Although the situation was tense, the class still had to go on.
For the average score, for good seats, for territory, for the snow.
Tang Zhifei, Li Zheng, Lin Yujing, and Jiang Qinghua, all quickly adjusted their states.
While passing around model essays, Tang Zhifei's mouth didn't stop.
"The topic of this essay is a variant of last year's Shanghai college entrance exam question."
"'Prediction.'
"'Prediction is a pre-judgment about the future based on existing knowledge.'"
"'Some people are happy to accept predictions, while others are not.'"
"'Please write an article to discuss your thoughts.'
"Make up your own title, no less than 800 words."
"First, let's praise Liu Xin for not writing a poem this time. The teacher thanks you."
In the familiar laughter, Liu Xin scratched his head familiarly.
There's no helping it. Flowing teachers, iron-clad Liu Xin, it always had to be him.
But Teacher Xiao Tang was different. His teasing made everyone happy.
