I'm all set, you don't even want to fuck me

Cong Jun had a long dream.

In the dream, he went back to the time when he and Yan Yiming had a car accident in college.

Cong Jun remembered that he had just finished his off-campus part-time job at that time, and several people suddenly surrounded him on the way back to school, and it was Yan Yiming who appeared unexpectedly and rescued him.

Not long after getting on Yan Yiming's motorcycle, there was an accident at the corner.

A van came from the side of the car. Yan Yiming turned right at that time and couldn't avoid being hit. Mr. Cong was knocked out uncontrollably.

At that time, Mr. Cong didn't know what Yan Yiming was thinking, so he dropped the car and threw himself on him, hugging him and rolling on the ground several times.

Mr. Cong was only slightly scratched, and Yan Yiming was lying on the ground with his eyes closed, blood was pouring from his head, his clothes were torn in several places, and blood was oozing out.

No matter how Mr. Cong screamed, he couldn't wake up, and he looked like he was dead.

Mr. Cong didn't know why he dreamed about it for so long, but the sense of suffocation and fear that overwhelmed him seemed real enough to engulf him.

Looking at the time, it was already nine o'clock in the morning.

A call came from the bureau to let him go. After all, there was a lot of accumulation when he was locked up for several days and had to deal with it.

As soon as he arrived at the door, Cong Jun stood by the wall and listened to the noisy voice inside, and suddenly stopped, leaning against the wall, lit a cigarette and smoked slowly.

"Hey, I heard that the second young master of the Yan family died?"

"Where did you get the news?"

"I don't know, I've heard of it. But didn't Captain Su say that the shot hit the heart, so it should be true."

Mr. Cong snapped the cigarette in his hand holding the cigarette, and the breath he exhaled along with the cigarette seemed not enough to vent the repressed riot in his heart.

Turning around and going to Su Hui's office, Su Hui saw Cong Jun put the documents aside and smiled: "Cong Jun, I heard that Yan Yiming..."

Before he finished speaking, Cong Jun grabbed his collar and punched him, as if he was puzzled, Cong Jun punched him down again, and finally pushed Su Hui to the ground and beat him hard.

Every punch came with a heavy sound, maybe it was too much noise. As soon as people outside arrived, they saw Mr. Cong sitting on Su Hui's body, grabbing Su Hui's collar.

A group of people stepped forward to pull Cong Jun and Su Hui apart, and Cong Jun regained his sanity.

Cong Jun was demoted to a small police officer because of the beating incident, and was kicked back to City S because he was late for work and always drunk.

Back in S City, Cong Jun nested in the old house for a few days. During this period, Cong Sheng called several times but was rejected by Cong Jun. Later, he felt bored and directly pulled him into the blacklist.

And the string of unfamiliar numbers in the mobile phone is always turned off when dialed.

Team Liu came once and left without saying anything when he saw the living room full of beer bottles and rubbish. Mr. Cong stayed in that environment for a few days.

The atmosphere was too depressing, so he opened a few bottles of wine and got drunk and fell asleep. After a week, Mr. Cong haggarded a lot.

When the door was reopened and the sunlight came in, Mr. Cong suddenly felt a little glaring, cleaned up the room, took a shower and went to the police station to report.

Although everyone in the police station felt that something was wrong with Mr. Cong, nothing happened all day long, until the time when he was taking notes for a gangster...

"name."

"age."

"Why fight?"

"Leave family contact..."

The gangster looked at the line of beautiful fonts, and couldn't help but interrupt: "Officer, my name is not Yan Yiming."

Suddenly, the entire police station fell silent.

Cong Jun stiffened his body, looking at the column of the name, and the three words Yan Yiming behind the name hurt Cong Jun's eyes.

Lowering his head and holding the pen tightly, Mr. Cong suddenly felt that the three words were too heavy, making him suffocate.

"police officer?"

Wang Qi snorted and took a form: "Come here, I'll make a record for you."

The gangster took a look at Cong Jun, and obediently sat down opposite Wang Qi.

Mr. Cong was wrong. He thought he was ready and adjusted his mentality, but in fact he was vulnerable, and he didn't even have the courage to face Yan Ruohao.

He was afraid that when he went to ask about Yan Yiming's news, Yan Ruohao's answer would still be those words.

Cong Jun, Yan Yiming is dead.