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Chapter Four
Jing Ci didn't understand his overtones, and was repeatedly questioned. His temper came up too, and he didn't speak with a cold face.
Ying Jiao hit him with his knees, and said lazily: "What about you, speak."
Jing Cixin said that you didn't believe it.
Seeing that the time was running out, he didn't want to continue to spend with Yingjiao, and said irritably: "Then what do you say, how can you believe it?"
Ying Jiao looked at his impatient appearance, feeling quite novel in his heart.
Ying Jiao asked the school doctor for a stack of letter paper and a pen, and threw it to Jing Ci: "Write me a letter of guarantee."
Jing Ci: "...This is not necessary."
Win the pride and smile: "You can do it without writing..."
Jing Ci raised his eyes and waited for his next words.
Ying Jiao looked at him with a smile: "From now on, you must report to me where you go, who you talk to, and what you say. For example, before going to the toilet, you must tell me whether the big one is big or the small one, and how long it will take. Once the time is over, you must explain the reason clearly so that I can analyze whether you took the opportunity to reveal the matter."
After a pause, he continued: "When necessary...I will personally check whether your reasons are reasonable."
Jing Ci looked at him incredulously.
"What's the matter, little brother." Ying Jiao smiled: "When I wrote love letters to me before, one after another, one letter of guarantee, still reserved?"
He rolled his eyes: "Should I keep your handwriting?"
Jing Cimu said with a face: "...Okay, I will write."
He unscrewed the pen cap and began to write stroke by stroke in accordance with the meaning of Yingjiao.
Ying Jiao glanced at it. On the school's self-printed letter paper with light red stripes, the juvenile handwriting was exquisite, free and easy, and extremely beautiful. At first glance, he had done a lot of work.
Ying Jiao's eyes gradually deepened.
"It's done." Jing Ci put down his pen and handed the guarantee to Yingjiao, "I'm leaving for nothing else."
Ying Jiao noticed that Jing Ci didn't put the pen skewed at all, forming a right angle with the desktop.
He glanced at Jing Ci thoughtfully, waved at him, and signaled that he could leave.
Jing Ci breathed a sigh of relief, without any nostalgia, and quickly walked out of the school infirmary.
Ying Jiao withdrew his gaze from his back, and glanced down at the guarantee book in his hand.
For a long time, suddenly, Jing Ci had never written a love letter to him before.
The experimental campus of the province is very large, which is divided into two parts as a whole.
One part is a newly-built teaching building for senior one and two and other schools, and the other part is a quadrangle courtyard with difficult conditions for senior three.
Jing Ci made a circle in the two parts before he found the gate of the school.
There are many small shops outside the school, one in two rows, densely packed together. Jing Ci only glanced at it and found two or three barbershops. He picked a sign and walked in.
It was the time of class, and there was no business in the shop. When he saw him, a barber brother immediately greeted him and asked him whether he wanted a haircut or a perm dye.
Jing Ci stretched out his hand and gestured over his head: "Cut it short and dye it black. How much does it cost?"
Those who do business around the school know that he was sent out by the teacher when he heard Jingci's request. The haircut brother is not surprised, and said with a smile: "The one-stop package for hair dyeing and cutting, there are 98, 198, and 298."
Jing Ci didn't even want to say: "I want 98."
The hairdresser tried to persuade him: "Don't use 298, let's get a 198. The potion of 98 is not good for your hair. Your hair looks smooth. It's a pity that you got hurt by the potion."
Jing Ci was unmoved, and firmly said: "I want 98."
Anyway, it’s just a few centimeters short. If you really hurt your hair, you can reduce the length.
"All right." The little boy haircut fastened his bib and said to the mirror: "What kind of hairstyle does the little handsome boy want?"
Jing Ci didn't quite understand these things, he didn't care, and he said casually: "You can figure it out, cut a similar one, just make the teacher feel incompetent."
The little barber snorted and laughed: "Okay, then I'll look at it and cut it."
Generally speaking, students who dye their hair in high schools like this kind of hair are stabbed, and their hair style is more important than fate. This is the first time he has seen such a Buddhist stabbing.
but
The hairdresser looked in the mirror and sighed in his heart.
With such a face, the stranger has to care about the hairstyle. With these facial features and face shapes, even a shaved head can lead the bald coquettish.
The haircut boy is very considerate. Taking into account the teacher's preference, he cut off most of Jing Ci's yellow hair, exposing his ears, leaving a little bangs on it, which is a very neat hairstyle.
After finishing the dyeing and blowing Jing Ci's hair clean, the haircut brother looked at the effect in the mirror and became jealous.
The dyed black hair is very thick, like ink. It looks a bit abrupt to ordinary people, but it doesn't feel inconsistent when it is placed on Jingci.
He has a good face and can hold up any color.
Jing Ci didn't take a close look at his new look. He glanced at his glasses and saw that his hair was black and short, and looked like a normal person, so he paid the money and walked out of the barber shop.
It was almost seven o'clock in the evening. Jing Ci spent eight yuan to buy a fish-flavored shredded pork rice bowl. After eating it in a hurry, he returned to school, just in time for the first night of self-study.
The provincial experiment emphasizes science rather than literature, and there are 12 classes in science. Among them, the first class and the second class are supernormal classes, the third to sixth classes are the key classes, and the remaining six classes are parallel classes.
The liberal arts class has one supernormal class and two key classes less than the science class. The total number of classes for the whole year is 21 classes.
There are many classes and many teachers, and an office simply cannot fit. It just happened that the school had just built a new teaching building with enough space to separate the offices of the liberal arts and science teachers.
