Chapter 10 Chapter nine

Man, why kill? The first type is to protect one's own life; the second type is to seize other people's property; the third type is to eliminate competitors for the purpose of possessing the opposite sex; the fourth type is to avenge others for various reasons; the fifth type is to execute superiors. The sixth is to kill for commission; the seventh is to kill without reason. What is my reason? This is something that Dead Poets has discussed, and I want to put it on my epitaph. On the morning of Monday, June 19, 1995, I was alive. The sun shone on the head of the bed, and I opened my eyes in a daze. Is it the third class?This is the first time I've slept in at school, and as a fired teacher, I've been disqualified from class.

I stepped on the stool and touched the ceiling, and pulled out the saber from a gap in the mezzanine—fortunately, it was not found by the police.The words "Factory 305" are engraved on the blade, and the spear-shaped tip with a blood groove.It was given to me by Lu Zhongyue two years ago. He is my best friend, a classmate in high school, and a roommate in this dormitory.His dad works in the district government, and he can often get strange things, such as special cigarettes and alcohol, military hook boots, smuggled watches and so on. The sharp blade gave off a cold light, like a strange-shaped mirror, which distortedly reflected my face, so ugly that I couldn't recognize myself.

I strap this knife into my trouser leg. There was no breakfast in the cafeteria, so I walked around the school and passed the classroom door of Class 2 of Senior Three. The math teacher on the podium saw me outside the window inadvertently and nodded slightly.Some students noticed this little trick and turned their heads to look at me.No one was reviewing with peace of mind anymore, and everyone whispered to each other, as if seeing a walking dead. Nanming High School has two teachers who graduated from prestigious schools, one is me from Peking University, and the other is Zhang Mingsong from Tsinghua University.He is seven years older than me. When I was still in high school at my alma mater, he was my math teacher. In terms of teaching level, he was naturally rated as a special teacher when he was less than thirty years old.The students he leads have excellent grades, and mathematics is the best score in the college entrance examination. Every year, many parents line up to make appointments with him for make-up classes.

I straightened up and stood outside the classroom, watching the students coldly. Two weeks ago, I was their head teacher and the instructor of the Nanming Literature Society.The windowpane reflected a haggard and sullen face, like the man seen in a nightmare.I stared at my favorite boy, Ma Li, who was avoiding my gaze, with a sad expression on his face.Although, after the end of the college entrance examination next month, they will go their separate ways, but saying goodbye in this way in advance will always inevitably cause the eyes to feel hot. Standing at the door of the classroom, in front of all my students, I almost cried until Zhang Mingsong came out with an ugly face and said, "Sorry, Teacher Shen, you have affected my students in class."

"sorry, see you again." When I went downstairs, I was very heavy, with the beaded chain in my trouser pocket, and a saber with a bloody groove tied in the leg of my trousers. June 19, 1995, the last Monday of my life, and the last night. Taking off the watch that Gu Qiusha's father gave me, I ate my last supper in the cafeteria.Masters also like to see The murderer looked at me like that, and none of my classmates or teachers dared to sit next to me, at least ten meters away.However, I ate large pieces of meat contentedly. I used up all the meal tickets I was reluctant to use, and burped several times in a row.

At half past nine, thunder rolls faintly in the night sky. Stern is still at school, chatting with people downstairs in the dormitory, looks good, laughs obscenely from time to time, and smokes a cigarette by himself after speaking.He didn't go to see my dormitory, probably because he was afraid of being beaten again, so he patted his clothes and walked out of the school gate.I hid myself in the shade of a dark tree and followed him to Nanming Road.He was going to the bus station, but I couldn't let him go there. Once he got to a crowded place, there would be no chance to strike. There are no street lights on Nanming Road, and there are no people around. There are dots of lights in front of you, which are half-closed steel factories.I took out the sharp knife in the leg of my trousers and followed with my breath held.Just when Yan Yan heard footsteps and was about to turn around, I drove the knife into his back.

Damn it, I practiced countless times last night, and hit the opponent's back vest with a knife, but in the chaos of the night, I couldn't see where the stabbing went.I just feel that the tip of the knife encounters a lot of resistance, and I have to use more force to go deep.Then I heard a stern and dull cry. I didn't expect him to be so strong, like a dog about to be hanged, he turned violently and grabbed me, and the blood burst into my face. In the past, I always thought that killing people in movies was easier than killing chickens, but when it was my turn to do it myself, I realized that killing a person was so difficult.After a thrilling sixty seconds, Stern fell to the ground and stared at me.I panted and bent down, wondering what happened to my face?I thought it was just as scary as him.

Suddenly, a few drops of rain hit the top of the head, and in a moment, pouring rain poured down. The cold raindrops dissipated the heat in the capillaries, and the secretion of adrenaline stopped. In an instant, I regretted a little. Man, why kill? Only then did I feel inexplicable fear, which was even more terrifying than being put on the execution ground. On the unlit Nanming Road, I can hardly see my fingers, but I know who I am strictly.He coughed violently, with blood dripping from the corner of his mouth, and said, "Shen...Shen...I...I swear...I...haven't...haven't... harmed...you..."

The rain hit Stern's mouth, and he could no longer speak a word, nor could he breathe out. He didn't hurt me? His face was blurred with blood, and I touched his neck. There was no doubt that he was a dead body. Last month, I just watched a videotape of the film "This Killer Is Not So Cold" directed by France. A man named Leon said, "After you kill someone, everything will change." My fate can no longer be changed.