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Like all schools with a bit of history, Qingshi Middle School does not occupy a large area, and there are only two teaching buildings for the junior high school and the high school.

The two buildings are made of red bricks, with a total of four floors, arranged in parallel in the middle of the school.

A layer of thick green ivy tightly occupies the surface of the teaching building, almost completely covering the original red. Occasionally, when a gust of wind blows, the palm-sized leaves fluctuate and fan, and only a deep red like blood can be seen in the sky. day.

Bypassing a row of densely shaded sycamore trees, to the east of the teaching building are several old bungalows, which are the offices of the school leaders. Walking from front to back, you will pass through several dark brown doors, with the words "Principal Vice President" hanging on them. The signboard of the principal and the secretary, the last one is the office of the dean.

Gong Zijun was about to push the door, when he suddenly remembered something, raised his hand and knocked on the door.

Really just one click.

Because before the person inside had time to speak, he had already put his hands in his pockets and walked in casually.

However, the moment the door was opened, Gong Zijun glanced inside inadvertently, and suddenly found that the person sitting in front of the desk was not a person, but a thin, translucent paper figurine!

Hearing the movement outside the door, the paper figurine instinctively turned his head to look, and met Gong Zijun's eyes through the crack of the door, a distorted and ferocious expression immediately appeared on that thick and colorful face, with vicious and spiteful eyes.

There was a slight sound out of nowhere in the air, and with a "bang", before the door was completely opened, the paper figurine quickly inflated, and in the blink of an eye, it turned into a middle-aged man with a ruddy complexion and a slightly fat body, and he was still half bald.

It was the teaching director of Qingshi Middle School.

"Report."

Having already stood in front of them, Gong Zijun paused for a moment before opening his mouth lazily.

Seeing Gong Zijun like this, a trace of undisguised disgust flashed in the dean's eyes, he opened his mouth, as if he was about to spit out a few harsh reprimands in the next second, but in the end he suppressed it and deliberately softened it The voice was gentle and authentic: "Call the report before coming in next time. Don't worry when you knock on the door, wait for the people inside to let you in before entering."

Gong Zijun didn't bother to take care of this at all, his thoughts were still stuck on the scene in the crack of the door... and then he forgot about it.

All thoughts disappeared again, as if they had never been there.

"What do you want from me?" Gong Zijun's attitude was natural, without any embarrassment, as if he was the owner of this office.

The dean frowned, "Hey, it's like this, your former homeroom teacher, Mr. Yu, asked for leave. You know about this, right?"

Gong Zijun let out a "hmm" and said with a half-smile, "I'm afraid I will suddenly go crazy like my father and kill her."

"Nonsense!" the dean scolded, and felt that his tone was too harsh, and immediately relaxed again, "This is because you think too much, the teachers will never have such thoughts, and they will never have prejudice against you Yes, don’t you feel it these days? Or is someone bullying you in school? If so, you can tell me, I will help you solve it, even if I can’t solve it, we can still find the principal, don’t you think? ?”

Glancing at the attentive dean with a smile all over his face, Gong Zijun felt very uncomfortable for no reason.

"Well, isn't your teacher Yu pregnant? She will give birth in two months, and she really doesn't have the energy to lead the class again, so it's a normal process for her to ask for leave, and it has nothing to do with you. Don't think too much about it." Dean Explained on his own.

"You came to me just to say this?" Gong Zijun said impatiently.

"Ah, that's not true. There is indeed something I want to tell you." The dean paused as he spoke, as if he didn't know how to say the next thing. After thinking about it, he said cautiously, "Teacher Yu asked for leave. It’s impossible to let your class herd sheep. Our school happens to have a new teacher, and he will take over the work of the teacher and take you for a few months.”

The dean spoke hesitantly, and Gong Zijun became even more impatient, "Why, do you still need to ask for my consent for this matter? Do you want me to come over to help you interview?" He sneered, "Okay, others, call me in have a look."

"Hey, what did you say, kid... that's not what it means. This matter has already been decided. I asked you to come here because your situation is a bit special. The teacher wants to see you first. What do you think?"

really.

The murderer's son is like a deformed monkey kept in a zoo, and anyone who passes by wants to take a second look.

Gong Zijun felt disgusted and disgusted, but at the same time, he felt a familiar self-deprecating emotion, as if telling him that everything should be like this, that being treated and guarded against as a monster is the most normal and common situation.

As for whether he wants it or not, does it matter?

As if someone actually cared.

"Okay." Without concealing his sarcasm, Gong Zijun sneered.

"Well, he's outside. I'll ask him to come in." The dean nodded, not knowing if he really didn't hear it or because he thought that one more thing would be better than one less thing, and walked out while talking.

Came back after a while.

"Then what, Gong Zijun, this is your new homeroom teacher." The door was pushed open again, and the dean pointed behind him.

As soon as the words fell, a handsome and tall figure turned out from behind.

The visitor was wearing a brand new light gray suit, his shirt was buttoned all the way to the top, and his dark tie was neat and snug.

Dressed like a social elite, but his face looks like a college student who hasn't graduated yet.

The eyes are full of vitality.

