797: 597 Tutoring_3 797: 597 Tutoring_3 The little devil that belies his age was not a new encounter for Jiang Chen.
Lan Peizhi’s younger brother, Martial Saint, was also of the sa sort.
Children from wealthy families tend to mature early.
Of course.
The Lan Family was an exception, a special case.
“What should I teach you?”
Jiang Chen asked casually.
“Teach how to pick up girls!”
“Pick up girls?”
Jiang Chen was taken aback.
ng Bei nodded vigorously, eyes sparkling, “You even managed to win over my sister, your girl-chasing skills must be incredible.
Bro, teach a few tricks.”
Compared to being called a brother-in-law, Jiang Chen found this ‘brother’ sowhat more bearable to the ear.
Looking at the boy’s eager face looking up to him, Jiang Chen said, aningfully, “I thought you weren’t interested in young girls with just fluff for brains?”
“I don’t like girls with just fluff for brains.”
ng Bei explained, “The one I like is our Chinese teacher!”
“…”
Jiang Chen’s eye twitched, “You like your teacher?”
ng Bei nodded unabashedly, “Yeah!
She’s so gentle!
And she’s so feminine!
She’s incomparable to those fluffy-headed girls!
Bro, teach how to get her!”
Jiang Chen broke out in a cold sweat.
Although he hadn’t been a model of good behavior in his youth, he hadn’t been this outrageous.
Pursue your teacher?!
“I have her photo.”
ng Bei seed to be reaching for his phone, about to show Jiang Chen.
“No need!”
Jiang Chen hastily interjected, initially wanting to explain that having a crush on a teacher was inappropriate and not allowed but then he thought better of it, realizing that a child with ng Bei’s personality and background wouldn’t bother with such moralizing, so he kept his peace.
“Let’s discuss your howork instead.
Bring out your assignnt.”
Jiang Chen changed the subject.
“Bro, can you write poetry?”
ng Bei suddenly asked.
“Why?”
“Our whole grade has an assignnt to write a poem with the Mid-Autumn Festival as the the, to be submitted after the holiday.
Didn’t I confess to her a few days ago…”
Wait a minute!
Jiang Chen hurriedly interrupted, “You confessed to your teacher?!”
“Yes!”
ng Bei nodded, puzzled at why Jiang Chen was making a fuss, “She said if my poem can win an award at school, she’ll agree to go on a date with .”
Jiang Chen was speechless.
Presumably, the Chinese teacher was well aware of the ng Family’s background and had devised such an excuse.
The child of a wealthy family certainly plays by different rules.
Otherwise, he’d likely have been sent ho or expelled long ago.
Without a doubt.
This kid’s academic achievents were probably abysmal, not to ntion winning an award, even getting him to write a decent poem seed a fantastical dream.
“Bro, my sister said you’re a top student; you should be able to write poetry, right?”
Jiang Chen fell silent for a mont, knowing that reasoning would do no good; he had to take a more oblique approach, “Chasing a girl is about sincerity first and foremost.
Your teacher asked you to write a poem…”
“I wrote it, but what I wrote is terrible, there’s no way it’ll win!”
ng Bei interrupted him.
One had to admit, the boy was quite self-aware.
“Let see what you’ve written.”
ng Bei imdiately did so, scrambling over to his desk to rummage through his things before handing Jiang Chen a notebook, “Bro, take a look.”
Jiang Chen took it and began flipping through.
And indeed.
The boy had indeed made an effort, having written several pieces, but the content was…
unsightly to say the least.
“The the is Mid-Autumn, why are you writing about the moon?”
Even lines like ‘looking up at the bright moon, bowing my head in hosickness’ were copied, revealing a scratching-at-the-head level of desperation—it was clear he had really tried.
“Isn’t Mid-Autumn all about moon appreciation?”
ng Bei asked, uncertain.
“…”
Jiang Chen was at a loss for words as he looked at the notebook in his hands, while ng Bei watched him.
The room fell silent for several seconds.
“Bro, my sister said you’re a top student.
Writing a poem should be a piece of cake for you, right?”
ng Bei queried tentatively.
Jiang Chen knew the boy was goading him, and unusually, he felt a bit of mischievousness stir, “Do you really like that teacher?”
“Mhm!”
ng Bei nodded without hesitation, “I even told my mom about her, and she said she doesn’t mind, that it’s fine as long as I can chase her down.”
“…”
Jiang Chen was silent for a mont, then said, “Hand a pen.”
ng Bei’s eyes lit up, and he quickly produced a Montblanc fountain pen.
Such a waste of resources.
Jiang Chen accepted the costly pen, pulled out a chair, sat at the desk, took up the pen, and wrote effortlessly.
“If you’re going to write about the moon, it shouldn’t just be about the moon.
Write about its waxing and waning, write about rain-soaked pear blossoms in the night, a solitary silhouette all alone.
Write about startled magpies on an alien branch, write about the difficulty to surpass distant mountains, write about the yearnings of a single cup of wine so somber and poignant.
Write about yesterday’s stacked brocade letters in the western chamber, a fleeting glance from the beauty, then about the snow that lingers on black hair turned white, and the fierce northwest wind that howls.
And only at the very end, suddenly break off your pen,
and weave yourself into the second half of the poem, singularly omitting the topic of parting.”
ng Bei’s eyes gradually widened.
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