When the squeamish bag penetrates the horror live broadcast [Unlimited]

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Qianling's voice is soft and waxy, even the most poignant words are wrapped in a layer of harmless honey.

The young and energetic boy seemed to have a calm expression, but the corners of his mouth were tightly pursed, his eyes were bloodshot, and the air pressure in his whole body was very low.

Qian Ling also realized that what she said was a bit angry at others, and when she was about to apologize, another voice came in.

"The people over there, what are you doing?" The head of the department saw the two of them clearly after approaching, and immediately frowned. committed.

The dean of the department waved to Qianling.

"You have nothing to do, what should you do?"

As soon as Qian Ling took two steps, she heard the dean of the department scolding her head and face. From her appearance to her test scores, it was just like a machine gun.

He didn't listen much and left.

Faced with the fierce artillery fire, Yan Zekai kept his mouth shut and said nothing, in a state of being distracted.

The dean of the department scolded: "Speak up, are you dumb? You have the guts to bully your classmates at school, but you don't have the guts to admit it?"

"I didn't bully him,"

Yan Zekai left this sentence, turned his head and left, but he walked in the opposite direction from his own class.

Before the dean of the department reacted, Yan Zekai had already walked into Class [-] of the third year.

He is tall, and it is very obvious when he walks in.

The students who originally thought that Qianling had returned, were all terrified when they looked up and saw this evil spirit.

I saw Yan Zekai violently rummaging on Qianling's desk. When the desk, which was already full of piles, was touched, it instantly collapsed like a snow mountain and collapsed towards a corner, and many gifts fell directly to the ground. .

And Yan Zekai's rummaging action also paused.

Just when everyone wanted to see what he was going to do, Yan Zekai walked silently to the back of the classroom where the trash can was placed.

Everyone gasped, but Yan Zekai went straight over the trash can and took the big new trash bag next to it.

When he turned around, the people who were still looking curiously lowered their heads quickly, and it was only when Yan Zekai didn't devote any energy to deal with them that he raised his head cautiously to see what he was going to do next.

He unfolded the garbage bag and mercilessly swept all the letters and gifts into the garbage bag, even those in the cabinet and those hanging on both sides of the table.

All I saw was that while Yan Zekai was doing all this, he seemed to have pulled out something and stuffed it into his pocket.

But his movements were so fast that he couldn't see clearly.

The dean of the department who came after him happened to bump into Yan Zekai who was walking out with a big bag of 'garbage' after packing up everything, and pointed, "What are you holding in your hand?!"

Yan Zekai didn't hide it, he stuffed the bag to the other party, and said calmly: "I helped you catch the puppy love seedlings, no thanks."

After finishing speaking, he walked away.

Leaving under the astonished eyes of everyone, Yan Zekai was not in a happy mood at the moment.

To be precise, it's not cool at all.

He crouched on the steps of the stairwell, took out the crumpled letter from his pocket, his mind was buzzing with the voice of the same person.

Yan Zekai's face was extremely hot. He tore the letter into pieces, stood up and threw all the pieces into the trash can, then turned around and strode upstairs.

After a few minutes, a figure came down the stairs, returned to the trash can furtively, and picked up the debris with his bare hands.

Zhou Qi only felt that Yan Zekai was not normal today, and asked him nervously if he had any glue, but after getting it, he disappeared.

on the rooftop.

Yan Zekai frowned, frowning, looking fierce and hateful, as if he could rush out to fight with others in the next second.However, upon closer inspection, he was lowering his head, burying his head in putting pieces of paper like snowflakes together carefully with his hands.

He shook his hand and cursed in a low voice.Then bury your head and continue to fight.

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Qian Ling came to the long-lost studio, only to feel the faint smell of paint and wood in the air.

"Qian Ling, you are here," the studio teacher said with a smile on his face, "Guess what good news I want to tell you?"

Qianling looked bewildered. "What %3F"

"Your painting has been shortlisted for the final, and I heard that the guests like your work very much. There is a high probability that you will win the gold medal in the competition."

The bewilderment in Qian Ling's eyes didn't decrease but increased, "What painting?"

"That's it."

The teacher called up the photos on the phone. He did have an impression of the photos on it, but in his memory, this painting had been rejected in the qualifiers. How could it still appear in the finals?

"Teacher, is there something wrong?" Qian Ling casually listed the basic and simple mistakes in the picture with his current perspective.

He didn't believe that the judges and teachers of the competition would not be able to see it.

"How can I make a mistake? I made a special phone call to confirm with them," the teacher said, "Be confident, as long as you win the prize, everyone will know your name. Isn't that good?"

"Teacher, do you really think this painting deserves an award?" Qian Ling asked.

The teacher affirmed: "Of course, you have to believe in the results of the competition. You are talented, let's start today's practice."

Qian Ling sat in front of the drawing board and couldn't help but start to be in a daze.

If he could win an award in an international competition, that was something he had imagined. He must show off his masterpiece to everyone, proving that the hard work of sharpening a pencil until his hands are sore is not in vain.

But now he can't be happy no matter what, it's like someone has put a layer of foam on the real coat, although the colorful and beautiful, but it will burst if you poke it lightly.

Everything is so fake.

Qian Ling was absent-mindedly sharpening the charcoal pencil, and suddenly felt a sharp pain in his fingertips. He looked down and saw a scarlet blood gush out from the wound%2C He subconsciously wanted to take out a tissue from his bag, but his movements suddenly paused.

He casually took out a charcoal pencil that had already been sharpened, and based on the graphics in his memory, what he drew on the paper was nothing but the summoning formation.

Before the last stroke was made, a voice suddenly sounded from behind, "What are you doing?"

Qianling was taken aback.

He turned his head, only to see the teacher standing behind him with a gloomy face, and asked that sentence again.

Qian Ling said: "I want to leave here."

"Why? Don't you want to go back to your normal life? It might even give you everything you could ever dream of,"

While speaking, the teacher in front of him turned into a few faces he was most familiar with, and opened his arms to him, "Xiao Ling, don't you want to live with us?"

"As long as you promise, you can live here forever."

Qian Ling blinked her eyelashes, "Stop lying."

They are all fake!