Zhao Mo still remembers the scene of coming to this school at that time. Pen, fun, pavilion www. biquge。 info

They came in through the main entrance, certainly not from the narrow angle they have now. At least three zigzag buildings can be seen - this is all the school buildings of the middle school; In the middle was a muddy playground with a tattered basketball hoop at the end of the playground, and there were five or six table tennis tables under the fence, and then they found a low, yellow-mud-clad old house with a black roof behind the teaching building, and even found a faint white character on it - "Good family planning".

What they see now is nothing different from then.

The faces of the trio from the city were complicated, but Chen Chuan was very happy, and he pointed out to the other people with great interest: "This is my classroom in the first year of junior high school, and in the second year of junior high school, we moved to the building at the back, the building on the edge is the high school, and the cafeteria is in the back." ”

"The row of trees in front of us was planted by the teacher on Arbor Day when we were in the second year of junior high school, but unfortunately two of them died later and were taken away by nearby farmers."

"What are you leaving?"

"We planted pine trees, and others want to smoke bacon, which tastes very fragrant."

"Oh......"

Just like Chen Chuan said, the entire second year of junior high school was still making up classes, and various voices echoed in the empty corridor: "We just talked about this question last time......" "Do you remember the usage of the inverted?" "How much does this horn and this horn add up?" "This place, we need to draw an auxiliary line......"

Chen Chuan showed a nostalgic expression. He quietly stopped at the back door of a classroom and poked his head out cautiously through the glass of the back door. Then he retracted and said with a smile: "The teacher saw me, and seemed to be glaring at me, he probably thought I was a student from another grade who came to the school to play." ”

He pointed to the stairs, meaning they went upstairs to have a look. The three of them understood, nodded, and walked up with a light pace like he did. Walking a little farther, Chen Chuan exhaled, then patted his chest, and said to them in a normal volume with palpitations: "That teacher taught me for a year before, he was very strict, and he liked to scold students. ”

Song Jia pointed downstairs: "You have also been scolded?" He asked.

Chen Chuan smiled embarrassedly and said, "At that time, the whole class was scolded, and the scolding was very ugly. He frowned, obviously thinking of particularly unpleasant memories: "For example, there is a person in our class who was scolded by him for being a pig's head in a rice bucket, just because other people's lunch boxes are relatively large, and he also scolded girls for ......" He vaguely paused, "Anyway, it was very unpleasant, there was a girl who cried at that time, and then the parents came over that night and almost beat him, which only restrained a little." ”

All three boys frowned in unison. In their school career, this kind of teacher with corrupt morality will appear in the rumors circulating among the students, but it is indeed a thing that has never happened to Chen Chuan in person. Conversely, as teachers get older, they begin to pay attention to protecting students' self-esteem, and at least in the cities, the promotion of quality education has changed the traditional teacher-student relationship in some ways since 2,000 years.

They had now made it to the third floor and stopped in front of the door of a certain classroom. There was no one inside, Song Jia looked up and found a handwritten wooden sign for the first and third classes of junior high school hanging in front of the door.

Maybe the students were careless, or maybe there was something else to use during the holidays, but the classroom wasn't locked. Chen Chuan tried to push, and the door creaked, overwhelmed, and then opened with the slight force.

Compared with the junior high school that Song Jia and the others once studied, this place is too old and too dilapidated. Old-fashioned wooden tables and chairs, a paint-mottled podium and a chalkboard that occupies an entire wall behind it. Chalk heads were scattered across the chalkboard slots and the lectern, and there was still some messy handwriting on the blackboard.

Except for the four electric fans overhead, there is no electrical teaching equipment. There were no projectors, no computers, no kind of teaching equipment that is now commonplace in urban schools. Later, they found a wooden protractor and a triangular ruler behind the front door of the classroom, but other than that, there was no more.

"This is my second year classroom." Chen Chuan looked around nostalgically, and then followed his memory to an ordinary desk, he circled around the desk twice, bent down to look in the hole in the desk, and reached out to touch it. Finally, he beckoned a few other people to come over: "Come on, come on, look at my table at the time." ”

"How did you recognize that?" Fang Ping asked curiously, "Did you use a knife to engrave marks on it?" ”

"We're not allowed to do that, we're going to have to pay the table if we are caught." Chen Chuan waved his hand and pointed to a missing corner in the corner of the desk, "At that time, this desk was broken once, and the seams were broken, and the seams were loose, and it was especially easy to get stuck in the pages when putting books inside. ”

Song Jia stretched out his hand and said with a look of surprise: "There really is!" ”

Chen Chuan smiled and said with a satisfied face: "Right? ”

The three of them glanced at each other, Zhao Mo cleared his throat and said, "It's almost four o'clock now, right?" ”

Song Jia had never been so clever - "Yes, yes, let's go down the mountain now, shall we?" He followed Zhao Mo's words and said, "You have to walk a little more from here to the town, right?" ”

Fang Ping nodded vigorously beside him.

