The Most Random System

Chapter 982 - 452: When a Purple Mood Appears in Fairy Tales, It’s a Total Buzzkill

Wednesday, Christmas Day.Because Nansang Middle School had no plans for celebrating this foreign holiday, the campus was virtually devoid of any Christmas elements.

The only traces were created spontaneously within some classrooms.

Lin Li arrived at the classroom.

"According to unofficial records, Liu Bei named his adopted son Liu Feng and called his own son Ah Dou to hint at his hidden ambition—he wanted to be titled Douluo.

Liu Bei established the Shu Kingdom, so why did he call himself King of Hanzhong instead of King of Shu? It was to avoid offending the Tang Sect, which was entrenched in Shu.

After being defeated in the Battle of Yiling, a man in his sixties managed to lead his remaining troops from Hubei all the way to Chongqing, which was due to the Tang Sect’s technique ’Ghost Shadow Perplexing Track.’

Unfortunately, as everyone knows, the Tang Sect’s secrets cannot be shared, and Liu Bei’s actions were a path to death, which meant that although officially he was said to have died from illness in Baidi City, in reality, he was assassinated by the Tang Sect."

"Reckless! Bufan, you’re on a path to death!"

"What are you babbling about? What’s the big deal about dying? Let’s resurrect together, my love!"

"Before you resurrect, can I borrow Bufan’s corpse for a bit? I need it."

"..."

Amidst the laughter and joking that couldn’t be missed every day, the boys in the back row distributed their breakfast and returned to their seats. Lin Li took out a small gift box from his backpack and handed it to Bai Bufan.

"What’s this?" Bai Bufan didn’t accept it immediately and instead took a cautious step back.

"Relax, it’s a gift from last night at the church."

Bai Bufan, who was originally covering his backside and suspecting Lin Li’s intentions toward his attractive physique, suddenly realized, recalling that he had participated in a small activity over the weekend.

Accepting the gift-wrapped box, he remained vigilant. It’s always wise to be cautious around Lin Li.

Fortunately, Lin Li didn’t have any ulterior motives this time, and upon opening it, Bai Bufan found a brand new water-filled hot water bottle, along with a note:

"Wishing the gift receiver a warm winter ’smile’, be happy every day."

The handwriting was quite naïve, revealing it had been written by a child who hadn’t mastered writing for long.

"Tsk tsk, oh my—" Bai Bufan raised his eyebrows, amused: "Makes my corpse feel warm."

Many times, Bai Bufan wanted to shout to the heavens, "Heavens, let me be the assertive one, I can’t take it anymore."

But now, looking at this sincerely bestowed blessing, Bai Bufan was willing to forgive the world for a second.

"Wang Ze must be ecstatic," Lin Li laughed.

Sometimes "reviewing" could be annoying, but it was necessary.

Because each gift was screened by the church volunteers, under pseudo-random conditions, you would never receive some crazy ’’gift.’’

Trying to stir things up wasn’t allowed.

So, before breakfast, Bai Bufan went to the water room to fill the bag with hot water.

Warm, very considerate.

Bai Bufan felt his draught cold was healed.

"Today is Christmas," feeling the warmth of the hot water bottle, Bai Bufan was reminded of something and looked at Lin Li: "Lin Li, what do you think happened to the little match girl last night?"

Upon hearing this, Lin Li instantly switched to battle mode, adopting a narrator’s broadcast tone, and recounted last night’s story to Bai Bufan:

"In a humble little town, on Christmas, which was yesterday, every household glowed with happiness and joy, even the harsh weather and howling winds, with bleak snow fluttering in the air, did not affect people’s moods.

However, one girl couldn’t be happy. She wore thin clothes, and her small body shivered uncontrollably, her face a ghostly pale, without a trace of blood, her hands purple with cold tightly clutching some nuclear bombs and a remote control.

"Selling nukes, selling nukes..." The girl croaked over and over again, her voice small like a mosquito’s yet using her last remaining strength.

Barefoot, she saw a middle-aged uncle and pleaded: "Uncle, please buy a nuke, I haven’t eaten in three days. This is the latest model DF61, which can provide global heating."

But the uncle did not buy, only saying "Sorry, we use matches for warmth now, nuclear heating is outdated."

Several customers were the same, preferring to start fires rather than use nukes for warmth, the little girl despairingly thought: if she didn’t sell a nuke soon, she would truly starve to death.

She didn’t dare go home, knowing that not selling a nuke would result in a beating. As the black night gradually descended, the wind biting, the little girl shivered violently.

She didn’t know how long she wandered, utterly exhausted, she stopped hawking, glanced around, found a place to lean on and rest, put down the nukes, and laboriously cleared thick snow, slowly sat down, curled into a ball.

Her body trembled with cold, she felt she was nearing her end, contemplating detonating a nuke to possibly warm herself a little.

In a daze, her late grandmother’s kindly face gradually appeared before her, indistinguishable between reality and illusion.

Grandmother benevolently told the girl: "Child, follow grandma; as long as you press the button in your hand, grandma will take you somewhere good, where there is no hunger and pain, only eternal enjoyment."

The girl only wanted to be in grandma’s arms, so she nodded without hesitation to agree.