Hunting High School

The dormitory in the afternoon is a quiet dormitory.

The birds outside the window chirped lazily in the midday heat, eyes half-opened, and nodded leisurely among the branches; the orange cats huddled together, lying on the desk, squinting their eyes, enjoying the comfort day after day; The elves folded their wings and hung on Zheng Qing's curtains, like hibernating tree sperm.

There were only two figures in the dormitory.

Zheng Qing was leaning on his bed, rolling the brass medal of Merlin between his fingers, staring at a small black stain on the ceiling, thinking about something.

Xin Fatty was half lying on the desk, flipping through the heavy documents in his hand with a sleepy face, as if he could fall asleep at any time.

Maybe it's to divert attention and make myself more awake.

Maybe it's just that he just can't get used to the brass medal that repeatedly appeared in his field of vision.

Xin Fatty widened his fleshy, blistered eyes, and hummed in a drawn out voice, "How long are you going to play with that little piece of copper! Finished last week's homework?"

Zheng Qing ignored his noisy, just blinked his eyes.

"I remember that the latest stage Lao Yao gave you is this Friday..." Fatty raised his stubby fingers and bent them down one by one, reminding: "Today is Wednesday noon...you still have two and a half days time to make up homework."

The young public finance student finally gave up thinking about life and the world, sighed deeply, and looked away from the ceiling, and landed on Fatty beside the desk.

"Isn't it good for you to read your own book with peace of mind..." He said weakly: "Where did they go, do you know?"

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"Not good, not good at all. Especially when you are still playing with your bronze medal." Xin Fatty shook his head, but still answered Zheng Qing's question very kindly: "The great doctor is not here own bed, it must be in the library... As for Dylan, I lifted his curtain before, the coffin was tightly covered, I don't know if there is anyone inside... Do you want to open it and have a look?"

Zheng Qing turned his head, the scarlet velvet curtain of the vampire werewolf was tightly closed, and there was no sound from inside.

He quickly looked away and shook his head vigorously.

"No thanks."

"I think so too." Fatty pulled out a small box of grapes from the watch, picked one and threw it into his mouth, and said vaguely, "I always think that respecting other people is a basic moral standard."

The grapes in the box have been washed, and there are still a few drops of crystal water on the purple-black skins, shining in the sun with a clear luster.

This made Zheng Qing's index finger wide open.

He turned over and got out of bed, pulled his shoes, rubbed to the desk, unceremoniously grabbed a few fruits, and stuffed them into his mouth.

"I never knew, you actually know the code of ethics!" The young public fee student snorted in a mocking tone, "Who used my name to trick the little girl into taking a photo these two days, and then collected a lot of papers?" Crane came back? Huh?!"

Xin Fatty blinked quickly, and smiled without any excuse.

Zheng Qing sighed deeply again, grabbed the fruit box from Fatty's hand, and buried his head in it.

Sim Fatty shrugged laboriously, and pulled another box of fresh fruit from his own watch.

"What does it feel like to be a hero?" He pushed Zheng Qing, who had buried his head in the fruit box, and asked suddenly.

Zheng Qing raised his head blankly, smacked his lips, and a drop of grape juice slowly flowed down from the corner of his mouth.

"Hero?" He chewed on these two interesting words, and laughed at himself: "It seems to be true... I remember that I have explained it to you more than once..."

"Yes, yes, yes, I know, you are not a great hero who suppressed wild monsters, but a shivering little white student hiding in the 'Guardian of Oster'." Fatty helplessly interrupted Zheng Qing's explanation again, turning over Rolling his eyes, he emphasized: "The point of my words is to feel... Do you understand the feeling? That is... the kind of mental state that you will feel very happy and excited if Irina accepts your skirt now. !"

This example made Zheng Qing's mood a little worse.

He roughly pulled out a tissue, wiped the juice from the corner of his mouth, and said nothing.

Rather than being upset by Fatty's words, he was a little dazed by Fatty's question.

Becoming a hero didn't bring about drastic changes in Zheng Qing's school life.

To be precise, he is still an excellent public-funded student in the eyes of everyone.

Only a little brighter.

Except that he takes time to accept an exclusive interview with the school newspaper at noon on Tuesday, everything is still the same as before, except that he often encounters students asking for autographs and group photos on campus.

Of course, in the dormitory, everyone's topic for several days has always been around the brass medal.

These things made Zheng Qing gradually forget the embarrassment of being rejected by the First University Student Union, and ignored the headache that hadn't recurred for some days-of course, he is still thinking hard every day about how Meditation sent that skirt out .

Thinking of this, he honestly replied: "I don't have any special feelings... It's just that it's annoying recently."

"Oh, don't be so perfunctory..." Xin Fatty wailed: "I promised Linda to write an interview...you have to say something different."

"Linda?" Zheng Qing raised his eyebrows: "The reporter from the school newspaper wearing silver high heels?"

"Did you only pay attention to this?" Xin Fatty raised his head, showing two nostrils, and said sarcastically: "I thought that as a hero, you would pay more attention to something different..."

"for example?"

"Such as connotation! Such as thought! Such as heart! Not superficial hairstyles, clothing, and grooming!" Xin Fatty waved his arms with a heartbroken expression.

"That's very connotative." Zheng Qing raised his eyelids and looked at his own roommate carefully: "It's easy to make people suspect something... But that's right, as a German, that blonde beauty is indeed It should be very to your taste."

"The taste of fart." Fatty fell down on his bed in frustration, and his tone was full of sadness: "Do you think that kind of goddess will focus on me... I'm just trying to join the school newspaper, and I need an article It's just a suitable manuscript."

"I thought the club's recruitment of new students ended yesterday." Zheng Qing was surprised.

Yesterday, Tuesday, was the last day of September, and it was also the day when all clubs at First University stopped recruiting new students.

Freshmen who did not participate in any clubs—such as Zheng Qing—no matter how good they are, they can only wait for the new moon next year before trying to re-submit their resumes.

"The school newspaper is not a club, but an office under the student union." Xin Fatty muttered, "You can understand it as an outsourcing agency of the student union... so there will be some flexibility in the rules of employment."

Zheng Qing originally wanted to ask why he didn't succeed in joining any clubs, but seeing the frustrated expression on Fatty's face, he finally gave up on stabbing him again.

"Okay." He leaned on the desk, sat up straight, and showed a serious expression: "Then, Mr. Non-famous reporter, you can ask any questions..."

As he spoke, he raised his right hand and looked at his watch with a fake look:

"My time is very tight. You only have three minutes to ask questions...Of course, because we are old friends, this time will be flexible."

"Hey..." Xin Fatty blinked, showing an eager expression: "I knew it, brother Qing is interesting."