Private school two or three things

Purple hair is very melancholy recently.

why?

...Uh...probably...because of that curly hair...right?

If you think that Songyang Private School just let students sit in the classroom and listen to the lectures, then you must not have watched the animation carefully.Songyang is such a far-sighted, wise, powerful, strategist, rich in ancient times, smart in today's ice and snow, with a high quality and a heart (hey!). How can it be possible for a person who only teaches literature but not martial arts?

Of course, as the teacher's caring little padded jacket (huh?), Zimao can always say proudly: as long as the teacher teaches him, he must do the best.There is no one in parentheses.

So relying on the future governor's extremely high IQ, as well as his passionate... respect and love for the teacher, Zimao did it without compromise.

Until the last kendo class.

Curly hair is actually quite innocent.

Great strength is innate, quick reaction is unintentional.Without these two advantages, he wouldn't be able to live today, don't you think?

And he didn't mean to be in a group with Zimao, draw lots...what's this called?Monkey poop? (...ape dung...)

More importantly, does Zi Mao understand the meaning of practice?Why did you stare at him so fiercely that he made his heart skip a beat, thinking he was playing for real, so out of instinct...

Zimao's wooden sword just broke...

[None of One] has never been established.

Zimao was in a hurry.

Because he saw the slight surprise in the teacher's eyes, saw the teacher pull up Curly's arm to examine it carefully, and saw the teacher propping his chin with one hand and meditating on Curly... There was such a sentence on the shadowed face of Zimao's painting Words: [I want to kill him. 】(Hello!)

...But, after all, it's just an imagination.

As the teacher said, "Companions, we must depend on each other for life and death."

He has always been the best student.

So Zi Mao secretly studied how to swing the broken wooden sword.

He practiced against the cherry tree in the backyard, practiced against the firewood pile in the yard, practiced against the fence, and practiced against his own shadow in the setting sun.

Practice until your hands are full of blisters.I practiced so much that I couldn't sleep at night.

The little devil with purple hair and green eyes gritted his teeth, held the wooden sword he stole from the sword room, looked at the curly hair snoring in the corner, and walked out without looking back.

Curly changed his posture, wiped his mouth, narrowed his eyes, and fell asleep again.

However, no matter how against the heavens our future Governor-General is, after all, he is just a single-digit kid, who will be molested by middle-aged women in the village when he goes out (such as pinching his face and rubbing his head, etc.) ), shy red face in front of the teacher, star-filled eyes when praised, happy and angry and crossed eyes.

Time hadn't picked up a dagger and thrust it into his bright and innocent eyes, and the bandages hadn't sealed his heart yet. Zimao was still that old-fashioned, a little (not a little) master-controlled, a little noble and glamorous kid.

The blue sky and white clouds are still printed in the green eyes.

So the point of the previous paragraph is—Zi Mao still couldn't break the wooden sword. (wrong emphasis!)

Not only that, but the bastard's arm was also strained due to excessive exercise.

Curly's comment on this is: Yes.

Songyang dug out the ointment for bruises from the top of the closet, turned around and saw Zimao's red face drooping, sitting stiffly on a corner of the tatami, he couldn't help smiling.

"Stretch out your hand." Songyang said softly.

Zimao stiffened and straightened his arms.

Applying the medicine on Zimao's slender arm, Songyang put the ointment into Zimao's hand: "Don't lift heavy objects with your arms these days, and don't touch cold water. The teacher will give you a massage once a day, remember to wash it off Take a bath and apply medicine."

Zimao nodded, pursed his mouth and did not speak.

Songyang looked at him amusedly, and asked again: "What does Jin Zhu want to say?"

Zimao opened his mouth, lowered his head and hesitated for a while, then raised his head to look at his teacher, his voice was like a mosquito: "I'm sorry..."

"Why are you apologizing?"

"... I am causing trouble to the teacher."

The red on Zimao's face gradually spread to his neck, and his eyelashes covered his green eyes of shame.Songyang looked at Zimao warmly, as if appreciating an unearthed treasure.

"Jin Zhu, it's good to be strong. As a man, you need to be the one to protect." Songyang put his hand on Zimao's little head, and his smile was stark, "However, Jin Zhu can take his time. You still have a lot of time to grow up and become stronger."

Zimao's eyes flickered, but he asked again: "But why did Yinshi..."

"Yinshi..." Songyang raised his head slightly, as if looking into the distance, "That child can almost use the potential of his whole body when he is fighting for his life, because he is able to save his life... because of his special past."

Songyang said, with a little pain in his eyes, and then he looked at Zi Mao, "There is no need to deliberately imitate. There are many kinds of swordsmanship, and the way of wielding a sword varies from person to person—Jin Zhu, you are you."

Zimao nodded, and solemnly wrote down the teacher's words.

Song Yang patted his head, stood up and put away the medicine box, then turned around and winked at Zimao: "Jin Zhu, who do you want to be with next time in kendo class?"

Zi Mao didn't even think about it: "Silver time."

"Yinshi's strength is different from ordinary people, and his speed is also superior. How do you deal with it?"

Zimao thought for a while, then raised his head and replied, "Use cleverness to attack flaws."

Song Yang nodded.

His students are growing.

The wig lying on the door eavesdropped very depressed.

"Is the teacher partial to Jinzhu?"

Then the next day, the wig was clear.

— That’s right, why would the teacher be biased?

Curly hair held a stronger and more exquisite wooden sword in his hand, and he danced vigorously.The curly hair tsk-tsk praised, saying that it feels good and has texture.

Later that kendo class.

It was still purple hair versus curly hair, the two brats fought in the sword room until the other people formed a circle and applauded.

The wig turned his head to look, and Teacher Songyang stood at the door, smiling quietly, like a Buddha.

Many years later, the weird brain of the wig could not forget this scene.

Even though his companions who came out of a private school at that time, one became a terrorist (are you okay too?), and the other was doing nothing.

Gui Xiaotaro, the leader of the people with lofty ideals, took his fascinated pet and looked into the distance like his teacher.

He must have not forgotten... those two bastards.