Chapter 4

In high school, she liked my desk.

A boy whose name I've forgotten.

But I remember him as a very, very nice boy.

Maybe by chance there were those times when the boy was talking to me and she saw it.

She then took the class and began to isolate me, intentionally or unintentionally.

For example, buying the class a milk tea was just about to be handed out when it came to me.

For example, when I had my aunt in gym class and a puddle of blood had bled on my white school pants, none of them warned me. Eventually it was my deskmates who couldn't look away and handed me tissues and my school uniform.

For example, the homework I stayed up late to write often disappeared for no apparent reason, and then I was scolded by my teacher for being "poor and unmotivated."

Another example is falsely accusing me of stealing her thousands of dollars of bracelets and making a scene to call the police, in order to prevent her from inviting her parents, I had to kneel on the ground in front of all the students and cry and beg her.

......

There's too much for me to say.

These things weren't particularly serious, but they were enough to make my high school life miserable.

So I was shamefully gloating inside when I saw that she had been trafficked here along with her.

See, you're pretty. What's the use of your money?

Still not being trafficked together? We're still going to be prostitutes together, aren't we?

Unfortunately, her pretty face seemed to actually be of some use.