cry that scum

After the bullet was dug out, Lan Jing simply bandaged Cong Lang with the few gauze and bandages in the first aid kit.

"Damn." Cong Lang spat out the branch in his mouth, cursed softly, and leaned against the tree to relax for a long time.

Lan Jing raised his hand to wipe the sweat from his forehead, waited for a while and asked, "Where is the injury?"

"Left leg." Cong Lang said with his eyes closed.

Lan Jing bit the flashlight with his teeth, tore off Cong Lang's trouser leg and looked at it. His calf was already congested with blood, and it was swollen into a hideous purple-red color.

"Fuck," Lan Jing also cursed, tried to touch it, but didn't dare to use force, "Broken?"

"No," Cong Lang endured the pain and smiled, "It should be fractured."

Lan Jing didn't make another sound, got up and took off the shirt he was wearing inside, Cong Lang looked at his beautiful body line, and whistled Xianxin.

There were no tools available in the first aid kit, so Lan Jing had to fold a few branches to make a simple bracket to fix Cong Lang's legs, and tied them with a shirt.

Originally, Cong Lang used branches and vines to do a simple treatment in the jungle, but when he jumped up to attack people, the things on his feet scattered.

After finishing everything, Lan Jing rinsed the bloody bullet casings with alcohol and put them in his trouser pocket.

Seeing his movements, Cong Lang joked, "Favorite?"

Lan Jingjing nodded, put on his jacket with his bare upper body, and then said, "Give it back to Lei Shao."

"Come up." He squatted down in front of Cong Lang.

"Take care of the injury on your shoulder too." Cong Lang said while grabbing his clothes.

His knife was fast and sharp. Just when Lan Jing took off his clothes, he saw that the wound was bleeding out.

It was only then that Lan Jing remembered the injury on his shoulder, he let out a cry, sprinkled some hemostatic medicine, covered it with gauze and adhesive strips, and squatted down in front of Cong Lang again.

Cong Lang didn't refuse, and lay on Lan Jing's back. He was exhausted all night, and he really didn't have the strength to leave.

On the way back, Lan Jing realized that not long after he was called to dinner by Lei Shao, someone called Cong Lang.

That man and Cong Lang were old acquaintances in their hometown, and later they opened a racing club in City C, and Cong Lang went there to have fun when he had nothing to do, and the relationship between the two was very good.

So when the other party called and said that they were competing in Tianfeng Mountain, they met a difficult opponent and asked Cong Lang to come to the rescue, Cong Lang rushed away.

However, when he arrived at the scene, what was waiting for him was not his racing friends, but dozens of killers who wanted to kill him.

Cong Lang realized something was wrong. When he turned the car around and wanted to run, the road was already blocked. If he hadn't been strong enough and lucky enough, the body would have been cold by now.

Lan Jing sent him directly to Shen Bai's hospital, and waited on the operating table. In order not to worry Lan Jing, Cong Lang held on all the way, and finally he relaxed, and he passed out instantly.

In addition to the gunshot wounds to his legs and back shoulder, he also suffered injuries elsewhere, and it took hours of surgery before he was pushed out.

Lan Jing got up to meet him.

Shen Bai smiled at him, "The anesthetic has not worn off yet, and he will wake up later."

Lan Jing wiped his face and said, "Thank you."

Shen Bai asked Cong Lang to be sent to the sterile ward, then checked the respirator and the heart rate monitor and backed out.

He saw Lan Jing standing at the door and pointed to his shoulder, "Cong Lang said you were injured too."

"Ah," Lan Jing responded.

Shen Bai took off his gauze and took a look, "Go, I'll re-bandage it for you."

Lan Jing followed him away.

"He told you not to watch it, go back and rest." After finishing, Shen Bai said while packing up the tray.

Blue Point nodded.

He went home and took a shower, changed his clothes, and went out again.

The name of the racing club that Cong Lang mentioned was Teng Aircraft Club.

Lan Jing drove out his Kawasaki H2R, which had only been ridden once and left it ashes in the garage, and then took out his mobile phone and entered the name of 'Teng Aircraft Club' on the Baidu map.

The map shows the location of the club in the south of the city, 17.4 kilometers away from him.

Lan Jing twisted the accelerator, and the locomotive roared and rushed out.

When he arrived, he parked the car and pushed open the gate of the club.

The lobby manager who was on night shift inside greeted him immediately, "Hello."

"Who is the person in charge here?" Lan Jing asked straight to the point.

The man said, "It's me, do you want to join the club or watch the car?"

"I'm asking about the owner of this club," Lan Jing asked restrainedly.

The man froze for a moment, caught by Lan Jing's aura, and subconsciously replied, "He's in the office, what do you want from him?"

"Talk about business." Lan Jing pointed to the locomotive outside, "I'm short of money recently and want to sell it, do you want it?"

The lobby manager's eyes suddenly lit up, nodded and said, "Yes, yes, just wait a moment, I'll call our boss right away."

Blue Spot nodded.

He stood there and waited for a while, and then a young man with a short-shaved head who looked to be in his thirties came over with the lobby manager.

Lan Jing curled his lips when he saw him, looked at the other party and said in a cold tone, "The quality of my heart is very good, and I didn't run away when I hurt someone."

Hearing that, the man's face froze immediately, and when he was about to run, Lan Jing had already reached out and grabbed the young man's neck, and forced him into a room, then turned around and locked the door behind him.

After all, he had a little friendship with Cong Lang, and he wasn't too wimpy. The young man quickly calmed down. He looked Lan Jing up and down and asked, "Brother Lang called you here? He...how did he come?" Sample?"

Lan Jing didn't make a sound, but slowly took out a handful of three-edged army | stabs from his back waist.

Seeing this scene, the man bent his legs and fell to his knees, "I'm sorry, they threatened me. If I don't do that, I will die!"

As soon as he finished speaking, the military | thorn in Lan Jing's hand had pierced into the young man's thigh.

There was a sudden scream in the room, and the lobby manager who was guarding the door, hesitating whether to call 110, suddenly trembled and threw the phone in his hand.

The young man fell to the ground with his legs folded and gasped hissingly, his face was ashen, Lan Jing knelt down and pulled out the thorn, the hatred and fear that had been suppressed all night finally brewed in the depths of his eyes. storm.

The screams in the room lasted for a long time before Lan Jing walked out. He smiled at the frightened manager with a murderous air, and then left the Tengfei Club.

Next came Lei Shao, Lan Jing touched the bullet casing in his pocket and snorted.

When he opened the door of the house again, it was already four o'clock in the morning. Lan Jing glanced at his watch, threw the blood-stained military | stabbing on the table, and then took a small blanket and lay down on the sofa.

But he didn't dare to sleep, because what happened to Cong Lang, once he closed his eyes, he would definitely have a nightmare, so he had nothing to do but stared at a certain point in the space in a daze.

On the coffee table was the lazy cookbook that Ben Conglang bought a few days ago, Lan Jing glanced at it out of the corner of his eye, picked it up and looked through it.

It occurred to him that the guy was now a patient, and he had to take care of him in the future.

The cover of the book reads: Take care of your man's heart, feed his stomach first.

Tsk tsk tsk, it's just a broken book, and it's so hypocritical.

Lan Jing opened it very disdainfully, searched for a long time, and found an article on the recipe of bone soup, and studied it carefully.