Chapter 2

Several nearby passengers couldn't stand it anymore and started criticizing him:

"This is a public space, you have no manners at all."

"At your age, bullying two young girls, have you no shame?"

"We all paid for tickets. I've never seen someone like this before. Look, no one dares sit next to you."

"Exactly, acting like this is your own home."

The old man sneered, "Mind your own business!"

"You only know how to bully an old man like me. This girl is taking up my seat with her bag, why don't you say something about that?" he said.

"It's just a stupid bag. I'll get rid of it for you," he said as he grabbed my backpack and threw it far away.

"What a piece of junk, trying to take up my seat."

The medication in my bag spilled out everywhere as it flew through the air.

Damn it, my meds! My sedatives!

This guy is really asking for it.

"Oh, so many pills! Young lady, taking all this medication at your age - you didn't just have an abortion, did you?" the old man said with a look of disdain.

My anger had reached its boiling point, like a balloon about to burst.

An internal struggle raged in my mind. One voice said, "Go for it! Kick him! He's ugly and shameless."

I felt like I was about to lose control.

But another voice warned, "No, no, don't cause trouble. You won't pass the hospital evaluation and will end up in the psych ward. Don't be impulsive, impulsiveness is the devil."

Remembering my past experiences in the psychiatric hospital sent a chill down my spine.

I shoved the old man aside and picked up my sedatives from the ground, about to open the bottle and take some.

But the old man snatched the pill bottle from my hand. "Let me teach you a lesson on behalf of your parents. Young lady, you need to take better care of yourself and not do shameful things."

He was about to throw my pill bottle out the window.

"You'd better look carefully at what kind of medication it is and what it's for before you throw it. You might regret it," I warned.

"Don't make me laugh. I've seen plenty of girls like you. What else could these pills be but abortion pills? I'm going to throw them out and there's nothing you can do about it!" he said.

He opened the bottle right in front of me and dumped the pills out the window.

"Go ahead and try to get them back now, little girl. You're no match for me," he said smugly, shaking the empty bottle.

My mind exploded.

To hell with "impulsiveness is the devil." You can't blame me for this.

I grabbed a frying pan from under a lady's feet nearby and started smacking his face with it repeatedly.

I'd been wanting to do this for a while. I couldn't stand looking at his face any longer.

Before he could react, I kept hitting him all over with the frying pan.

For a moment, the only sounds on the bus were the clanging of the pan and the old man's howls of pain.

The other passengers came to their senses after a couple shouts but then just continued watching the show. Not a single person tried to stop me.

The old man had been too despicable earlier. Even the bus attendant pretended he couldn't squeeze through the crowd, watching anxiously from the back.

The old man cried out in pain, bawling like a child despite his age. Snot and tears were everywhere - disgusting.

After venting my anger, I finally felt less pent up.

I put down the frying pan and started picking up the remaining pills on the floor to put back in my bag.

When I picked up the empty bottle, the old man grabbed the frying pan from the ground and was about to hit me with it.

I dodged it swiftly, staring at him coldly like I was looking at a dead man.

He still dares to provoke me? He must have a death wish.

He said in a low voice, "Think you're tough, little girl? Come on then!"

Before he could finish gloating, with a loud thud, his whole body crashed heavily to the ground like a rag doll.

The frying pan in his hand fell and hit him square on the nose.

A piercing shriek echoed through the bus.

I shoved the empty pill bottle in his face. "Do you know what this is? It's your lifeline."

I took out another bottle of pills from my bag and threw it at him. "Go ahead, throw it out again."

The old man clutched the pills, not daring to move an inch.

"What's wrong? Want me to open it for you?" I grabbed another bottle, opened it, and forcefully threw it at him, shouting, "Throw it! Throw it all out! Don't leave a single pill! I'm sick of taking this damn medication anyway!"

He shook his head frantically.

"Not going to throw them? Then you can just swallow them all yourself."

He covered his mouth and shook his head vigorously.

I picked up the pills that had fallen on the floor one by one. As I picked them up, I said, "This one is taken on an empty stomach in the morning. So bitter."

I picked up another: "This one is taken before bed at noon. Doesn't taste good either."

I continued picking them up: "This is taken before dinner. Tsk, takes away my appetite for the meal."

I kept picking up pills as I spoke, until I had a small handful.

I stood up and walked over to the old man, grabbed his chin, and shoved all the pills in my hand into his mouth.

The old man's face turned bright red, his eyes bulging. He kept pounding on his chest.

"Tasty? Are they tasty?" I asked.

The old man nodded frantically, no longer caring about the bitterness in his mouth.

"Since you like them so much, have some more." I was about to pick up more pills from the ground.

"No more, no more. I'll never do it again," he pleaded, looking at me in terror. The fat on his face was contorted - he was clearly scared out of his wits.

He got lucky. Although I hadn't taken my meds in two days, I had just had a counseling session at the hospital. The doctor's words were still echoing in my mind.

I have to admit, even though the doctor was a bit long-winded, his words were effective.

If this had happened on a normal day when I hadn't taken my meds for two days, the old man might not have even been able to beg for mercy.

0