Zheng Qing was under the desk.
He was squatting by the table leg, catching his breath due to a stomachache.
A few minutes ago, he had laughed inexplicably at the words of the stick figure drawn on the white paper, laughing so hard that tears had come out, and he went from sitting in front of the desk to lying on the desk, and finally slipping under the desk.
Perhaps this matter was not as funny.
Now, the Jamaican man standing at the entrance of classroom 201 in the main teaching building was eagerly scanning his surroundings, hoping to locate him quickly.
"I'm looking for Zheng Qing," the black man said, showing a set of brilliantly white teeth.
That sentence swept across the classroom like a gust of wind.
"He's looking for Zheng Qing!" Many were muttering, looking around.
Jiuyou Academy's freshmen were very familiar with this name.
