Tang Junhe was in a daze, and was dragged away by Yang Xuan's arm. He was so frightened that he could not utter a word, or exert any energy. The act of trying to kill Zhou Lin just now exhausted all his strength and courage, and he dared not think about it at all. He almost became a murderer.

Cold sweat dripped down the corners of his forehead, soaking the hair on his forehead, they were clumps, and lay limply on his glistening forehead.

His two legs were so weak that he couldn't walk, and every step he took, he staggered to kneel on the ground. Yang Xuan could only stand still, stretched out his arms to embrace him, and supported him to walk forward a few steps , and felt that the speed was too slow, so he let go of Tang Junhe, squatted down with his back to him, turned around and said, "Come on."

He stood up with Tang Junhe on his back, and his half brother lay limply on his back, his whole body was cold. The ribs on their chests and the spines on their backs were pressed against each other, and the hard bones of the teenagers rubbed against each other as they walked, causing some pain, but no one said a word.

Yang Xuan heard his younger brother cry, the voice was low, as if deliberately suppressed, with endless despair and grievances, his shirt was wet with tears, and the wet and warm liquid flowed through the thin fabric onto his back.

What has he gone through, why would he rather kill that person than ask himself for help? Didn't he tell his mother, or Yang Chengchuan? Hasn't he been raised by his mother as a little princess? Countless questions rushed into Yang Xuan's throat, he had never had such a strong desire to speak, but he swallowed those questions back, silently listening to his brother lying on his back and whimpering softly , like a cornered animal.

Walking to the bicycle that fell on the ground, Yang Xuan put Tang Junhe off his back, first helped up the bike, and then helped Tang Junhe, who was crying with snot and tears all over his face, to sit on his seat . He dug out a pack of facial tissues with only two or three sheets left from his pocket, stuffed them into Tang Junhe's hands, and then rode on the bike, with one foot on the pedal and the other on the ground.

Fearing that Tang Junhe would not be able to catch himself, he turned around and grabbed the arm covered under the school uniform and pressed it on his waist, then maintained this posture, and rode home with one hand on the front of the bike.

Riding to the entrance of the corridor, Tang Junhe, who had been crying all the way, had already recovered. He jumped off the seat by himself and stood by the side waiting for Yang Xuan to lock the car.

After locking the car, Yang Xuan glanced at him, seeing that his mood had stabilized, he didn't say much, walked around him and walked in front. After walking two steps, Tang Junhe behind him suddenly made a sound, with the moisture that had not completely faded, and whispered: "I don't want to go back."

Yang Xuan stood still, turned around and looked at Tang Junhe who was still standing there, without making a sound.

"I, I can't go back." Yang Xuan's expression looked a little fierce, Tang Junhe knew that he was troubled, so he explained in a low voice, "My mother will see that something is wrong with me, and she will keep asking me, what should I do?" cannot…"

Yang Xuan interrupted him: "Didn't you tell her?"

Tang Junhe stood there as if he had done something wrong, gave a low "hmm", and then added: "Or you go back first, I'll wait..."

His beautiful cat-like eyes were wet from crying, his nose was red from crying, his hair was messed up by the wind, and he looked embarrassed and pitiful, just standing in the corridor at a loss Here, it reminded Yang Xuan of the day when he saw him for the first time when he was a child - he cried much more than this time.

"Then where are you going?" Yang Xuan stared at him, then spoke again.

"I don't know," Tang Junhe said hesitantly, tugging at the cuff of his school uniform, "I want to take a bath." He wanted to wash off the disgusting saliva Zhou Lin left on his neck and face, the smell of alcohol Even if the smell was blown all the way by the wind, it still seemed to linger around him lingeringly.

Yang Xuan irritably raised his hand and scratched his hair, frowned at him for a moment, said briefly "you wait here", then turned and went upstairs.

Tang Junhe stood in the corridor, listening to the sound of "thump, thud, thump" when Yang Xuan stepped on the stairs. He didn't know what Yang Xuan was going upstairs to do, but Yang Xuan told him to wait here, and he waited motionless. with. Yang Xuan always asked him to stand there and wait before, and he would run back to find him after a while, and it must be the same this time.

***

Yang Xuan pushed open the door of the house. Tang Xiaonian was the first to hear the sound, and immediately turned to look over, and made a gesture to get up. Seeing that it was Yang Xuan, she sat back with some embarrassment: "Xiao Xuan came back so early today. what?"

Yang Chengchuan looked back at Yang Xuan, and said calmly, "You're back?"

Yang Xuan let out a "hmm", went back to his room without changing his shoes. He dug out his ID card from the drawer, put it in his trouser pocket, opened the door and went out.

"Just came back and went out again?" Yang Chengchuan's face darkened, looked at him and scolded, "Stop eating?"

