Monster Hunting High School

There is wind outside the window and there are branches.

The sun fell on his cheeks. Zheng Qing watched the shadows of the branches swaying in the sun. It seemed that even the sun was rippled by the wind. Lying in the sun was like lying in a warm hot spring. The warm sunshine was Slightly rippling spring water.

He opened his mouth and took a bite of the sunshine. It was soft and warm, like a marshmallow just taken out of the oven, but it lacked a little sweetness and was a little bitter.

Zheng Qing knew that the bitterness was caused by the remaining potion juice left in his mouth.

Subconsciously, the description in Tsvetaeva's poem drifted through his mind - the veins are filled with sunlight, not blood, I am alone, facing my own soul, feeling the wonder of life - of course, the original poem Not really, but the general content is similar.

It was like he was alone in the independent ward where he was at this moment. Apart from his own soul and the sunshine outside the window, there was no other existence to express his emotions.

Today is the seventh day since Zheng Qing woke up from a coma.

The guests and therapists in the ward came and went, and the sun rose and set outside the window. The only thing that remained unchanged was Zheng Qing, who was lying on the bed. He still couldn't draw much magic power from his body and looked extremely weak.

This state makes boys a little irritable.

He sighed deeply, raised his head, and looked at the familiar environment around him.

The ward is not big, about twenty square meters, and the interior decoration is mainly white, simple and elegant.

There is an exquisite lamp panel on the ceiling above the head. On the panel, several white candles of different heights are burning slowly, with light blue flames hanging down - the fire of this medicinal candle can ward off evil spirits, and the smoke can calm the mind. Not every ward is eligible.

There is a long table against the wall to the left of the hospital bed. The table is filled with fruit baskets and bouquets sent by visitors. There is a small coffee table and gray leather sofa on the right side of the door. On the coffee table is a thin-necked vase with a vase in it. A pile of fresh baby's breath.

Zheng Qing's attention did not fall on the light red flowers, but looked at the calendar next to the vase. Today's date was marked with eye-catching numbers on the palm-sized paper.

June 27th.

Lunar calendar, the fifth day of May (Run).

Dragon Boat Festival.

It is appropriate to receive certificates, pray for blessings, and offer sacrifices.

Taboo: Moving, moving into a house, or setting up a bed.

Only when he saw the word 'run' did he realize that this was his second Dragon Boat Festival this year. Last month's Dragon Boat Festival and the subsequent Care Day seemed like last year, blurry and distant in his mind.

But these are not the point.

The point is, today is the last day of the final exam for the 2008-09 academic year of First University, but Zheng Qing can only stay in the ward and cannot participate.

According to the school's original plan, the final exam was scheduled to be held in the 17th and 18th weeks of this semester, that is, from June 9th to June 19th.

Due to the Black Prison War and the invasion of the Kuroshio, the exam was postponed for one week to June 20th to June 27th, and the difficulty of the exam was adjusted accordingly, with reference to the students' efforts to resist the Kuroshio and other incidents. performance, greatly increasing the weight of practical aspects.

This is a fortunate thing for many students, such as Nicholas, who has been in the freshman class for three years and became the North District Wizard this year.

But for other students who are usually honest, study hard, obey the school's arrangements in the dark tide, and stay peacefully in the dormitory, the school's policy is not so friendly.

Of course, being unlucky or lucky has nothing to do with Zheng Qing.

He stayed in the ward and was unable to take practical exams. The only thing he could do was to clasp his hands and pray to the gods and Buddhas in the sky to bless the school to accept his appeal application.

A few days ago, with the help of his companions, he filled out an application form and applied for his performance in Dreamland and Hell War to be converted into practical points at the end of the semester. Because their final grades were involved, several hunters in the Forgiveness Hunting Team were very enthusiastic, but Zheng Qing had reservations about this.

Especially considering the slender red sky pillar he knocked down in the black prison, Zheng Qing became even more pessimistic - he didn't think that players who scored own goals could receive good reviews. Even worse, if the school asked him What should I do to recover the repair costs of Black Hell Castle? And the shocking casualty report...

Thinking of this, Zheng Qing slapped himself in the face, annoyed that he was so distracted that Fatty Xin encouraged him to fill out the application form.

If the school had ignored him before, but because of that application form, he re-examined his actions in the black jail, wouldn't it be like shooting himself in the foot - especially since he was also carrying a sentence of probation? It can be said that if the school ordered him to drop out based on this, he would not have much confidence to ask for a review.

He seemed to sense the wizard's impatience.

On the side of the hospital bed, in the slightly swaying sunlight, a rich black streak poked out several slender tentacles, like fingers, patting the boy's pillow comfortingly.

It's his shadow.

Since returning to school, the shadow that was originally bifurcated due to the two suns in the underworld has become single again, and its color has become richer and deeper. What remains unchanged is the shadow's activity, which is far more than that of an ordinary wizard. It is like a soul locked at Zheng Qing's feet. From time to time, Zheng Qing can clearly feel the shadow's thoughts and its anxiety.

He has actually been reduced to being comforted by shadows.

The young public-funded student thought in frustration, glanced at the slender black shadow fingers on the pillow, and suddenly felt a little more confident.

This is my own shadow!

In any case, his own shadow dragged a great wizard from the opposing camp to death. This was one of the best results in the Black Prison battlefield. From any angle, the school had no reason to kick such an outstanding student out of the school.

Just as he was thinking, those slender black shadow fingers were gesticulating quickly, as if in sign language, as if they wanted to express something to Zheng Qing.

"It's OK, it's OK."

This is not the first time. Zheng Qing waved his hands helplessly and emphasized: "I didn't wake up when she came, and she wasn't there when I woke up. It's useless for you to worry with me!"

Shadow hopes that Zheng Qing will find Su Shijun and cut it off from Zheng Qing's feet again. But on the one hand, the timing was always unlucky. Zheng Qing had not yet met Su Shijun after he woke up. On the other hand, before the school's final results came out, Zheng Qing didn't want to hand over the shadow so honestly, so he kept doing this. Dragging.

I don't know if he sensed the boy's different thoughts, but those slender shadow fingers twisted and turned into a paper crane, flying around in the sunlight.

It means asking Zheng Qing to take the initiative to contact Su Shijun.

"Ah...I'm so sleepy."

Zheng Qing blinked, yawned widely, stretched out his hand to pull up the thin quilt on his body, covered his head and began to take a nap, pretending not to see the hint of the shadow.