Be at the same table with the rumored boss

26 Genius

Damn, what the hell did he do just now.

Su Mianyang's face was hot, and he retracted his hand and passed the pen over pretending to be innocent.

This is so embarrassing.

Su Mianyang seldom has anything to be ashamed of, but once he becomes hypocritical, it will be protracted.

In a daze, he put the book on his head and lay down on the table in a daze for two classes, and he was unwilling to move even when the fifth get out of class was over.

Zhang Hai, who was sitting inside, was in a hurry, eating was the biggest meal in the world, and Su Mianyang couldn't get out while lying on his stomach like this, so he jumped out of the window with his arms stretched out in desperation.

It's just that Zhang Haichao hasn't turned over like this for a long time. After all, he is unfamiliar with his business. When he landed, he staggered a few steps, and Liu Xiaodao took the opportunity to laugh at him for a long time.

Su Mianyang continued to pretend to be asleep with a sullen head. He noticed that after the bell rang, the students in the class rushed out. The whole classroom gradually became quiet, and there were only a few people left, including his classmates. Table Xiao Lang.

Su Mianyang complained in his heart, it has been so long since get out of class and he still doesn't go to eat and wait for the Northwest Wind, or is Bigu a basic skill of Xueba to increase the study time?

After a while, Xiao Lang touched Su Mianyang's elbow, and seeing that he didn't move, he shook his shoulder again.

If you don't "wake up" like this, the intention is too obvious, Su Mianyang reluctantly raised his head, looked at Xiao Lang and waited for the other party's next words.

"Eat." Xiao Lang looked at him, two simple words without any extra words.

"Not hungry." Su Mianyang buried his head in his arms again and replied sullenly.

Xiao Lang touched him again.

Su Mianyang raised his head slightly from the crook of his arms, and looked at Xiao Lang from the corner of his eye.

With his palms up, Xiao Lang stretched out his hand, "Give it back to me."

Su Mianyang didn't react, "What?"

"I am at the same table as a monkey." Xiao Lang was a little helpless, and when he spoke, the corners of his lips curled up slightly. This smile melted like an iceberg, "Don't be angry, I will give you the pen."

Grass, seductive and beautiful, and the kind who can read minds.

Su Mianyang felt ashamed that he was being hypocritical and yet was seen through by the client. He stood up abruptly, and slapped Xiao Lang's palm, "Here you are!"

However, just after taking two steps, Su Mianyang stopped again, stared straight at Xiao Lang for a while, and then looked at his desk, without saying a word the whole time.

Xiao Lang was stunned for a while before he realized, and handed over the pen on his desk.

Su Mianyang raised her eyebrows, took the fountain pen and stuck it in her breast pocket.

"You bring a pen with you when you eat?" Xiao Lang glanced at him, "For soup?"

"Old Liu said that pens are to students what weapons are to soldiers. Can't I go to dinner with the Italian cannons given by my tablemate?" Su Mianyang said.

This metaphor is equivalent to the effect of a nuclear explosion to the listener, Xiao Lang couldn't help laughing.

"Fuck, don't laugh." Seeing the usually unsmiling Xueba laughing non-stop, Su Mianyang even began to doubt the authenticity of the Xiao Lang he saw on weekdays.

The expression on his tense face gradually became subtle, "Can you respect me, I want to laugh with you when you smile, and I'm still angry, you've made me very embarrassing."

Only then did Xiao Lang stop. He glanced at the fountain pen stuck in Su Mianyang's pocket and quickly looked away. When he raised his head again, he had resumed his usual indifferent image of a student, and patted Su Mianyang on the shoulder, "Let's go." ,Soldier."

The fate between people is really amazing. If someone told Su Mianyang a month ago that he would have such a close relationship with the new student bully in his class, he would only find it funny.

The slap came so fast.

Su Mianyang turned his head to look at Xiao Lang, and the little classmate happened to glance at the back playground, and didn't notice his gaze.

Class [-] can’t be said to be very united, and there are also many small groups. Most of them play independently and have nothing to do with each other. Under the influence of the idea of ​​​​scores first, good grades look down on those with poor grades, and those with poor grades are not willing to provoke grades OK

Su Mianyang is not even acquainted with some top students in his class, so he is subconsciously sensitive to the word top student, and will never take the initiative to approach them.

But Xiao Lang is different, different from those top students who sit under the nose of the teacher in the class.

Su Mianyang couldn't tell which aspect it was, but he knew that he would not have a sense of distance from Xiao Lang because of his grades, and similarly, Xiao Lang's near-legendary grades would not bring anything to their relationship.

Or to put it another way, Xiao Lang himself is such a shining person, and he was attracted by such light, and unconsciously came to Xiao Lang's side.

The lunch break was very long. Originally, Su Mianyang just played with his mobile phone and then went to sleep, but this time when he was lying on his arms under the pillow, he looked down and saw the fountain pen stuck in his pocket.

After hesitating for a while, Su Mianyang took out a book of high school Chinese required to memorize from his desk pocket, opened the first page and began to copy.