"Gong Zijun, right? I am a new teacher at our school, and I will be your homeroom teacher from now on. My surname is Fu." The tall and handsome young man stretched out his hand and said with a hearty smile.

Gong Zijun stood still, just looking down at the hands stretched out in front of her.

The fingers are slender, the bones of the wrist are slightly raised, and the texture hidden under the cuffs is soft and warm.

The atmosphere froze for a moment.

It wasn't until the dean next to him couldn't help but want to speak, that Gong Zijun raised his eyes and looked at the person in front of him.

He smiled.

For the first time since the accident at home, I smiled from the bottom of my heart.

Gong Zijun stretched out his hand to hold him, and unknowingly gained strength, and held that hand tightly.

"Fu what?"

"Ok?"

"your name."

"Oh, this," the young man also smiled, "Fu Qitang, pray for the two words that begonias will bloom tonight."

Gong Zijun nodded, the sunlight outside the window was light, and everything was renewed.

It's April, and it's indeed time for crabapples to bloom.

It was 55:5 when I left the dean's office, and there were only [-] minutes left before evening self-study.

As a new teacher, Fu Qitang naturally has to go around the class, and maybe he will also check his attendance by name, which will ignite three fires for his new official appointment, and Gong Zijun also happens to be very reluctant. Skipping class is very rare to ignite the desire to love learning.

So the two walked side by side to the classroom.

"How old are you this year?" Gong Zijun asked abruptly while walking.

"25," Fu Qitang said, looking at Gong Zijun's gaze on his face, he couldn't help but smile, "Why, doesn't it look like it?"

Gong Zijun raised his eyebrows, even his tone was raised, "If you get 25 minus [-]?"

Unexpectedly, Gong Zijun would suddenly come up with a cold joke, Fu Qitang was stunned for a moment, and then said dumbfoundedly after a while: "17 years old, it's not so young."

"You don't look like a teacher." Gong Zijun said.

Fu Qitang was a little curious, and asked, "What does that look like?"

Gong Zijun had never thought about this question before, but at this moment the answer blurted out, "A star. You should be a star."

Fu Qitang shook his head, "Forget it, my acting skills are too bad, you will know later."

"What do you mean?" Gong Zijun asked puzzled.

"Because I'm about to play the role of a strict teacher," Fu Qitang sighed, raised his chin slightly, and gestured towards a certain classroom in the middle of the corridor, where all kinds of laughter and slapstick sounds were constantly coming out. Evening self-study is like having a party, "Strict teachers can make good apprentices, so I'm going to make the first shot in my career, understand?"

"Oh," Gong Zijun nodded, "Then I wish you good luck?"

"Thank you." Fu Qitang waved his hand, and suddenly moved a little closer, his dark eyes reflected two little Gong Zijun.

"Also, what are you, yours, you have to call me 'teacher', understand?"

"..."

"Any questions?"

A very familiar feeling suddenly flashed in Gong Zijun's heart, as if such a scene had actually happened somewhere, and someone looked at him with a little dissatisfaction just like now, waiting for his response.

"No," he heard his own voice was very low and soft, and when he uttered those two words, the air around him softened, "Teacher."

Good-looking people have a hard time intimidating others most of the time.

Therefore, even though Fu Qitang used his whole life's acting skills and tried to play an unsmiling teacher with the most correct attitude to increase his dignity, the effect was not ideal.

The classmates in the class were not afraid of him, and a few girls who were more courageous even took the opportunity of asking questions to ask for his WeChat.

Fu Qitang had already prepared for this, so he said his work account with a serious face. After several girls happily added him on WeChat, he realized that the style of this account was clean and serious, and his circle of friends resembled News Feeds.

After the evening self-study, the classroom was already empty before the bell rang.

Gong Zijun was still sitting on the stool in the same posture as before, with a paper with only a few questions spread out in front of him, the whole person was calm and indifferent, as if he was thinking about something or simply in a daze.

"Aren't you leaving?" Fu Qitang came over, took a look at the paper casually, his expression suddenly became very exciting, "Don't tell me this is your real level, I'm afraid I can't stand it."

Gong Zijun came back to his senses, smiled slightly, "I didn't write it."

Fu Qitang's face became even uglier, and he looked at him speechlessly and said, "You still let others do your homework for you?"

"It's not me 'letting', it's their request." Gong Zijun shrugged, "I just didn't refuse."

"That doesn't work either. Are you a primary school student? Do you still need me to tell you about your homework and write it yourself?"

Seeing Fu Qitang's serious face, Gong Zijun inexplicably felt a very familiar feeling, but just when he was about to think about it carefully, he found that feeling had completely dissipated.

Gong Zijun's eyes darkened, and a slight storm came and ended even faster.

After a brief pause, he calmed down, pointed to the wall clock on the classroom wall, and Gong Zijun deliberately teased Fu Qitang, saying: "Doesn't the teacher have a rest time? He's off work now."

Fu Qitang blinked his eyes, switched from the role of the people's teacher belatedly, then patted Gong Zijun on the shoulder and suddenly said: "You are right! But you don't need to call me teacher during the rest time, so Are you hungry late, let's go, brother treats you to supper!"