Qingran walked out of the office with a gloomy head down, not even noticing Xie Ying’an who was standing outside the office door.
Xie Ying’an, who had heard everything Old Wu had just said, also remained silent, silently following Qingran to the classroom.
In fact, Xie Ying’an also thought Old Wu was being a jerk, but this ti it really suited his desires perfectly.
Although he really disliked reciting ancient poetry, with Li Qingran supervising, he should be able to reluctantly morize it.
All the way back to the classroom, Qingran didn’t notice Xie Ying’an following behind her; she was still imrsed in the miserable feelings caused by Old Wu’s inhumane remarks.
Honestly, she thought she was already doing quite well not needing soone else to supervise her daily studies, and now Old Wu actually wants her to supervise soone else, and even set up so sort of reward and punishnt?
What reward and punishnt?
It’s basically all punishnt, no reward.
Xie Ying’an’s dislike for reciting ancient poetry has been a problem since childhood; even his mom couldn’t handle it, so how could she?
Relying on the slight fondness Xie Ying’an has for her?
Tsch! Just thinking about it feels embarrassing.
Never mind, Qingran sat back at her seat, thinking she might as well just clearly repeat everything Old Wu said to Xie Ying’an. If Xie Ying’an decides just to copy, then there’s nothing she can do except copy along!
If Xie Ying’an doesn’t want to copy and wants to try to make an effort, that would be even better.
Although the likelihood of that happening was not great, but having so hope is better than none.
When the classmates saw Qingran return, they all quietly turned to gauge Qingran’s expression.
Li Qingran didn’t co back with red eyes like Wen Shiyi, so it seed she wasn’t scolded by Old Wu, but her complexion was still not good, probably also having been lectured by Old Wu.
Seeing this, the students in the class whose grades had slipped began to feel uneasy, thinking: No way? Just a few points lower, slipping just one position to second place and she was called in, so what about them who had dropped several places? Are they dood?
No matter how they speculated, Qingran didn’t call anyone else to the office after returning.
There were no teachers in the classroom at the mont, Ruan Ruan turned back several tis; her Brother An’s seat was always empty. Just as Ruan Ruan was about to go to the back to inquire what Old Wu discussed with Qingran, Xie Ying’an, strolling lazily, returned to the classroom from the back door, since Qingran hadn’t seen him the whole way, he intentionally ca back two minutes late.
Xie Ying’an had just sat down at his seat when Qingran turned her head to look at him.
Qingran hadn’t figured out how to start speaking to Xie Ying’an yet, simply staring at him intently, in reality thinking about how to bring up the topic.
Even if she spoke, she guessed Xie Ying’an would outright refuse, wouldn’t that be awkward?
The girl’s pupils were clear, her gaze like a spring that unintentionally made people fall deep into it.
Xie Ying’an, already harboring unspoken feelings for Qingran, how could he withstand such a gaze?
He found it slightly difficult to avoid Qingran’s gaze and lowered his eyes to the book in front, pretending to be clueless and asking her: "Is sothing the matter?"
Of course there was.
Qingran hesitated no more and tentatively asked him: "Do you find reciting ancient poetry difficult?"
Difficult? For Xie Ying’an, there’s nothing difficult about studying; he just simply didn’t want to recite poetry, feeling it both a waste of ti and not much help in exams.
However, Qingran’s question indicated so doubts about his mory not being that good.
Xie Ying’an replied nonchalantly, "Why suddenly bring this up?"
Qingran paused, then gestured for him to co closer and repeated exactly what Old Wu had just said to Xie Ying’an.
Hearing it twice, Xie Ying’an pretended it was the first ti he had heard it. He curved his lips upward, knowingly asking, "Does it an that if I leave one ancient poetry and verse question blank, I have to copy the entire poem 100 tis?"
Qingran nodded vigorously, pointing back at herself emphatically, "If you don’t fill it out, as your desk mate, it ans I haven’t played my role in urging you, so I also have to copy it 100 tis."
"Oh," Xie Ying’an responded indifferently, his expression revealing no reaction to the matter.
Qingran was a bit stunned. What did ’oh’ imply? Does Xie Ying’an actually know the ancient poems or not?
Before Qingran could ask for clarification, the bell for class preparation rang.
The first class was Old Wu’s, who was always the most enthusiastic about teaching. Almost imdiately after the preparation bell stopped, he stood at the podium.
This made the students, who had wanted to step out for a break, dare not run around and instead, they all sat obediently at their desks.
Old Wu surveyed the classroom back and forth several tis. Seeing that nearly all students had returned, he didn’t wait for the bell and started the lesson directly.
Midway through the class, Old Wu shifted the topic to the 20th anniversary school celebration that would occur after the sumr holidays.
He cleared his throat, his expression sowhat proud: "...currently, it’s known only Classes 2-6 and 2-2 are preparing performances. As the top class of the sophomore year, we naturally have to prepare so performances as well. Those who are skilled should actively sign up to participate..."
Qingran tightened her grip on her pen slightly; this scenario exactly matched the mories that suddenly flooded her mind during her biology exam.
The difference was, in her mories, the school was actually holding the 20th anniversary celebration. It was this event that allowed the female protagonist Wen Shiyi to beco highly prominent at school, and it also laid the groundwork for why Li Qingran and Huang Qianyu would later sabotage her in the book.
Jealousy, it makes people lose their nature and rationality; it really is a terrifying thing.
Old Wu handed over the task of tallying the students’ choice of performances to the Study Commissioner.
After class, the Study Commissioner, looking distressed, was taking notes of the students’ desired performances seat by seat.
When it was Qingran’s turn, she glanced at the list he had noted. The solo performance category of Wen Shiyi singing a Jiangnan tune was particularly striking, just as it was described in the book.
From her recollections, she already knew how stunningly Wen Shiyi’s Jiangnan tune was sung; it seed that these predestined events couldn’t escape the shackles of fate after all.
The Study Commissioner was extrely patient. He asked Qingran with a smile, "Li Qingran, what performance are you planning to do?"
Qingran pointed to the most popular choice on his notebook, "Just this - the choir."
Choir, as the na implies, ant the classmates singing together.
The Study Commissioner nodded, adding Qingran’s na to the choir list, then turned his attention to Xie Ying’an.
Xie Ying’an glanced coldly at the Study Commissioner and said tersely, "Not participating."
"Ah, alright, Brother An." The Study Commissioner didn’t write Xie Ying’an’s na in the notebook and walked away, nodding and bowing.
Watching the whole process, Qingran: "..."
What on earth had Xie Ying’an done usually? To make such a bookworm fear him like that?
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