I listened to my sister's words today.

After each group leader collected the dictation papers, the thin papers floated gently in the air and were finally neatly stacked on the podium.

The teacher came over, took out a few cards casually, and frowned slightly.

After flipping through the pages a few times, his eyes etched with disappointment, he said, "Some of the students are quite good, but there are always a few who are 'dead pigs that are not afraid of boiling water' and always hand in a blank paper."

I won't call the roll. Everyone knows that tomorrow is the final exam, so everyone should try their best to treat it well. The teacher's voice is low and serious, as if giving the students a final warning.

After a pause, he continued, "I won't say any more. The class is about to begin. Everyone, turn to page 27 in your English textbooks."

He picked up the chalk and wrote a whole sentence of English words on the blackboard smoothly. Then he turned around and glanced at the whole class: "Yes, 'A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step'. This is what Lao Tzu said, isn't it?"

I sent everyone 100 proverbs yesterday. Do you remember them? He raised his voice slightly and looked at the class representative: "Class representatives, remember this: learn one proverb a day and recite it every 15 days."

The students below also began to read along, and the classroom was filled with the sound of reading aloud.

However, amidst this orderly voice, there were also some who took advantage of the situation. For example, Yun Yiruo in the last row stared blankly out the window with empty eyes.

I originally wanted to chat with He Jun, but after glancing at the serious old man on the podium, I thought about it and decided to immerse myself in my own world.

Sit down in your seat, pick up the eraser, and rub it again and again until it becomes a ball of mud.

Then, he picked up the transparent tape and stuck it all over the table and chairs. He tore it off and folded it again, playing with it repeatedly.

He Jun, who was standing by, seemed a little bored after listening to half of the class and wanted to chat with the new transfer student.

However, due to the stern gaze of the teacher at the podium, he did not dare to act rashly.

After thinking it over, he quietly wet a small piece of paper and began to communicate secretly on it. Time passed silently, and in the blink of an eye it was time to end the get out of class. The small pieces of paper on the table were almost full.

"Hoo, hoo! get out of class is finally over!" He breathed a sigh of relief, feeling as if his waist was about to break from sitting. "This class is way too long! Isn't it usually 45 minutes?"

He Jun said with a relaxed expression, "Although it's only 45 minutes, it's quite common for teachers to keep the class going longer than expected."

Before he finished speaking, the English teacher had just left after assigning homework, and a new old man who was slightly younger than the previous old man came in.

I couldn't help but complain: "No! Is this an endless connection? There's not even a break time? What if I need to go to the bathroom? Also, He Jun, why are all the teachers in your class old men? Aren't there any young and beautiful ones?"

After hearing this series of questions, He Jun slowly explained: "Actually, except for self-study classes, other courses basically do not have fixed end times.

If you need to go to the bathroom, you can raise your hand and report it. As for young teachers, there seem to be relatively few in our school, and most of them are over 30 years old.

"Ahhhhhh, I'm so fed up. You put so much pressure on me on the first day! Can't you give me some buffer time?" I couldn't help but complain.

He Jun looked at Ruo Yiruo and couldn't help but smile. He thought she was very cute and looked like a little fox.

Then, he reminded: "Okay, hurry up and take out your Chinese textbooks, this class is Chinese."

"Ah? You have four classes in one morning? Can you handle that?"

"No, we only have two classes in the morning. It's just that the English teacher had something to do in the first class, so the homeroom teacher came over temporarily and turned that class into a morning reading."

"Okay, okay." He took out his Chinese textbook helplessly and prepared to continue daydreaming.

In the silence of the classroom, the teacher at the podium slowly put down the ceramic teacup in her hand and walked out of the classroom with steady steps. A moment later, as if with a simmering anger, she walked back, holding a stack of test papers tightly in her hand.

The old man's brow furrowed, his gaze piercing as he stared at the class. "Recently, I've noticed that the grades of several students in our class have dropped significantly. They can't even confuse basic classical Chinese with modern Chinese sentence structures."

He paused, glanced at the report card, and said in a more serious tone: "The lowest Chinese score in our class has never fallen below 80 points, and yet in this exam, someone only got a measly 75 points!"

The teacher at the podium seemed to have a strange look in his eyes. His gaze fell on the back of the classroom: "Is that the new student in that corner?"

Yun Yiruo, who was leisurely sitting in the back seat, was suddenly called out. She seemed a little bewildered for a moment, hurriedly stood up, and stammered in response, "Yes... yes, teacher."

The teacher instructed without question: "Okay, then you come up. I want to test your basic knowledge.

The rest of you, take out your Chinese textbooks and start reciting the ancient poem I asked you to translate yesterday. Before school ends tonight, recite one by one and go. I will personally check your performance one by one."

Yun Yiruo was already somewhat bewildered by the teacher's constant stream of commands. In a short period of time, she suffered a series of shocks. Under the gaze of the entire class, she took a basic test and had to recite poetry.

He Jun gently patted Yun Yiru's shoulder and reminded her, "The teacher is asking you to go upstairs. Hurry up and take your books. Don't worry, no one will laugh at you."

Yun Yiruo was seen holding the brand new Chinese textbook tightly in her hand, her hand trembling slightly, as if the book weighed a thousand pounds.

He stood up from his seat with difficulty, his steps seemed a little unsteady, like a soldier about to step into a life-and-death battlefield, every step was filled with tension and anxiety.

Finally, I walked up to the teacher and carefully handed over the Chinese textbook.

The teacher took the book expressionlessly, expertly turned to a page, and then stared at Yun Yiruo with a stern gaze and said, "Okay, you recite 'Climbing Yueyang Tower' and 'Guizhixiang'."

After hearing the teacher's request, Yun Yiru was stunned for a moment. She asked in confusion: "What building? What osmanthus? Sorry, teacher, I... I didn't hear it clearly." Her voice was as thin as a mosquito.

The teacher frowned and raised his voice to repeat: "Climbing Yueyang Tower and Guizhixiang, let's recite them!"

At this time, the teacher standing on the podium had his back to the students below. Seeing this, some students sitting in the front row quietly picked up their Chinese textbooks and tried to provide some hints to Yun Yiruo, who was still in a confused state.