Now he was publicly humiliated by Pang Jiao, seething with rage.
"You fucking say that one more time!" Song Sheng roared.
Class monitor Huang Zhongfei had already run down from the podium.
Pang Jiao, licking her glamorous lips:
"Dead cripple, dead cripple, dead cripple!"
Song Sheng felt like exploding, how dare she provoke him so, did she not know who he was?
Wu Xiaoqi, caught in the middle, quietly shrank under the desk, with no basketball in his arms, he felt insecure.
"You're done for today, I'm telling you!" Song Sheng warned, tossing the black water pen he was holding.
Pang Jiao looked disdainful, when it came to fighting, she had never lost; how could such a dead cripple dare to compete with her?
Cui Yu was not far away, in the perfect spot to enjoy the show. He was spinning a basketball while watching the commotion, delightfully doubling his fun.
His natural talent was not bad; he could already balance the basketball on his fingertip for a few seconds.
