"That proctor harbored a grudge for fourteen years. And come exam day, when our dear founder—changed and transformed, all his youthful bluster reined in and replaced with an air of 'righteous propriety'—walked into that hall dreaming that his moment had come to change the world with pen and paper, blissfully unaware… a harbinger of vengeance was waiting to collect on his debt from all those years ago," said Chen Yung, laughing wildly as he slapped his thigh.
"Can you imagine the look on his face when he failed and him reaizing why?" Chen Yung burst out laughing until tears welled at the corners of his eyes.
Yang Qing outwardly kept a polite smile, doing all he could not to laugh like the old man before him, even though he wanted to. He didn't want to admit, even to himself, that he and Chen Yung were cut from the same cloth when it came to sadistic relish. Yet the glint in the old man's eyes as he looked at him suggested he already knew: he and Yang Qing were the same kind.