"There are activities in the class." Yang Xuan threw out this sentence, regardless of Yang Chengchuan's complexion, walked to the door without much explanation, held the doorknob and opened the lock, thought for a while and added, "We two Come back later." When he said this, he didn't turn his head, and Tang Xiaonian realized that his son Tang Junhe was also included in the sentence "both of us" when he went out.

Yang Xuan came down from the stairwell and saw Tang Junhe standing at the door of the corridor, holding a used facial tissue in his hand. The sky is still overcast, perhaps there will be no rain at all tonight.

He saw Tang Junhe with his back to the darkness, facing the bright lights of the corridor, his eyes fixed on him. It was an indescribable expression that made him want to avoid it.

"Let's go." After Yang Xuan said these two words, he walked ahead without looking back.

Sure enough, Tang Junhe quickly followed, walked beside him half a step behind, turned to look at him and asked, "Where are we going?"

Yang Xuan didn't speak, just copied his pockets, his steps were big and fast, and he didn't have any intention of slowing down and waiting for Tang Junhe.

Tang Junhe also followed closely, no matter how fast Yang Xuan walked, he was only half a step behind him. After walking for a while, he asked again: "Is it far?"

Yang Xuan still didn't speak, and walked forward as if he had never heard of it. Tang Junhe stopped asking and followed him silently.

After walking for more than ten minutes, Tang Junhe didn't know where Yang Xuan was going to take him until he reached the door of the place—Garnis Hotel.

Yang Xuan wants to take him to open a room.

Tang Junhe had never stayed in a hotel before. He followed Yang Xuan to the front desk, looked at Yang Xuan curiously and took out his ID card and bank card, handed them to the waiter and said, "An hourly room."

The waiter's eyes swept over Yang Xuan's face, and then Tang Junhe's face—the two outstanding teenagers standing together are really eye-catching. One of them has a stern and sharp face, and a little irritability is revealed between the slightly frowned brows, and the other looks embarrassing but surprisingly beautiful. At first glance, they are indeed somewhat alike, but upon careful examination, it is hard to tell where the alike is.

Yang Xuan took the room card from the waiter and walked towards the elevator on the left without looking at Tang Junhe. After entering the elevator, he still didn't look at him. He just copied his pocket with one hand and held the room card in the other. He leaned against the side wall of the elevator and looked down at the words on the room card.

Tang Junhe really wanted to ask him if he often came to open the house, because he seemed to be familiar with the road, but he felt that Yang Xuan would not answer his boring question, so he didn't ask.

He sniffed, followed Yang Xuan out of the elevator, and watched him open the door with his key card.

"Go wash it." Yang Xuan inserted the room card into the power outlet, went in and sat on the bed, took out the phone and fiddled with it with his head down, not wanting to talk to Tang Junhe.

"I want to borrow your mobile phone." Tang Junhe walked to him and said.

"She knows you will go back later." Yang Xuan said flatly without raising his head.

Tang Junhe keenly noticed that "she" refers to his mother Tang Xiaonian, and many things between them need not be explained too clearly.

He didn't say anything more, turned around and went to the bathroom, closed the door, took off his clothes, and rinsed his body under the rushing nozzle. He squeezed a lot of shower gel and rubbed the place that Zhou Lin had touched repeatedly, with such force that it seemed that he wanted to gouge out that piece of flesh completely.

Tang Junhe took a bath for half an hour before coming out of the bathroom.

When he came out, he saw Yang Xuan was sitting on the sofa by the window, holding the knife with no expression on his face, the sharp blade shone coldly under the incandescent lamp.

When Tang Junhe saw this knife again, he felt faintly afraid. He thought of the scene in the evening, and his arms tensed again. He thought that he might never be able to pick up that knife and kill Zhou Lin again. His courage and determination were exhausted at that moment, but what else could he do?

He looked at Yang Xuan, who obviously knew that he had come out, but did not respond. He walked over, sat down on the bed opposite Yang Xuan, looked at him for a moment, and then asked, "What are you thinking?"

He was ready for Yang Xuan to ignore him, but after a few seconds, Yang Xuan spoke. He looked at the knife and said, "I'm wondering if this knife can kill people."

Tang Junhe's heart trembled, he didn't know what Yang Xuan meant by that. The tenderness of an hour ago seemed to have disappeared at this moment, and Yang Xuan became the Yang Xuan he didn't know again. Will he regret stopping himself? Tang Junhe pursed his lips and looked at him uneasily.

Yang Xuan shifted his gaze from the blade of the knife to Tang Junhe.

Tang Junhe's eye sockets were still red, and the traces of crying became more obvious after being fumigated by the heat. Those wet eyes soaked with tears were very similar to the two black agates when he was a child.

The left side of his face was redder than the right one—as if it had been deliberately rubbed red. There was also a large patch of the same redness on his fair neck, and a bruise on his wrist, which was especially shocking under the light.

He put the knife on the table beside him, leaned his upper body towards Tang Junhe, put his elbows on his thighs, looked straight into his eyes and asked, "Why do you want to kill him?"