Their bright and childish smiles made Tong Qin smile at the corner of her eyes. She counted in her heart again, and her fingers followed suit, seven and a half years.
Seven and a half years ago, when she was a freshman in high school, she was in the same third-to-last row, in the same seat. She sat in that position and took notes seriously, but in fact she was cheating because her attention was entirely focused on the boy next to her. The boy was sunny and handsome, and his white skin could clearly see the velvety hair under the sunlight. His eyes were filled with mischief. He pulled Tong Qin's sleeve and motioned for her to take off her hand. Tong Qin didn't want to pay attention to him, but she put her hand down obediently. The moment she put it down, a warm big hand wrapped her little hand and placed it on the boy's lap. The boy raped her. A wicked smile appeared on her lips, but her eyes were staring at the blackboard seriously. Tong Qin was frightened by this sudden move, and her face turned red. She slammed the boy's hand away, and let out a frightened cry. The teacher who was writing furiously on the blackboard turned sideways, pushed up his glasses with his hand, looked around the classroom, and expressed his dissatisfaction and warning with an unnatural cough. The students around her stared at Tong Qin with curious eyes. Seeing her red face, they thought she was embarrassed, so they stopped looking at her and went to play or copy notes.
Tong Qin glared at the boy fiercely, but the boy had an expression that said, "What can you do to me?" Tong Qin was not someone to be bullied easily. She stretched out her hand and pinched the boy's thigh. The boy hugged his thigh in pain...