C15 Decadal Dactyly(4)

The first two afternoon classes were composition classes. Upon seeing the language teacher, a reddish glow appeared in Liu Jia's eyes. Wow, this is the principal ten years from now!

Liu Jiayan's current language teacher was Lin Yanwei. She had an iron-rimmed golden eye and was in her twenties. She had just gotten married. He was Liu Jiayan's younger brother, Lin Jianjin's cousin, so Liu Jiayan should also call him older brother. Unfortunately, Liu Zaiyan's mouth was too tight, so he couldn't even utter a word.

Liu Zhaoyan couldn't help but sigh. She had always thought that her old uncle would be the principal under Yin. After all, he had the qualifications to be so old, didn't he? Furthermore, she had been in the county's Bureau of Education for two years. Who knew that her uncle's luck would not be good enough for him? The person sent by the outsider was a woman.

The female principal was called Xu Hua, and she was a sister of Liu Zaiyan's current form teacher, Xu Yan. They were all English learners. Liu Jiayan looked at the delicate Teacher Lin in front of him as his blood boiled. It was impossible to tell that you had the potential to be the principal!

Their composition class was two sessions a week, but because the actual course was slow, they generally wrote their composition every two weeks. Junior high school composition is more of a narrative lyric, 800 words can be tired of a lot of. Liu Jiayan took his own composition book, ha, the red word comment praised her good writing, then returned a beautiful big "excellent" word. Liu Jiayan flipped through his essay book and only wrote four chapters.

Their school was a new curriculum change introduced in 03. They used the experimental textbook for nine years of compulsory education. The old textbooks and the old ones all retired from the first and second years of their first year. Use the nine-year textbook and title.

For example, Liu Zhaoyan's elder cousin Liu Qing brought cicada to their first two sessions and studied old textbooks. In junior high school, they were still called the early years of the year, and in senior high school, it was Liu Zhaoyan's turn for Zhao Jiulin and Jin to become the grade of 789.

Liu Jiayan's language class was written in the language publishing house. They had now finished learning the first two parts of the travel notes and were talking about all the news. As for the last two parts, they had also learned only five poems and five poems. The three units in the middle, after seeing that the textbooks were clean, Liu Jiayi finally understood. The order of the language class was the same as before, with two in the front and one in the middle.

Liu Jiayan listened to the language teacher talk about the successes and failures of her last essay writing, which ones were good, which ones were off topic, and who she didn't hand over at all. Liu Jiayan flipped through his essay book and fell silent as he listened to the young Teacher Lin.

Sigh, thinking about her youth, she had an extra talent. Writing essays was too easy, with a perfect score, she was relaxed and easy. She didn't understand why a good kid like her, whose essay was accepted as a Fan Wen in junior high, would become the target of criticism in university, Nai? Willow wouldn't forget, even if she were beaten to death, the comments she got from her basic writing classes in college.

Her university had chosen Chinese literature. Although the school was not that good, its predecessor was still very loud. Bijing Normal School, it sounds like the old brand of good material. He changed his name to Bianjing University, which sounded even more heroic. Actually, it was nothing more than a junior college student.

You don't have to say. This school is small, so the atmosphere is pretty good. In other words, this city of Bijing had been nurturing thousands of years of poetry and writing. Even if one was not enlightened, as long as one could soak in this place for a few years, even if it was indecent, they would still feel sore.

Liu Jiayan had a specialized course called Basic Writing, which was taught by the director of his department, Xu Haijun. He was in his forties. His upper lip was covered with a slight beard and mustache, and he had a pair of glasses on his head. His voice was soft, and he felt weak.

Liu Zaiyan and the other girls in the dorm had nothing better to do. They gave each of them a code according to the characteristics of the few teachers they were taught in. One of them was a basic writing teacher, whom they laughed at and called continuous.

Liu Zhaoyan was speechless. She would never have thought that what her classmates called "talented girls" would become "primary school students' composition" when they finished their homework! It was a very short essay, she only got six points at most! Why did you need to bring it up and sneak out to let everyone have a laugh? What made Liu Jiayan even more speechless was that along with his unceasing pickiness, the results of Professor Li Bowei's application writing during the second semester were even worse than before.

During the continuous lessons, she could somewhat write it out and passed. In light class, she couldn't even write a note for leave! She was so depressed that her eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. At the end of the two classes, Liu Jiayi barely passed the test. She had originally thought quite well about her writing. Under the continuous and slight joint attacks, her sorrowful world broke down in an instant, and she was unable to find the focus and theme.

"After Lin Yanwei finished his last essay, he began to talk about the topic of today's writing." Last time, because we didn't finish writing in class, we did not write the question for the seventh unit. Now, there are only five poems left in the seventh unit. Cao Cao's Debate can be written now. Do you want me to repeat it and tell you how to write it? "

Liu Jiayan listened to his classmates asking questions at the same time. After Teacher Lin finished explaining the writing requirements and the things to take note of, the first period had already passed by 20 minutes. He brought cigarettes with him and looked at the students in his class with a frown. He scratched his head and began to write documents, reading through the relevant information in his textbooks. The composition book had been scrawled, painted, torn and written, that annoyance, too cola, too much love.

Liu Jiayan covered his mouth and squeaked happily. However, she did not dare to be too presumptuous. Other than Teacher Lin, who was constantly pacing back and forth in the classroom, there was also Xu Yan and Hades, the head teacher of the class. She hadn't forgotten those years of memories.

Yin Yin is a typical model in the northern education of the examinees. For the students' good grades, every teacher dutifully and responsibly treated the classroom as their home. Regardless of whether it was his or her class, whenever they had the time, they would go outside the classroom to take a look.

When the weather was warm, the back door of the classroom would open and the seniors would sneak into the classroom through the back door and throw themselves at the back. Who was napping, who was chatting, who was throwing paper balls, and who had a clear view of what was happening behind them?

The three form teachers that Liu Jiayan had experienced were all in their twenties. After they had finished their lessons, sometimes they would simply stop walking and sit at the empty tables at the back, changing their homework and listening to the lessons together with the students. There were too many people who had their bags seized. She had once been searched by Xu Yan!

In 2004, when small radios and tapes were in vogue, the school forbade them from entering school because they were afraid of putting songs on the radio that weren't available for listening. Liu Jiayi also caught up with the fashion, got a radio that her brother eliminated, the kind of headphones that cost two dollars each, white, very easy to spoil.

When she got the radio, her earphones were only ringing. Although this was the case, it was enough to make a big guy envious. After all, the economy in 2004 wasn't that good. They were all children from the countryside and weren't only children. No one was better than anyone else.

Willow smoke saved three dollars a week, just enough to buy a tape. She remembered that she had bought the tape at the school's only grocery store. It was filled with Chen Xing's songs. Along with Chen Xing's "Wandering Song", "Children Leaving Their Families", along with "The First Snow of 2002", "Two Butterflies", "Delicious Flowers", also burned in the smoky memory.