Jiang Younian sat in his seat, staring blankly at the small scrap of paper that read, "My dream is."
"Screech—!"
The bus braked abruptly, sending everyone lurching forward. Jiang Younian gripped the handrail to steady himself, only to notice a small knife sitting under the seat. It was a pink, child-sized knife, the kind likely used for arts and crafts in primary school.
Chapter 117