The boys from the three cities realized for the first time that there was a huge and irreparable gap between them and Chen Chuan.

The first time Chen Chuan used the computer was when he was a sophomore in junior high school and secretly went to an Internet café in the town with his classmates, and he was reluctant to pay four yuan an hour, so he had to stand next to his classmates and watch for an afternoon. Song Jia and them, without exception, have been learning and using computers since they were in elementary school, and after entering the 2,000 years, their families have also purchased computers and opened broadband without exception.

Although they are the same age as Chen Chuan, in a sense, they do not live in the same world. If this is a 100-meter race, then their starting line is at least 20 meters farther than Chen Chuan.

This discovery made them feel uncomfortable. Compared with adults who take for granted the so-called urban-rural divide, teenagers are naïve and impulsive, they really believe that the world is good, that all life is equal, and that no one will tell them that your origin determines your school, your seat. They only think that poverty is an adjective, but they don't know that this adjective can make people feel the deepest malice and the saddest despair in this world.

So they couldn't stay in a classroom that held the memories of their classmates. Because they didn't want to show sympathy and pity for Chen Chuan—they didn't think Chen Chuan needed it either. But staying in this school, staying in this classroom, it's hard for them to keep their expressions. Perhaps others do think that Chen Chuan's junior high school is indeed good as a township middle school - it has three not too old teaching buildings, has basic teaching facilities, and maintains a good teaching order - but in the eyes of Song Jia, this sense is good, and it does not even reach their minimum.

On the way back, the city trio was silent, and even Fang Ping couldn't raise the interest in talking. Zhao Mo was the only one of the three who was not affected much, after all, he had been here once a few years ago, except for being surprised that nothing had changed here in the past few years, Zhao Mo didn't have too many other feelings.

They hadn't been in Triangle for long. On the one hand, Song Jia and the others had to go back to the county seat to have dinner at Song Jia's grandfather's house, and on the other hand, the town was boring and old, and Chen Chuan was sorry to tell them that this place would only be lively on a rush day, and that many small shops were not even open - most of them lived on the upper floors of the shop, and only opened for business during the New Year's holidays and the rush market every three days.

The pace of life in a small town is slow, but it's not easy – poverty is as obvious as ink spots on a blank sheet of paper. The boys see on TV a laid-back, old, beautiful and traditional old town, where the river is blackened and stinking with rotten and cracked stilted buildings, no urban planning, let alone public health – and they find two dumpsters full of garbage all the way down the street.

Song Jiamo watched all this silently. He suddenly understood why his father, Song Chu, easily agreed to let them come to this township, which had nothing to do with their lives. Father's arrangement highlights the greatest significance at this time - you should be grateful to your family, otherwise you will have to face a living environment that is not much different from Chen Chuan.

The three boys did not eat the "sorbet" that Chen Aiguo hoped Chen Chuan would use to entertain his friends. On the one hand, the three of them stayed away from the popsicles wrapped in slimy candy paper and obviously mixed with saccharin and water, and on the other hand, they really couldn't bear to watch Chen Chuan pay - the crumpled banknotes that had obviously been pinched in the hands of the owner for a long time made people feel sad. In the end, they found a cold powder shop on the street corner, a bowl of five cents, smooth and refreshing, much better than any popsicle drink; The store also sells cold noodles, a big bowl for one dollar, sweet and sour with a spicy taste, so that the four people who have walked for most of the day can't lift their heads to eat.

Because the road was just built at the beginning of the year, it only takes an hour to take the shuttle bus from Triangle to the county seat, and the four of them have time to stay until five o'clock to get on the bus. Chen Chuan stuffed the bag into Song Jia's arms and instructed him: "If you get motion sick, peel the oranges and eat them." ”

Fang Ping was amazed: "Where did you bring it from?" Zhao Mo also leaned out of the back seat and stared at the fruit in Song Jia's arms silently.

"My dad put it at my aunt's house in the town in advance, and when he came to pick us up in the morning, he put it when you left in the afternoon." Chen Chuan jumped out of the car briskly, ran to the window and said goodbye to his friends: "Be careful on the road!" See you at the beginning of the school year! ”

Song Jia looked down at the orange in his arms, exchanged a look with Zhao Mo Fangping in a complicated and indescribable manner, smiled and squeezed his head out of the car window and shouted: "See you at school!" Then he squeezed his eyes at Chen Chuan, and said with a smile: "Go home and check your homework well!" ”

Chen Chuan also responded with a smile: "You too! Hurry up and finish the rest of your homework! ”