Chapter 49 — Come Find Me Tomorrow: Begging for Recommendation Votes, Begging for Collections! Thank You!

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Feeling the warmth of Guan Xin's hand, little Wei Zhao could not help but lift up his head. Guan Xin, having accidentally brushed against Wei Zhao, was already so shy that she instinctively lowered her head for fear he might see her face; her head was bent very low at that moment. And then... tragedy struck.

Just as little Wei Zhao stiffened, he poked straight into the tip of Guan Xin's nose...

"Ah!" Guan Xin could not hold back a startled cry at last and sprang quickly to her feet. But by now she was already so ashamed that she could not lift her head...

Wei Zhao looked at Guan Xin like this and felt a bit helpless too. Who told you to touch "him"? he thought to himself. But since it had already happened, all he could do was say awkwardly, "Sorry... I couldn't help myself..."

Hearing Wei Zhao apologize to her first, Guan Xin instead felt a little uneasy. In fact, Guan Xin knew very well that Wei Zhao had been quite well-behaved before; it was only after she had unintentionally touched him that he had the physical reaction. When all was said and done, it was she who was to blame.

"It's not your fault... As a nurse, I shouldn't be bothered by such things. It was my own thoughts that were a bit impure..." Guan Xin hastened to explain. If it had been anyone else, Guan Xin would probably not have been nearly so kind; she would have slapped him long ago. But Wei Zhao was different—he was her lifesaver. Instinctively, Guan Xin was filled with guilt over the gunshot wound on his body, believing that he had taken the bullet for her sake, and that was why she was so gentle with him.

"He's... calmed down..." Wei Zhao pointed at his lower body with a hint of self-mockery, and then said awkwardly, "We can continue now..."

"Mm..." Guan Xin nodded, and setting aside the earlier awkwardness, carefully changed Wei Zhao's dressing.

"Hiss..." The gauze had adhered to part of the wound, and the tearing sensation made Wei Zhao grit his teeth.

"The wound is healing really nicely—it's hard to believe the surgery was only yesterday." Guan Xin looked at the injury on Wei Zhao's leg with some amazement.

"Mm, my skin heals easily," Wei Zhao explained. He certainly could not say it was because he had been cultivating the Xuanyuan Dragon-Steering Art.

With the dressing changed, both of them looked a little embarrassed. In the end, it was Guan Xin who smiled generously and said, "Come back in three days for another change—just come straight to me."

"Mm..." Wei Zhao nodded, and made his escape from the surgical treatment room as if fleeing. It was only when he had run all the way downstairs that he let out a sigh of relief. How mortifying today had been.

Uncle Qing had been waiting for Wei Zhao in the car the whole time. Wei Zhao had not let him go upstairs earlier, because he could move around completely without difficulty now, so he did not want to put Uncle Qing to any trouble.

"Dressing changed?" Seeing Wei Zhao come out of the hospital, Uncle Qing opened the car door and asked.

"Mm, it's done." Wei Zhao nodded. "But I'll still have to come back for the next dressing change. We'll see how the wound is healing—coming every other day is fine too."

Actually, what Guan Xin was thinking was this: she happened to have the next day off, so she had wanted Wei Zhao to come the day after. But she was afraid his wound might worsen, so she let him decide after seeing how it healed.

Wei Zhao thought of the awkwardness from the dressing change just now and truly did not dare to come a second time. This feeling of being able to look but not touch really was not pleasant at all.

"I got in touch with Mr. Gu and told him about what happened yesterday." Uncle Qing started the engine and said to Wei Zhao.

"What did Mr. Gu say?" Wei Zhao asked at once.

"Mr. Gu said he would rush back right away, and that everything would wait until he returned," Uncle Qing said. "Still, Mr. Gu said he already had a vague idea who did this."

"Oh?" Wei Zhao was taken aback. He had not expected Gu Pengzhan to be so shrewd, able to guess the hidden hand behind the scenes so quickly.

The morning rush hour was already over, and the traffic on the streets had grown sparse again. Soon, Uncle Qing drove up to the gate of the city's No. 1 Middle School. Wei Zhao got out and waved to Uncle Qing.

Shouldering his schoolbag, Wei Zhao stepped through the gate of No. 1 Middle School. On the sports field, now empty, only a few students were playing basketball—clearly the sort of delinquent students who rarely came to class.

"Thump." A basketball came rolling over in Wei Zhao's direction.

"Hey, kid, throw the ball over!" a long-haired student in black shouted at Wei Zhao.

Wei Zhao was in a hurry to get to class; why would he trouble himself to fetch the ball for him? Besides, the basketball had not rolled right up to Wei Zhao's feet—it had stopped at some distance from him.

"Damn, you little brat, I'm talking to you! Didn't you hear me?" Zou Ruoming was instantly annoyed. In this school, was there any student who dared not obey him?

Hearing Zou Ruoming's cursing, Wei Zhao could not help but frown slightly. Although Wei Zhao had never known who his parents were since he was little, hearing such insulting language still made him extremely unhappy.

Wei Zhao slowly turned around and looked at Zou Ruoming. He pointed at him, then at himself, as if to say, "Are you talking about me?"

"It's you! Are you deaf or what? I'll count to three. Throw the ball over here right now, and we'll have no problem. Otherwise, I'll make sure you f***ing can't stay at this school." At a glance, Zou Ruoming could tell from Wei Zhao's clothes that he was just a poor student, so he said whatever he wanted without any scruples.

Wei Zhao said nothing, walking straight toward where the basketball had rolled, then bending over to pick it up.

The pack of lackeys around Zou Ruoming let out bursts of cheers. Zou Ruoming greatly enjoyed this feeling of others submitting at his feet; the sense of being the school tyrant was extremely exhilarating to him.

"Brother Ming really has authority. One word from you, and that kid had to go fetch the ball obediently. Even after being cursed at, he didn't dare let out a peep." One of Zou Ruoming's followers flattered him fawningly.

"Hmph, just a poor student." Zou Ruoming said complacently, "In this school, the person who dares to oppose me, Zou Ruoming, hasn't even been born yet."

Wei Zhao stood up, holding the basketball, and turned toward Zou Ruoming. Zou Ruoming made a catching pose, signaling Wei Zhao to toss the ball over.

Looking at Zou Ruoming's ostentatious manner, a faint curve appeared at the corner of Wei Zhao's mouth. He suddenly raised his hand, and the basketball shot off from his palm, flying rapidly toward Zou Ruoming.

Of course, Zou Ruoming was not aware that danger was approaching him. He still stood there cockily in his catching posture, both hands in front of his chest, ready to take the ball Wei Zhao had thrown.

"Thud!" The basketball slammed into Zou Ruoming's hands. At first, Zou Ruoming was secretly pleased with himself for catching the ball from such a distance, while the pack of lackeys around him also raised fawning cheers: "Brother Ming is so cool, he's practically the new Jordan!"

Zou Ruoming was just about to say, "That's right!" when, before the words could even leave his mouth, he sensed something wrong. The basketball slammed into his hands with not the slightest intention of stopping. He felt that what had hit his hands was not a basketball at all—it was a shot put.

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