Chapter 200: Pure Evil

"It's all my own fault for not being careful..." Chen Ting said with a face full of annoyance. "I even dropped my newly bought phone on the ground. How could I be so stupid?"

Yes, you're certainly stupid. You actually came to provoke me.

Although I no longer have Qu Ge to protect me, dealing with trash like you is still more than easy for me.

These three years of agony have been a deep torment for me.

I not only had to learn professional childcare knowledge but also study piano and painting.

Watching those trash work so hard at it made me feel utterly nauseated.

How could anyone actually like these things?

What's the point of painting well? Will it make people afraid of you?

What's the use of playing piano beautifully? Will it earn you money?

It seems their lives are just like that—pitiful and tragic.

I'm fundamentally different from them; I know exactly what I need.

A powerful man can save me from countless efforts. Since Qu Ge is gone, I need to find another one.

I got to know some gang members near the school gate, but honestly, they're all too cowardly. I told them to rob someone, and they didn't dare; let alone fight.

Powerful men are especially hard to find, so I had to choose another path.

That is, men with money.

Whether they're lawyers, doctors, or bosses, as long as they have money, they're my targets.

From branded cosmetics to expensive phones, as long as they have money, it's as good as me having it.

I downloaded a lot of dating apps on my phone and started picking my prey.

I have to say, it was way easier than I imagined.

As a high school student, as long as I took the initiative to meet up, those old men couldn't resist the temptation at all.

I made a lot of money.

Those trash in my class were killing themselves studying just to end up working for others—thinking about it, they're really pathetic.

Why would I need to work a job when I can earn this much in just a month?

I finally bought cosmetics and a phone.

The cosmetics make me look prettier, and with my new phone, I can take beautiful photos to earn even more money.

Three years flew by, and most of my classmates in the class isolated me. I know it's just jealousy because my cosmetics never run out, and I keep getting new phones.

Even if I used eyebrow pencil to draw on paper or foundation to smear on the wall for fun, I would never give my cosmetics to them.

After all, we're not the same kind of people; I'll have a better life than them.

I've already given them face by not slashing their faces over these three years.

In the future, I'll have nothing to do with them; I don't need their acceptance at all.

After graduation, I had more time to pick my prey.

But I gradually realized this wasn't a good thing.

For some reason, most men only met me once, and the money they gave wasn't enough for my expenses.

Why could I meet so many when I was a student... but not now?

And why are the ones I meet now all broke losers?

They don't even want to give money; they think this is dating.

Who do they think I, Xiao Ran, am?

Want to date me without spending a penny?

After thinking for three days, I figured it out.

It's "identity"!

My current identity isn't great; I'm just an unemployed drifter. Doesn't that make me a full-time "special service provider"?

Don't kid yourself; I'm nothing like those trash who sell themselves. I've been educated; I'm far superior to them.

So, what identity should I give myself?

After thinking it over, I went back home and told the old woman I wanted to become a kindergarten teacher.

She cried again.

It's really weird; she cries every time I have a new idea.

She held my hand, saying I'd grown up and that she'd fulfill my wishes, even if it meant selling everything we have.

But I didn't expect them to actually sell everything.

They mortgaged the house.

Apparently, my education level is too low; to get into a kindergarten, we had to pay for connections.

It doesn't matter to me; after all, it's not my money.

As long as I have a legitimate identity, the rest will be much easier.

After handing over 100,000 yuan to the kindergarten principal, I successfully became a kindergarten teacher.

That's where I ran into a high school classmate of mine, my old desk mate, Chen Ting.

But our identities are different now.

She's a junior college student sent here for an internship, while I'm already a full-time employee.

That's the difference between us.

She's not as smart as I am; she always chooses the longest path, but I'm different—I take shortcuts.

"Xiao... Xiao Ran?" Chen Ting's expression was complicated when she saw me. After a moment of silence, she still managed a relieved smile. "I never thought I'd run into you here. You really do like kids, don't you? You ended up becoming a kindergarten teacher after all."

"Yes." I nodded with a fake smile. "We're all the same, aren't we?"

On the first day of work, Chen Ting and I were assigned to the same small class; I was in charge, and she was assisting.

I don't get it—what's so special about this noisy group of kids? Why do they need me to take care of them?

During lunchtime on the first day, I sat at the teacher's desk playing on my phone and updating my profile. I needed to let them know right away that I'm a kindergarten teacher to make my profile more appealing.

Before long, Chen Ting pushed the door open and glanced around with a displeased look.

"Hey?" She paused. "Xiao Ran, why aren't you looking after the kids while they're eating?"

"What's there to manage about eating?" I asked without even looking up, sounding casual.

Chen Ting sighed and quickly rolled up her sleeves to go over to the kids.

I looked up and saw that most of these annoying kids couldn't even use a spoon properly; rice and soup were spilled everywhere. One kid wasn't even eating; he just sat there crying. It was so irritating.

Why don't they just drop dead?

"There, there..." Chen Ting said, gently touching the crying little boy's head. "Don't cry. Tell the teacher your name, okay?"

The little boy mumbled something incoherent.

"Are you called Chen Mou Ran?" Chen Ting asked with a smile. "If you stop crying, the teacher will tell you a secret, okay?"

The little boy sniffed a few times and stopped crying.

"Wh-what secret?"

"The teacher has the same last name as you—Chen!" Chen Ting slowly picked up the spoon and placed it in the little boy's hand. "You know, among all the people with the last name Chen, nobody cries while eating. So you need to stop that too, okay?"

The little boy stared at Chen Ting blankly, not saying a word.

"If you don't believe me, think about it—does your dad have the last name Chen?" Chen Ting's voice was very gentle, and many of the kids in the class quieted down to listen. "Doesn't your dad eat without crying? As a little man, you have to learn to eat by yourself so you can grow as tall as your dad."

"Um..." The little boy nodded seriously, looking a bit grievance-stricken.

Disgusting.

I shook my head. It was truly disgusting.