Su Mianyang has a good memory. In the words of his former junior high school teacher, he is gifted in memorization. Although it is not as good as a photographic memory, he can remember most of what he reads once.

It is precisely because of this that he has been dubbed a little genius since he was a child. Every time he gets good grades, his classmates will look at him and say, "People with good brains are different. Good results."

The mind of a junior high school student is always extremely sensitive, especially when Ms. Zhao just passed away, he was terrified and felt that the whole world was hostile to him.

Su Mianyang gradually read different things from the words of his friends in the class. When he was reading a book, his deskmate would say, "Oh, Xueba is studying", and when he wanted to pull someone out to play, he would be clapped away by the other party, I'm not a genius like you, I need to review."

Su Mianyang didn't take these words to heart at first, until one day when his deskmate who had always had a good relationship with him regressed by more than ten in the monthly exam, he suddenly broke down and cried in his comforting words, "Why do I Is studying every day not as good as you? Is talent that important?"

It wasn't until that time that Su Mianyang knew what he looked like in the eyes of his good friends. He was a genius who didn't study anything at ordinary times and could easily get top in the exams.

He didn't know what kind of mood he was in when he returned home, and met the colleague Mr. Su brought home for dinner, and that colleague happened to be Su Mianyang's father at the same table.

Seeing him coming back, his colleagues praised him casually, saying that a young genius has a bright future, while Mr. Su waved his hand, "It's just a cleverness, it's not worth mentioning, and it doesn't necessarily mean what it will be in the senior high school entrance examination."

Later, Su Mianyang skipped class and played games with his deskmate. During the exam, he deliberately wrote wrong questions, and his total score dropped by dozens. After seeing his ranking, his deskmate said triumphantly: "Look, I told you earlier You have to study hard like me, after all, cleverness is not as good as real stuff."

Su Mianyang smiled and did not speak.

Later, his grades got worse every time, and he gradually fell from the top of the stable class to the middle and back position. He was also called to the office in private by the head teacher at the time to ask if there were any difficulties at home and if he needed help from the school.

Su Mianyang said that his grades are his own choice, and he has no regrets.

When the results of the final high school entrance examination came out, Su Mianyang accepted the admission letter from No. [-] Middle School calmly.

No matter how much he usually takes the senior high school entrance examination, he can't play games, and he still got into the best school in this county with his previous experience.

No one expected that geniuses would degenerate so thoroughly, especially Su Mianyang, who was regarded as a gifted academic god in the city's key middle schools.

Most of the students here have lost the first high school. Although Su Mianyang's grades in the later period were not stable, no one thought that he would really degenerate into the county high school.

The class teacher scolded him, saying that he had the ability to go to No. [-] high school but insisted on giving up on himself before the senior high school entrance examination. In the end, he ended up with such a grade and wasted his talent. Could it be that his goal is only No. [-] middle school? .

He told the homeroom teacher that his goal from the very beginning was No. [-] Middle School.

At that time, his thoughts were very naive and funny.

Since everyone thinks that he has such grades because of his good talent, and no one cares about his hard work anyway, then he will only rely on the bonus of his talent, stop working hard, and go to an ordinary school to study in high school , See how dazzling your talent can be.

Facts tell Su Mianyang that talent is important, but it is impossible to improve without academic performance.

At the beginning of the first year of high school, he could barely pass the exam relying on his capital, but it became more and more unbearable later on, until the current level that Lao Liu said was hopeless.

If he had known earlier that he would not have done it, otherwise he would have met Xiao Lang at No. [-] High School a year ago.

After copying the ancient prose in his hand completely, Su Mianyang read it twice and memorized it.

Although I really don't want to admit it, talent is really useful. Su Mianyang watched Zhang Haichao memorize this ancient text for a week without memorizing it. He took a self-study class and won it.

As soon as he thought of Zhang Haichao, someone leaned over and hooked his neck, "Brother Yang, the first session of history in the afternoon, mutual benefit, you understand."

History teacher Zhou Qingyang is a young graduate who has just started teaching students this year.

After each test, I dutifully pick up each student’s test paper. I ask the class teacher to ask for the transcripts of the whole class and compare them one by one. I like to ask students questions in class. If students can’t answer, they have to stand for a class. Copy the question three times.

This is Zhang Haichao's most feared teacher. Before class, he always pulls Su Mianyang to collude with him.

"Brother covers you." Su Mianyang put his arm on Zhang Haichao's shoulder.

Su Mianyang's history is quite good, not because of anything else, but mainly because of Zhou Qingyang's teaching method, he didn't want to copy it three times before he had to answer the questions, so he took it seriously in history class.

He learns things quickly and has a good memory. He is already good at this kind of subjects. With his talent and hard work, his level in this subject has always been good.

Su Mianyang overestimated in private. If he is willing to seriously write down the history topic, it will not be difficult to be the champion of a single subject.

"Is history something that people learn?" Zhang Haichao sighed, glanced at the weekly exam paper that Su Mianyang put on the table, and went up in one breath but failed to get down, "Fuck, you are all right about the multiple choice questions, how did you get fooled?" ?”

Su Mianyang turned the paper over and said, "Using probability."