The sick beauty quits working in Shura Field | (BL, MTL)

Chapter 62: He is praying for Shen Zhouran's mercy

Yu Yanjing read the words on the piece of paper over and over again.

The ridiculous idea in my mind seemed to be confirmed.

but......

How can it be? !

There are not even two identical leaves in the world, so how could there be two identical birthmarks?

It's fake, it must be fake!

His brain exploded with a buzzing sound, and the back of the hand holding the paper felt an unbearable itching, like a nest of ants burrowing into the seams of his bones, gnawing at his flesh and blood, and breaking the iron chains that bound the dark emotions.

But my heart seemed to be immersed in sticky mud, tightly wrapped and unable to breathe.

"Young man? Er, young man, are you okay?" Officer Li saw that he kept looking down at the note and asked aloud.

Yu Yanjing suddenly raised his head and looked at him.

Then he turned around and left without saying a word, quickly disappearing into the detention center.

Officer Li frowned as he looked at his leaving figure.

The policeman called him: "What's wrong, Brother Li? Everyone is gone."

"I always think that person is weird." As a police officer, the sixth sense is often very sharp. At that moment, he caught a hint of weirdness, but he couldn't put it in words.

"He? He's a teacher from University A. He's young and promising." He registered his information when he came here for the first time, and the police remembered it.

Yu Yanjing returned to the car almost in embarrassment and closed the door forcefully.

But his hands were shaking.

It's not trembling caused by fear, but pathological trembling.

The piece of paper had been crumpled, and the sweat on the palm of my hand had softened the paper, blurring the writing on it.

Not only that, there were a few red marks on the white paper, which gradually turned from bright to dark when exposed to the air.

Yu Yanjing pricked the palm of his hand with his short, blunt nails, leaving a crescent-shaped wound with blood oozing out.

But it's not enough.

He untied the cufflinks with trembling hands, rolled up his sleeves, opened his mouth to the scarred arm, and bit it.

The smell of blood filled the entire space in the car, and the pain stimulated his nerves, but it also soothed him. Like some kind of drug, it makes people corrupt and dependent on it.

Yu Yanjing's face was expressionless and he slowly increased his strength, as if he couldn't feel the pain.

By the time he regained consciousness, his entire arm was covered in blood and flesh, and his skin was turned out. As he raised his head, the blood on the corners of his lips slowly flowed down, thick and thick.

He stared at himself in the rearview mirror, his light eyes calm. After a few seconds of silence, Yu Yanjing opened the cabinet in front of the passenger seat, took out the portable medical kit, and began to bandage it with familiarity.

Since when did it become like this?

Yu Yanjing can no longer remember clearly. He was in a state of confusion for the first ten years of his life.

He was captured and worked as a miner, used as a money-making tool by beggars, abused, beaten, and tied up by an illegal organization for human experimentation.