Chapter 236: Bro, Can

It turns out people only laugh when they're utterly speechless.

In a barbershop.

Sun Zhicheng glanced at his oily, gleaming rare haircut in the mirror and couldn't stop laughing uncontrollably.

The apprentice stared at the trembling melon before him and felt stumped.

"Bro, don't move around."

Sun Zhicheng wanted to leap up and scream curses at the barbershop.

He wanted to instantly unleash his fury, smash this dump, and make the heartless boss and idiot apprentice pay for his hair and dignity.

What did they take him for?

A volunteer lab rat who paid willingly!

"Bro, stop moving, you made another ditch," the apprentice complained. "Almost done—your fidgeting makes it hard for me to work."

Sun Zhicheng teetered on the edge of rage, glancing at his rare haircut.

He held back.

"Can you just shave it all off?" he forced himself to regain reason, suppressing the demon inside.

When a Great Emperor rages, star rivers shatter, the Dao is ground to dust.

Tell me—can this tiny barbershop withstand his wrath?!

"Not recommended, bro," the apprentice said gently, smiling. "With your hair shape, shaving it all flat won't look good."

Hearing this, Sun Zhicheng grew uncertain again.

"Really?"

"Yeah, just wait a bit longer," the apprentice asked casually, "Bro, if anything's unsatisfactory, say so."

Sun Zhicheng: "."

He was dissatisfied with every part of the haircut, and he didn't want to speak—he only wanted to kill the apprentice's mother.

At this moment, Sun Zhicheng cursed that he wasn't a man of the streets.

His hair had been cut into this fucking mess—should he really endure it?

He longed to roar, yet feared causing trouble.

Maybe the apprentice was just like this—he'd barely earned this chance.

Shouldn't he be kinder, show more patience?

Ten minutes passed; the apprentice was still outlining the back of his head.

Sun Zhicheng: ". Uh, I'm going to be late for evening self-study—can you hurry up?"

"Alright, alright, bro, just a sec," the apprentice kept trimming, swaying left and right. "Almost done, just finishing up."

At 6:05, Sun Zhicheng stepped out of the barbershop.

He pulled out his phone, used the streetlights as a mirror—and burst into tears from how ugly it looked.

No tears fell, because real men don't cry easily.

At that moment, he deeply understood one truth: never soften toward barbershop apprentices—better to hang yourself than learn from them.

In the classroom.

"Hahahaha!!" Lin Dong clutched his stomach, laughing until he couldn't breathe, coughing violently. "Cough cough cough!! Help me, I can't die!"

"Pfft!" Zhou Yuting looked up—right into the opening strike.

She covered her mouth, turned to Yu Zhiyi writing at his desk, afraid to speak lest she laugh.

"Hmph."

Yu Zhiyi looked up, puzzled, glancing at Zhou Yuting.

Following her gaze, he slowly turned to Sun Zhicheng—and instantly cracked up like a turtle trying to walk, a tortoise unable to hold it.

"Haha, dog rare haircut."

Hearing this, Lin Dong, who had just calmed down, was instantly drawn in by Yu Zhiyi's "dog rare haircut."

He studied Sun Zhicheng closely, realized there truly was a rare charm to it, and burst into fresh laughter.

Lin Dong sat back down but couldn't hold it—he started laughing again, clutching his stomach and groaning.

Overcome by the force of his laughter, he rolled his eyes and nearly fainted.

Nearby students watching the spectacle suddenly realized Lin Dong was in trouble and shouted.

"Oh no, Lin Dong's dead!"

Another lucky phrase emerged.

It was just before evening self-study; November nights fell early.

Most students had arrived, clustered in groups of three or five—either writing homework or chatting.

This explosive remark drew the entire class's attention.

"Shit, Lin Dong got laughed to death by Sun Zhicheng."

"Holy shit, knife up the ass, eyes opened."

"What do we do? Take him to the school clinic?"

"Are you brain-dead from studying? We don't even have a school clinic—call 120!"

"Teacher! Get the teacher! Where's the discipline committee?"

Cai Xiaoqing froze, never having seen anything like this. Her mind spun in chaos; she could only grip her phone and edge closer.

What to do, what to do?

Suddenly, the crowd parted.

Li Qingrong walked over, glanced once, and spoke calmly.

"This is respiratory alkalosis. Who has a plastic bag?"

Cai Xiaoqing's reaction was half a beat slow, her head buzzing. Before the panic could spread, Li Qingrong patted her shoulder.

"Huh?"

Li Qingrong's eyes were deep and dark as she said calmly.

"Find a plastic bag."

"Oh oh! Okay!" In an instant, Cai Xiaoqing was as if she had found her backbone. No longer hesitating, she called out loudly, "Does anyone have a bag?"

"I do!" Luo Yong, the lone-island guy, pulled out a white plastic bag and said hesitantly, "It's just... got a little oil on it, is that okay?"

Cai Xiaoqing looked toward the class monitor. Li Qingrong nodded.

"It's fine."

Li Qingrong took the bag and slipped it over Lin Dong's head, tying it a bit snugly.

"Everyone, step back."

The surrounding crowd was cleared, leaving an open circle.

Sun Zhicheng stood rooted to the spot, dumbfounded. When he came back to his senses and saw the class monitor handling things, he finally let out a breath of relief.

For a moment, standing felt wrong and sitting felt wrong too — he looked rather awkward. Fortunately, Lin Dong's case was mild. After a few rounds of breathing in carbon dioxide, he stabilized; his fingers stopped spasming.

Seeing this, Li Qingrong said to those around.

"Someone come over and help him adjust through a few more rounds."

Sun Zhicheng heard this and immediately came back to his senses. His mouth moved twice, and he was about to step forward.

