As soon as Lu Xin asked this question, everyone, be it number five on the TV, number eight who was tied up on the operating table, or number 14 who was smiling happily at number eight's fate and had been urging him to accept it calmly, suddenly fell silent.
"The old principal's plan" seemed to have become a taboo word, and the few people who were still quarreling just now instantly shut up.
It was also like a student in the back row who was singing loudly in the class. When he turned his head, he saw the form teacher's face pressed against the window at the back door. His cold eyes looked over, and instantly, everyone's activity was covered in a layer of frost.
Lu Xin's eyes were filled with anxiety as he looked at No. 5 on the television.
After a long silence, number five slowly pulled the scalpel away from number eight's head.
There was still some blood on it.
