Chapter 87: No waves

The little old man felt very frightened, with an embarrassed expression on his face. After taking a few rounds of his mouse-like eyes, he whispered to White, "Ivanka moved out of the dormitory long ago. He is not here now."
"But the dormitory is empty, right?"
White asked with confirmation.
The little old man nodded.
"Then, please tell me, which is Ivanka's bed?" White asked again, seeing the little old man still cowering and fearing trouble. White soothed, "I am only at Ivanka's invitation. You don't have to worry so much."
"Invited?"
A look of suspicion appeared on the little old man's face. He looked at White, then at the side, scratching the back of his head, and finally spreading his hands in compromise, leading White to the bed by the window.
"No, it's here." The little old man said.
White squatted down beside this independent bed. There is a teak desk in front of me. On the desk that was supposed to be full of books, now there is nothing left.
"Does Ivanka usually go out to socialize?" White asked.
"Yes. He loves these social activities just like the rumors outside."
"Do you often play on the computer?"
"Not only that, the phone in the dormitory is always blown up. To be honest, I don't think he looks good..." Maybe it is the person Ivanka hates standing in front of him. The earth vented out. When the little old man realized that he would lose if he talked too much, he hurriedly covered his mouth, but it was too late.
At this time, White had found out the black spray paint he had bought at the convenience store under the dormitory. After removing the packaging, the pungent smell of spray paint came out of it. White pinched the tail of the spray paint and pressed it firmly.
Using spray paint to leave a mark in a certain place is one of the most popular hobbies of campus youth.
The black lacquer liquid slowly emptied out from the spray hole with the pressure of squeezing. There is no shadow in the air, but when it touches the desktop, traces are formed. With the swing of White's arm, the lacquer fluid flows on the tabletop, composed of small black dots, forming a row of Arabic numerals.
"Hey! White! What are you doing?"
The little old man who was watching was startled, and his hand on his mouth could not help but fall. He couldn't understand the significance of what White did.
"Too lacklustre. Hurry up and stop!" The little old man jumped up, preparing to take Whittle away.
The little old man is too short and lacks strength. In front of White, he had no advantage at all.
White finished painting the last number before standing up. The little old man without warning was too late to react, so he was taken to a corner by White. The small figure made a trace in the air, and a heavy muffled sound was heard.
White wiped the ink from his hands, thinking that he should have fallen hard.
"What am I doing?" White paused, replying to the old man's question. The corners of his mouth rose slightly, and his chin pointed at the masterpiece on the desk, "This is my contact information. I heard that Ivanka wants me to apologize to him. I think this is a good way. So I stayed with him. The place left my contact information."
"He can't see you like this!" The little old man was angrily. "You drove him out of the dormitory. If you really want to apologize, you might as well just come and find him!"
"No, he will come back." White shook his head, raised his head slightly, and looked at the solid-colored ceiling. He said, "How can a guy who loves college student friendship give up the best environment for making friends like university?"
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After speaking, White turned his head and said to the little old man on the ground: "If you can, I hope you can help me take care of the handwriting on the table. Be careful not to let it disappear."
The little old man bit his lower lip, his eyes flushed. A very unconvinced look.
White walked over. The little old man thought White was going to pull him, and was about to turn his head aside. White took out a dollar bill hidden in his arms, bent over and placed it on the ground next to the little old man.
I said before. The little old man is from Europe. He is here alone and lack of financial resources is the biggest problem.
"What if I don't agree?" The little old man's eyes were staring at the banknotes on the ground, his mouth still stern.
"If this is the case," White said, "I will change my approach. I will no longer choose the desktop. I will choose the wall, or the architectural level outside the dormitory."
"..." The little old man, "You are crazy."
White stuffed the dollar bill into the little European. "I hope that the next time we meet will not be in this place. It will be another, more beautiful and appropriate occasion."
...
Want White to apologize to Ivan Kama? It's impossible in the next life.
But the warning from the committee gave White a wake-up call. At the beginning, in order to get close to Maria and to give Ivan Kama’s face a good treat, he stole the dormitory’s local area network password and infringed on Ma’s privacy. If this matter is not settled as soon as possible, there will be a vicious event like a second horse face and a third horse face in the future.
The reason for the defeat this time was that White underestimated the enemy.
White thought that with his horse-faced character, he was so suppressed and exposed. Definitely he will leave the court soon. I really didn't expect Ma Lian to make such a trick.
It also drove the whole wave of overnight stays on the Stanford campus.
"Ivan Kama face, do you have this kind of IQ?" White mumbled and walked out of the third dormitory.
I'm afraid that someone else is making a ghost behind it?
...
The Stanford school, as well as the face of Ivan Kama, and other Stanford melon-eaters who went down and watched a good show are all waiting enthusiastically for White's apology.
Then the second week after the incident, a website called "Langbula" suddenly swept the entire Stanford.
No one knows how it got fired. Just like a published physical book, its publicity is not big, even very small. But if one of your friends has seen it and recommended it to you. Subsequently, this book will inexplicably drive the entire circle of friends.
"Langbula" is such a website.
People can chat in private messages on this website, or post public posts to form a small site on the website.
In fact, at this time, this application is not a novelty. Designers like Los Angeles and other universities have designed similar website platforms. Not to mention blog, it can be regarded as the leader of this kind of website, forming the dominant party of the mainstream.
So why did "the waves break" suddenly become popular?
I am afraid it is because of different reasons for facing the masses.