10 PM.
In a nicely decorated room, Yang Fan sat in front of his computer, fingers flying across the keyboard.
The bruised and swollen face he had earlier was now back to normal; after school in the afternoon, he'd gone to the hospital for treatment, which cost 20,000 New Coins.
This was how advanced modern technology was—unless it was a broken bone or missing limb, everything could be fixed up quickly.
Outside the door, faint footsteps could be heard.
Knock knock knock.
The sound of knocking came.
"Yang Fan, I heard you got beaten up by Ji Yu today, how's that feel?"
That was Second Brother's voice—seemingly concerned, but his tone was obviously full of schadenfreude.
"Xiaofan, even if you don't have martial arts talent, you still have to study hard. Don't think I don't know what kind of nonsense you're getting up to at school!" That was Third Brother, still using the same scolding tone.
