Let's give space a touch of Chinese horror!

Chapter 90 The Second Gift

"What's wrong?"

Li Xingzhuo was giving instructions to Li Jianglan when he saw Jiang Yi suddenly stand up.

He didn't look too well either.

Li Xingzhuo assumed that Jiang Yi had seen the new, messy comments appearing online, and couldn't help but comfort her: "You don't need to pay attention to those people, they're just paid trolls doing things for others..."

"I'll have someone take care of it right away."

"Huh? Oh..." Jiang Yi realized that Li Xingzhuo had misunderstood, but she was in a hurry and didn't have the time or inclination to explain. She could only make up an excuse and hurriedly left the room.

"What is she doing...?"

Watching Jiang Yi's hurried departure, Li Jianglan felt it was the first time he had ever seen this usually lazy Jiang Yi, who would rather sit than stand, express such strong emotions.

It felt like I couldn't stay in the room any longer.

This was the first time Li Xingzhuo had seen Jiang Yi look so serious. "She must be angry about the comments online..." Some of the vulgar language online made even a seasoned veteran like him frown.

So he instructed Li Jianglan: "This matter will be dealt with severely. Don't let any of those online trolls get away with it."

"Yes, boss."

……

Jiang Yi hurriedly ran into an empty restroom.

She did want to go back to her own room, but the system was pressuring her too much. Jiang Yi didn't know which rooms Li Xingzhuo was using and which were empty—she could have asked the system to help her find out, but now the system was focused on suppressing the module that was about to be unlocked and had no energy left for anything else. So Jiang Yi could only find the only place she knew she could go.

She was lucky; there was no one in the restroom.

Jiang Yi placed the sign indicating that she was cleaning at the door, then slipped into the bathroom and closed the door.

"Are you done? Are you done? Host!"

The system's voice was so strained it sounded distorted: "I'm about to burst!"

"alright!"

As soon as Jiang Yi finished speaking, a "whoosh" sound came from the air, followed by a "snap" sound, and a black pointer appeared out of thin air.

The pointer was entirely black, but due to long-term use, the paint had lost its original shine; the handle, however, was worn smooth and shiny, with a ring of black tape wrapped around the end, though the edges were slightly curled up; the tip of the pointer was worn slightly white and even a bit rough from years of marking the blackboard.

Hmm... it's a pointer...

The woman in crimson robes suddenly realized.

She seemed to know who was coming out this time.

Just as the pointer was about to fall, a hand caught it.

His palms were broad and thick, with distinct knuckles, and calluses from years of holding pens were visible at the base of his thumb. In particular, his grip on the pointer was very skillful; his fingers could even fit perfectly into the concave curve of the pointer.

The air rippled like water, then parted like a curtain, and a person slowly walked out of the air.

He was about 30 years old, with a thin, angular face, high and hard cheekbones, and a very tight jaw.

His skin was pale, as if it hadn't seen the sun in a long time, and his lips were pressed into a horizontal line with the corners slightly turned down. A pair of narrow-rimmed metal glasses sat on his nose, and the eyes behind the lenses were sharp and devoid of any warmth.

His hair was meticulously combed back with hair oil, not a single stray hair was on his forehead, and his sideburns were also neatly and symmetrically trimmed, which shows how much of a perfectionist and obsessive-compulsive he is.

He was slender, wearing a pure white shirt with the collar buttoned tightly at the top, just below his Adam's apple; the cuffs were neat and wrinkle-free, never rolled up even in the height of summer. Over this, he wore a gray Chinese-style coat, and in the front breast pocket was a gleaming silver fountain pen.

The slightly darker gray trousers had a crease as straight as a knife, pressed to a point where they fell to the polished black leather shoes; the shoes were spotless, their surfaces reflecting a cold, hard sheen as one walked.

"clatter."

The heel lightly touched the bottom, making a soft sound in the empty bathroom.

He gripped the black pointer, his entire body standing as straight as if drawn with a ruler and ink lines, his expressionless face casting a cold, piercing gaze at the man in crimson.

—Serious and orderly, allowing no room for deviation.

His mere existence constitutes a silent, inviolable rule.

"Long time no see..."

Looking at her old friend, Jiang Yi softly said, "Teacher Dai."