Before Jing Ci came out of the science office on the third floor, when he was standing in the corridor, he noticed that the closest to the office was the supernormal science class: the second (first) class of high school.
If sorted by class, the second and seventh high school class should be on the same level.
As he thought, Class 7 was in the middle of the third floor.
All the way from the first class, it was quiet, including the eighth class next to the seventh class.
After all, with the teaching quality of the provincial experiment, a person picked up from a parallel class may be the seed of a key university.
But here in Class Seven, the style of painting has changed drastically.
Unlike other classes, most of the students in Class 7 come in through relationships. They are basically from good backgrounds and don't think about learning at all.
So when the other classes are serious about self-study, Class 7 is almost like a wild horse. It can't cover up the movement in the house through the door, and the lively is comparable to a temple fair.
In the classroom, He Conge stood up holding the book "Five Years of College Entrance Examination and Three Years Simulation", turned his head and cursed and said: "Damn, Li Shi is so insidious and so insidious. When he chooses his brother alone. Start."
Zheng Que was playing games with his mobile phone, and said with disdain: "So what, it's not because of Brother Jiao."
He congee: "Does I care about the result? It's the process! This process is very irritating, don't you understand?" Then, he pulled Peng Chengcheng next to him, "You say yes, Cheng Cheng?"
Peng Chengcheng said with a sullen face: "You ask Cheng Cheng to try again?"
He congee raised his hand and surrendered: "Mistaken words! We are fighting against Lishi on behalf of Brother Jiao, Old Peng, where is your focus? Your mental awareness is not high enough."
Peng Chengcheng glanced at him: "Higher than you."
He congee is a short fat man, and Peng Chengcheng is sure of this pain point.
He congee was furious. He jumped up and was about to beat Peng Chengcheng. Zheng Que just ended the game. He put down his phone and stopped him: "What are you doing, what are you doing?! Are you not talking about Brother Jiao doing Lishi?"
Yingjiao was playing with the square letter paper he had folded in his hand. Hearing this, he opened the letter paper and said: "Don't use this word, thank you."
He porridge covered his mouth and grinned trivially: "What's the matter, my arrogant brother, where do you think?"
Ying Jiao glanced at him thoughtfully, "I'm thinking, your game console was confiscated by Old Liu in the morning..."
He Conge’s smile gradually disappeared, and he pointed to Ying Jiao angrily: "Are you still a man? Brother, this is making injustices for you!"
Ying Jiao leaned back, leaned against the wall, curled his lips and smiled: "Well, let me listen to another one."
He porridge is completely fried, and he has to stand up and go to win the arrogance.
At this moment, the classroom door was suddenly pushed open. He porridge was so frightened that he was shaking his body. It was too late to turn around. Anxious and wise, he said to Zheng Que with a serious face: "Old Zheng, I lost my pen, help me pick it up. one time."
After waiting for a long time, no one responded. He porridge was so angry that he cursed inertly, and his tone became a little harder: "Old Zheng?!"
Zheng Que ignored him, staring in front of him blankly, and muttered: "You said, I will cut this hairstyle too, can it also have such an effect?"
The person here is not Teacher Liu, but Jing Ci.
He had a neat short black hair cut, completely revealing that good-looking face. His waist is no longer arched, his back is no longer slumped, and he stands upright on the podium just like a little white poplar.
He porridge turned his head and was taken aback. He told the truth: "You can't, Old Zheng, have a clearer self-awareness. You have to change your head if you want to achieve this effect."
The other students in Class 7 were also shocked. After a moment of silence, Class 7 exploded like water dripping from a pan.
"Fuck, is that Jingci? Why did he suddenly become so handsome and temperamental?"
"Is Jing Ci so handsome?"
Who in Class 7 doesn't understand Jingci, it seems like 502 has become a fine all day, and when you look at the opportunity, you will stick to win the pride. To Yingjiao's friend, he nodded and bowed his waist and murmured, while facing other people, he kept a sullen face all day long. If he accidentally touched him, he could curse for a long time.
But now, all the wretched energy and heavy yin in his body disappeared, and he looked refreshing and cold, and he was so handsome that he couldn't close his legs.
"Fuck Fuck, I confirmed the look in my eyes, this is the hairstyle, I will cut it tomorrow too."
"Hi, I thought I was dazzled."
………………
Jing Ci didn't pay attention to the comments of his classmates, he was worried about how to find the seat of the original body.
I thought that if there were any vacancies in the class, he must be his own, but he thought too simple, the evening self-study in Class 7...a large row of seats were vacant.
Jing Ci had to stand still without expression, trying to get a hint from below.
"No," He Zhou wondered: "What is he doing on top of it? Show off his new hairstyle?"
Zheng Que tsk tsk: "Maybe it is, deliberately showed it to Brother Jiao."
The less talkative Peng Chengcheng also nodded and agreed.
Only Ying Jiao smiled and appreciated the embarrassment under that cold face for a while. When Jing Ci's gaze swept over, he quietly pointed to an empty space in front of him, seemingly inadvertently.
Jing Ci breathed a sigh of relief, grateful.After getting off the podium, walked straight over and sat down.
He porridge opened his mouth wide and shouted with a weird face: "Jing Ci, why don't you go back to your seat and go to someone else's seat?"
Jing Ci stiffened, turning his head to look at Ying Jiao in disbelief.
The corners of Yingjiao's lips curled, he buried his head in his arms and laughed wildly.
This little pervert is really interesting and fun.
The author has something to say: Little Theater, Jiaojiao: found a funny thing...