A man with a pompadour stepped out, glanced at Qin Xinyu, and sneered, "What are you hiding for? You're all grown up, it's not like we can't look."
He reached out and snatched Qin Xinyu's bag.
Startled, Qin Xinyu cried out, "Give that back!"
She reached for it, but the man with the pompadour just toyed with her, tossing the bag back and forth between his friends.
Qin Xinyu was frantic. "Don't ruin the books inside!"
But the words had barely left her mouth when the books tumbled out of the bag in mid-air, landing in a puddle of filthy water.
Qin Xinyu's pupils constricted. She scrambled to pick up the books, but they were already soaked through, the ink bleeding until the words were illegible.
Laughter erupted from behind them, followed by a taunt: "What a piece of junk. That bag's quality is terrible."