As the saying goes, to untie the bell, one must find the one who tied it.

Since Brother Dong's illness started because of me, then let me be the one to end it. This karmic tie — I'll sever it with my own hands.

Li Qingrong glanced at him and said.

"You go farther away. Don't cause a relapse."

Crack— Sun Zhicheng's pupils contracted sharply. The Dao-heart he had just gathered shattered in an instant. Go farther away~ go farther~ away~

He walked toward the outside of the crowd with a face full of dejection, like a scholar who had failed the imperial exam.

So he really was a jinx.

Li Qingrong paid no attention to Sun Zhicheng, hesitating over whom to call over to lend a hand.

Suddenly, a group of people came in through the classroom door.

Jiang Nian, Li Hua, and Ma Guojun — the three Fruity Robo warriors — walked in, followed by Yang Qiming and Huang Cailang, the two brothers.

The two groups had bumped into each other downstairs and simply came upstairs together.

Who could have expected that the moment they walked in, they'd get hit with a bolt from the blue — seeing a crowd gathered there. The class monitor was putting a transparent plastic bag over Lin Dong's head, seemingly committing murder.

Yang Qiming was heartbroken — that was his sworn brother.

"Brother Dong! Wh-what did you do to offend the class monitor! How foolish! Be a good person in your next life!"

Huang Cailang was stunned. The class monitor was going to murder Brother Dong.

Should he help out?

"Oh no, I've stumbled into a crime scene." Li Hua immediately rendered the French military salute, both hands raised above his head. "I surrender, everyone don't kill me!"

"You idiot, that's the class monitor. How could she possibly do something like that!" Ma Guojun was speechless.

He had one more thing he hadn't said — even if she wanted to kill him, there'd be no need for the class monitor to lift a finger. Lin Dong would climb up onto the windowsill and do a standing long jump off on his own.

Jiang Nian pointed at them with a laugh — he was already in the stratosphere — and cursed them as fools.

"Obviously it's a medical treatment. The class monitor's healing hands are bringing him back to life!"

He hadn't figured out the situation, but that didn't stop him from picking a side.

"Who says Lin Dong's corpse is old? This corpse is amazing! It's still moving — so healthy."

The few of them asked around and were all stunned.

"Where's Sun Zhicheng?"

Li Hua stepped forward boldly, quite puzzled.

"How funny can a haircut be? Hilarious."

He turned his head, saw the rare hairstyle of Sun Zhicheng at the edge of the crowd, and burst out laughing like thunder.

"Hahaha, sorry, I take back what I just said. I'm an idiot."

Yang Qiming was busy saving his brother and stepped up to take over the class monitor's work.

"Brother Dong, hold on."

Li Qingrong lowered her eyes and glanced at the plastic bag.

"You smeared oil all over his face."

"Oh oh, sorry Brother Dong!" Yang Qiming suddenly let go, wanting to wipe it off for him, and smeared it once more through the plastic bag. "Uh, Brother Dong, I—"

Chen Yunyun glanced over and couldn't help but shake her head sympathetically.

"Our group leader is about to be suffocated to death by you."

Wang Yuhe stood on tiptoe watching for a while, tugged at Chen Yunyun's jacket, and said with an earnest face.

"I can hold my breath for a minute and a half."

"Impressive." Jiang Nian leaned over, tossed out a compliment — it was no trouble at all. "Can't tell. You, this one-meter-sixty little thing, can hold it that long."

Wang Yuhe lifted her chin, looking smug.

"Of course."

Lin Dong was huffing and puffing, unable to catch his breath. Brother, please.

The farce continued all the way until class started.

Lin Dong had completely recovered, and his whole person had returned to normal. Only his face and hair had gotten oil and salt on them, so he simply went back to the dorm to shower.

Sun Zhicheng lowered his head and returned to his seat, already too embarrassed to face anyone.

During evening study, from time to time one could hear the sound of air leaking from the classroom. Faintly, one could hear low or long-suppressed strange laughter — heh-heh-heh, giggle-giggle.

Evening self-study began, in the quiet classroom.

"Pfft! Hahaha, sorry, I just thought of something funny."

"Haha, my dad slapped me yesterday."

"Hahaha, damn, Sun Zhicheng is a rare one."

The whole class instantly erupted in laughter, and Sun Zhicheng felt miserable.

He wished he could fly back right now and punch that boss and apprentice.

Can't cut it, cut your mom's what! Cut it, compare!

While the whole class was laughing, Jiang Nian propped his head on his hand and stared at Zhang Nianzhi. The girl had originally wanted to laugh too — after all, Sun Zhicheng's rare haircut was just too bizarre.

But being stared at like that, Zhang Nianzhi wanted to laugh but didn't dare.

Her cheeks puffed up like steamed buns, holding it in with all her might, staring straight ahead.

"What are you doing?" Jiang Nian asked knowingly, murmuring, "You're not mocking a classmate, are you? Surely not, surely not?"

Zhang Nianzhi rubbed her cheeks and glared at him.

"I wasn't!"

Jiang Nian had already given up, when footsteps came from the classroom door.

It was Lin Dong.

Lin Dong, who had returned after showering at the dorm, was no longer the Lin Dong who had laughed himself into a fit.

He was fresh and clean, stepping into the classroom with a light, airy gait. His gaze swept past Sun Zhicheng, and he burst out laughing again.

"Hahaha!"

Because Lin Dong had just laughed himself into a faint and been brought back, his second bout of explosive laughter was especially comical, and the whole class instantly roared with laughter.

Zhang Nianzhi couldn't hold it in either and instantly broke.

The little girl let out a snort, covering her mouth as she laughed softly, her shoulders trembling.

Begging for a monthly ticket Orz

(End of this chapter)