11.

"Don't."

I felt some regret in the face of some eager faces from my math teacher, and yes, I was reluctant, I didn't want to.

But the old man's face, and the lovely female voice behind him, made me feel very embarrassed, and I just didn't say anything under the inexplicable measure.

In general, the student's silence to the teacher is acquiescence.

Absent a class representative,The math teacher said this to me.,And then I looked like I was trying to squeeze it out and seemed to be selling cute.。

I don't know if this is the teacher's real idea, but trying to make a gesture that at least looks amiable or even a little bit of an old naughty child, I still feel a little helpless not wanting to be left behind by the students.

Actually, it's really cute.,I'm not talking about expressions.,Of course, even the expressions have a unique cuteness when rendered like this.,I'm talking about this kind of careful thinking.。

It's like a cat who tries to maintain his posture of not asking for help, but rubs it on your leg once or twice, and the old cat is more appropriate.

But isn't it really relevant?

The silence, which I thought was tacit, was followed by a sigh of relief.

May I imagine how this old man endured the bad results of his class, and then worried about the danger of rejection, just because he saw a little student who could raise his head in his class?

In fact, I am even more puzzled by what is the reason for this quality of teaching?

If this continues, it is very likely that the teacher will be changed, although I personally have nothing particularly reluctant, but it doesn't matter at all, but seeing the failure of an old man still makes me feel a little compassionate.

So, was it the compassion that was stirred by this point or the voice behind me that made me take it?

I don't think my silence is just embarrassing, and I'm always a merciless rejection when I don't want to.

I'm probably better at saying "no" than many people.

"Congratulations, the math rep has taken up his post after a week and a half of absence."

How do I suspect that this guy is colluding with the teacher?

I just secretly talked to the teacher about it, and then when the teacher and I brought it up, I deliberately made some distracting noises, and then tricked me into it.

Tsk, that's the kind of guy you see, Rua!

Just when I felt that things were slowly coming to an end, I was ready to say goodbye to my teacher at the end of the semester.

It was one morning, and the head teacher, Mr. Yuwen, called me up in advance and asked me to stand in front of her within ten minutes.

I hurriedly got up from the bed, in the cold air, I shivered and completed the previous slow action as fast as I could, and then the school uniform was blown in the cool breeze, I rubbed my sore thighs and jumped directly off the bike, skillfully unable to push and pull skillfully, I gasped and ran to the 4th floor with the car locked there.

On the 4th floor, there are rows of wooden doors on both sides of the corridor, and in the deepest part is a door facing me that is perpendicular to the other wooden doors. There is my homeroom teacher, Teacher Yuwen's office, and as a psychology teacher, she has another identity, a senior officer of the school.

I climbed up the fourth floor from the stairwell without stopping, and I paused and knocked on the door as I moved my legs, which were sore and even more sore, and even more so because of the weakness I felt when I had just woken up in the morning.

There was no crisp knock as I imagined, because the door was not locked, and after the first barely decent knock, the dorsal joints of the index and middle fingers made diagonal contact with the wooden door, and then the wooden door moved open without a clear force point to unload the impact and the sound it wanted to make.

The door slowly moved away, revealing a somewhat familiar face.

It may be Mr. Yuwen, but another feeling tells me that something is different, it is an instinct that comes from the bottom of my heart, this feeling from the time I first got up, no, it was the first moment I received the call, before the teacher's voice rang, the moment I saw the string of unmarked numbers.

It was like a wild grass that grew wildly, tangled my soul and strangled my neck, forcing me to get here as fast as I could.

What exactly happened, I wondered.

My family lives very close to the school, in fact, when filling in the volunteers, I give priority to distance, it only takes ten minutes to ride a bicycle for most people in my grade, including me, in the grade where we still like to lie in the bed for a while, this advantage is simply the pinnacle of life.

Although the accommodation would have been better, it was an inexplicable feeling that made me decline the accommodation.

This made me ignorant of the current situation, and in the depths of my doubtful heart, maybe something was ringing the alarm bell, and the melodious bell turned into a word by Mr. Yuwen, and it exploded in my ears.

"See for yourself."

It was an envelope that had been opened, in fact, I still laughed at myself in my heart for the observation of this detail, how could I see it if I didn't open it?

But my idea is not comprehensive, the tear of the envelope is obviously worn, which means that it has not just been opened, and it has not been protected or hidden after opening, and it is likely that it has passed through the hands of many people. The frayed edges are rolled up and stained with yellow-brown handmarks, evenly distributed at 1/4 to 3/4 of the center. Half of the edges were clearly touched, which may have been a mental reaction to it.

The inquiring eyes cast to Mr. Yuwen also had a thoughtful look to reply, and I only saw a permission notice inside.

When I opened the envelope, which seemed to have been treated inhumanely, I also felt a sense of curiosity and pleasure in my hands. At first glance when I carefully pulled the paper out of the envelope, I saw a 16-carat sheet of paper woven with a variety of emotions.

Maybe not that precisely, but that's not what I'm concerned about.

There are 24 names written crookedly, each with a different style of painting, some characters are written in a beautiful way, some characters are written squarely, and some characters are written smartly, but there are also loose fonts, as well as crooked strokes, and a disordered structure. At first glance, I was perhaps surprised and confused, but quickly dissipated, and I felt a little more or less real through these different handwritings.

However, when I turned the paper around, I was far more surprised than before.

"Die, stupid teacher."

Below is a big head post of our math teacher, although I don't know how this photo came about, but under such a line of shocking bold fonts with such a smiling face, I used to make me feel a little cute math teacher's face, I still subconsciously looked away.

"See?"

What refracted from Teacher Yuwen's eyes was a sharp cold light.