr. Fukuchi, you are holding your own military boots."

When the two of us really regained our senses, it was already dark. Mr. Fudi and I cleared our breath with a mint-flavored lollipop in our mouths, sat on the sofa for receiving guests, and looked at each other with a drunk face.

I think I'm already sober, but my words are a bit tongue-in-cheek: "Li...the mud is not worth Dao Lei, cheating spicy New Year's meal (You, you are not kind, it is so miserable to cheat my old lady.)"

Mr. Fudi poked his neck and said: "It seems to be a hot test, Mr. Nibu, I'll take more time off. (It's the teacher, you don't know how long I have been working overtime.)"

The two of us chattered back and forth with our tongues open, probably due to a tacit understanding of drunkenness, but we could still communicate anyway.We had a cordial dialogue on the responsibilities of both parties, specifically:

Me: As for the fans who agreed, you black fan not only gave me blades (pages), but also poured water into the army, almost breaking up my family, old man!

Fudi: You sent most of the hidden piles I cultivated so hard to the execution platform, and the rest stabbed me backhandedly to join the Yinxin religion. I haven't settled this matter with you yet!

Me: I don't care about you, you are self-inflicted.

Fudi: Teacher, if you haven't been beaten to death for your temper, it's God's eyes.

In fact, I didn't quite understand it in the end. Anyway, I didn't ask any of the things I was going to ask. I guess Mr. Fukuchi is similar.In the end, we shook hands and made peace. He said that he would not play tricks in the future, and it depends on what kind of smog I can make the world. I said that you just keep your eyes open and watch that you don’t kill yourself one day, and you can’t see the new world. .

When I was about to wake up from the wine, I let Gide carry me into the wheelchair, and when I was about to go out, Mr. Fudi's voice came from behind.

His voice was hoarse, and he didn't know what he was thinking of. I felt as if he was crying with his back to me.

"This world is rotten. Teacher, you can't understand what happened to me."

"I don't need to understand." I said, "I can't see through a person's life. Everyone has their own way to go. Whether it is good or bad, only you know the taste. Me, my ideal It’s just a matter of creating a world where my children can grow old happily and laughing according to their own heart.”

"Haha..." Mr. Fudi's voice was so low that I couldn't hear it clearly.His voice was too ambiguous, "That's really a selfish and great ideal. Happiness... original heart... how difficult it is for the two to achieve."

After waiting for a while, when there was no more sound coming from behind, I was about to leave when Mr. Fukuchi's voice came again.

To be honest, a little impatient.Angrily, I turned the head of the wheelchair, trying to bump into the ink-blot ghost who talked nonsense, but instead ran into the scene where Mr. Fudi was drawing a knife.

I saw that Gide didn't move, so I was going to see what monster he wanted to do.

In the end, he pointed the blade at his stomach! ! "Wait, calm down, Mr. Fudi, don't cut seppuku, this painful and outdated way of death, you can't die for a long time, you might as well shoot yourself in the head."

With tears on his face, Mr. Fudi wailed and said, "Why can't I help but respect you knowing that the teacher is such a scumbag!"

"You're ready to dissect me!" I yelled at Gide angrily, "Give me the gun, I'll kill him!"

Gide looks at the sky and the earth, but he doesn't look at me.There is no way, I, a semi-disabled person in a wheelchair, can only hold Mr. Fudi's hand, take his knife away with all my strength, throw it into the toilet attached to the office, and flush it several times. He didn't flush the knife away, but he made a show of it.

"Mr. Fudi, the toilet is full of your mosaic vomit. If you are not afraid of getting dirty, you can continue to use it."

Mr. Fudi sat on the desk and said depressingly: "There is also the teacher's mosaic vomit inside."

"No, the stinking man is a mosaic, mine is a pink rainbow."

I felt that discussing this stuff was too embarrassing, and we both avoided this topic tacitly.Mr. Fudi patted his thigh and said, "Let me be clear in advance, that peace literature award was created by me." He pointed his thumb at himself with a proud face, and I wished I could break all his fingers.

"But..." He pointed his thumb at my bag, which contained the envelope I had stuffed back. "I used a book to do that before, but I picked up the page for the teacher."

"What do you mean?"

Mr. Fudi stroked his beard and said slowly: "One day I was drunk, my mind was not clear and I fell into the river. I was floating and saw a piece of paper head-on, which was the broken page of that book. I studied it. , it has been used, but there is no word on it, and I wonder what it does."

I blinked and spread out a hand. Gide put the gun in my hand knowingly, and loaded it thoughtfully.I shot at Mr. Fudi mercilessly, and he was so scared that he ran around screaming in pain, but even if he was hit, the bullet still didn't leave a trace on his body.

It can be said to be very hard, and the defense of this skin is stronger than that of a bulletproof vest.

I returned the gun to Gide and said to him, "Alright, since you don't even understand something, I'll find a way to figure it out."

Mr. Fudi smiled sinisterly: "It's so reliable, I thought of the teacher right away."

I rolled my eyes, didn't want to bother him, and asked Mr. Gide to push me away.When I got into the car, I asked Salia to stop halfway on the way back, and I limped out of the car and jumped in front of a trash can.

"Is this the dry garbage that the cleaners will send to be incinerated later?" I asked, pointing to a half-full trash can.

After getting an affirmative reply, I tossed the envelope in.I clapped my hands, and asked someone to find some dry garbage to cover it, and then got into the car without any regrets. In the car, I said to Mr. Gide triumphantly: "Mr. Fukuchi must not know, Ayatsuji-chan told me , this torn page has been used too many times, it can no longer be recycled, and it will be gone if it is burned with fire, even if it is taken by someone, there is nothing to be done."

In my eyes, the stuff that he is facing the enemy is just like ordinary waste paper.As for why I didn't burn it myself with a lighter... I don't want it, it was obviously pushed to me without authorization, who knows if I burn it will have any effect on myself, let the garbage dump worry about it.