The Wound In My Heart (Chen Shang)

CHAPTER 39

[good memories are in the sun, bad memories are always raining.] 】

straight up passage, at the end of a blue.

the closer you get, the more you can feel the scorching air waves and the noisy sounds.

when the summer sun is shining, the roof is only shaded by a small part of the stairwell, and the rest is exposed to the dazzling sun. i took the bento and went around to the side and saw the naked song bailao sitting cross-legged in the shadows.

the bite stopper was casually thrown on the ground, his back to me, revealing bruised flesh, and he was turning back to his shoulder and applying something hard.

noticing me, he raised his eyelids, and although there was no expression on his face, he could clearly feel his displeasure.

he glanced at me, and then he continued to medicate his swollen shoulders, as if i didn't exist.

in the past, when he was in a good mood, he would say two words to me, as if he really praised the dim sum i made, and talked about some of them. when i'm in a bad mood, i just don't say anything as a wall flower, and he will be suspicious of his eyes.

he now looks like he is not close to anyone, and he obviously cannot be easily provoked.

knowingly, i placed the paper bag containing the biscuits at the base of the wall a few steps away from him, ready to find another place to eat. just standing up straight, song bailao's voice behind him sounded lazily and slowly.

"come over and rub my medicine for me."

i stared at the gray wall in front of me, sighed darkly in my heart, looked at the lunch box in my arms, and placed it in the corner of the wall as well.

song bailao was notoriously fierce in fighting, and there were many of his men and losers inside and outside the school. although the school had a headache, because his family was well-established and his grades were good, he always chose to turn a blind eye. finally a lot of warnings, but there was no more severe punishment.

he was alone, covered in thorns, and no one dared to mess with him.

i thought he would always be on his throne, at ease, alone and alone.

as a result, he was beaten so badly. if i didn't dare to ask, i really wanted to know if he had been put in a sack in the dark alley.

the smell of the medicinal oil was spicy and pungent, and it was rubbed on his hand, and it was impossible to start with one of his injuries.

"it may hurt a bit."

he laughed out loud, "why, you're afraid i'll cry?" rub yours. "

this man's temper really stinks...

i reluctantly put both hands on it and landed on his swollen shoulders.

he shivered in an instant, and his muscles tensed up, revealing a distinct silhouette.

i paused there, waited a while to see him without stopping, and then began to rub vigorously.

after rubbing his shoulders, he didn't say a word, but a layer of sweat appeared in his neck, wetting the end of his hair, and he couldn't tell whether it was painful or hot.

i poured some more medicinal oil and began to wipe other places. shoulders, back, and then waist.

because the back of the waist was too close to the back, it was not easy to exert force with both hands, so i had to use one hand to support his uninjured shoulder, straighten up above the knee, next to him, and work hard from top to bottom.