: Luoshui is not muddy, Xinxiang Anlaiyue (ninety-nine)

The head of the man, wearing a worn black shirt, An Xinyue looked down, visually he was wearing only one pair of trousers, with patches on it, the hair on the forehead of the teenager had covered his eyes, very social Look like.
"What do they do?" An Xinyue asked curiously.
"There was a high school nearby. A boy in high school was bullied. The boy had a little money at home, so he asked them to fight."
"Well, this is the little black b who occupies the door of the school. It seems that he can still make a lot of money."
"Forget it, it's a noble school." Chu Luo said as he drank water, as if he didn't care about what was going to happen outside.
The waiter was probably used to this kind of thing, so when those people appeared, they closed the door decisively and then closed the curtains.
An Xinyue: "..."
Chu Luomu turned the cup in his hand and looked at the apparently aggressive An Xinyue, as if telling her with her eyes, ‘this is the truth. ’
Bloody and dazzling fact.
The curtains were not completely closed. An Xinyue could see how hard the teenagers on the two sides were fighting, terribly.
After all, the thorns in the school are always inferior to those in the society, so a wave of youngsters was quickly run away by the fart.
Suddenly, the headed man kicked his little brother who took out the kitchen knife, "what do you do? We don't do anything that kills people."
The younger brother was stung to the ground and wanted to say something, but was afraid to speak because he was afraid of Song Mingfeng, who was dead.
Song Mingfeng collected the money of the little rich man. After clearing the points, he divided most of his money among his brothers, and then left a little bit of himself, sitting on the steps and waving his brothers to leave, he took out a box of cigarettes himself.
The little brothers got away with money when they got the money.
Song Mingfeng's angular face had obvious irritability, because he only found cigarettes and forgot to bring a lighter.
When he was irritable, a lighter suddenly appeared in front of him.
Song Mingfeng looked up, facing Chu Luomu's face. He didn't take the lighter, but just looked at Chu Luomu, "Who are you?" Song Mingfeng said nothing politely.
Chu Luo was not angry and motioned for him to take over the lighter.
Although Song Mingfeng was skeptical, he picked it up, then lit the cigarette and returned the lighter to Chu Luomu. "Thank you."
He speaks well, not at all like the tone that a nineteen-year-old boy should have.
Chu Luomu sat down beside him and looked at the hundreds of dollars he held in his hands. "Did you fight to help someone fight, is this money enough for you to buy medicine?"
"Cut--" Song Mingfeng gave a smirk, not caring about his bleeding arm, and took a savage cigarette. "Foreigners, don't worry about it, it's not good for you." Song Mingfeng finished, Get up straight, then walk around and walk on his legs.
"Follow me, how can I give you a stable environment?" Chu Luo stood up and looked at Song Mingfeng's back and said.
Song Mingfeng didn't stop, he waved, "I don't need anyone to control."
Chu Luomu did not insist, watching Song Mingfeng leave.
An Xinyue came out of the tea shop and looked at Chu Luomu standing at the intersection: "Why not catch up?"
Chu Luomu looked at Song Mingfeng's back, and slightly touched his chin. "How can you say that he is a 19-year-old child who is more mature than 20-something Laozi?"