Chapter 49 — Come Find Me Tomorrow
The Blossom Guardian · Page 2 of 2
"Mr. Gu said he would come back at once, and that everything should wait until he returns," Uncle Qing said. "But he also said he has a vague guess as to who was behind this."
"Oh?" Wei Zhao was taken aback. He had not expected Gu Pengzhan to be so astute as to guess, so quickly, who the black hand behind it was.
The morning rush hour was over now, and the traffic on the road had thinned again. Very soon Uncle Qing drove the car to the gate of No. 1 City Middle School. Wei Zhao got out and waved to Uncle Qing.
Wei Zhao slung his schoolbag over his shoulder and stepped through the gates of No. 1 Middle School. The playing field was empty at this hour, save for a few students playing basketball — clearly the sort of delinquents who did not often attend class.
Thump — a basketball rolled in Wei Zhao's direction.
"Hey, kid, throw the ball over here," a long-haired student in black called out to Wei Zhao.
Wei Zhao was in a hurry to get to class — where would he find the time to pick up a ball for anyone? Besides, the basketball hadn't come to rest right at his feet; it was still some distance away.
"Damn brat, I'm talking to you — are you deaf?" Zou Ruoming was instantly annoyed. In this school, was there any student who dared ignore him?
Wei Zhao heard Zou Ruoming's cursing, and his brow knit slightly. He had never known who his parents were, not since he was small, but hearing that kind of insult still put him in a foul mood.
Wei Zhao slowly turned around and looked at Zou Ruoming. He pointed at him, then at himself — meaning, are you talking about me?
"Yes, you — what, are you deaf? I'll count to three. Throw the ball over here right now and we'll forget all about it. Otherwise, I'll damn well make sure you can't stay in this school." One look at Wei Zhao's clothes and Zou Ruoming knew he was just some poor student, so he spoke without the slightest restraint.
Wei Zhao said nothing. He walked straight toward where the basketball had rolled, bent down, and picked it up.
The pack of lackeys around Zou Ruoming let out a chorus of cheers. Zou Ruoming thoroughly enjoyed the feeling of others submitting at his feet; this sense of being the school's bully was deeply satisfying to him.
"Brother Ming's got real authority — one word, and that kid goes crawling to pick up the ball, and after being cursed out he doesn't dare squeak a peep," one of Zou Ruoming's hangers-on praised sycophantically.
"Hmph, just some poor student," Zou Ruoming said smugly. "In this school, the person who dares cross Zou Ruoming hasn't even been born yet."
Wei Zhao stood up, cradled the basketball, and turned toward Zou Ruoming. Zou Ruoming struck a pose ready to catch, gesturing for Wei Zhao to toss the ball over.
Looking at Zou Ruoming's preening attitude, the corner of Wei Zhao's mouth curved ever so slightly. He raised his hand suddenly, and the basketball flew from his grip, hurtling toward Zou Ruoming.
Of course, Zou Ruoming had no idea that danger was closing in on him. He was still striking that cocky catching pose, both hands held out in front of him, ready to receive Wei Zhao's throw.
Thump — the basketball slammed into Zou Ruoming's hands. At first, Zou Ruoming was secretly pleased with himself for catching the ball from such a distance, and the pack of lackeys around him all let out cheering, fawning cries: "Brother Ming's so cool — he's like a new Jordan!"
Zou Ruoming was just about to say "Damn right" — but before he could get the words out, he sensed something was wrong. The basketball struck his hands and showed no sign of stopping at all. He felt as if what had hit his hands was no basketball at all, but a shot put.