daoxingyoustudent

I met Huang Tingjuan again while taking the shuttle bus that day.

The two have different class schedules, so they may not meet every time.

It is rare in the adult world to find people who talk opportunistically. Therefore, as soon as they meet, the two people talk endlessly. The discussions were all about poetry.

Huang Tingjuan also likes the poetry of Su Shi and Li Qingzhao, and she also likes the poetry of Qin Guan.

Fang Chen remembered that sentence, it is easy for people to be thrown away by the passing light.

Huang Tingjuan immediately said: "That's Jiang Jie's "A Cut of Plum Blossoms - Boat Crossing the Wujiang River" in the Southern Song Dynasty, and started to recite it.

"The sadness of spring is waiting for the wine to be poured out. The boat is rocking on the river. The curtains are moving upstairs. Qiu Niang is spending time with Tai Niang. The wind is blowing again. The rain is rustling again.

When will I return home to wash my guest robes? Silver character Sheng tune. The word "heart" is fragrant. It is easy for people to be thrown away by the stream of light. Red cherries. Green bananas. "

"It's amazing, I've memorized it all!" Fang Chen admired sincerely.

Not only Fang Chen, but also the teachers sitting next to him looked over with admiration and envy.

Huang Tingjuan smiled lightly and said: "Is there any specialization in the art? Don't forget, I am studying Chinese."

"These words and sentences are very familiar, like that sentence, the wind is blowing. The rain is rustling. The cherries are red. The bananas are green. But why have I never heard of this author?" Fang Chen was very surprised.

"Maybe he is relatively late. He was born in the late Southern Song Dynasty and was one of the four great masters in the late Song Dynasty."

"That makes sense!" Fang Chen nodded.

Yes, everything is like this. In its heyday, it is easy to attract people's attention. In its final stage, there is always a feeling that it is about to end, and most people will ignore it.

"He also has a song called Poppy, Ting Yu, which I particularly like."

Huang Tingjuan paused, thought for a moment, and then slowly recited:

The young man was listening to Yuge upstairs, the tent was dimly lit by red candles. A young man in his prime listens to the rain in a boat. The broad clouds in the river are low and the wild geese are calling in the west wind.

Now, listening to the rain at the foot of the monk's hut, there are already stars on his temples. The joys and sorrows are always ruthless, dripping from moment to moment until dawn.

Her voice was not loud, with a hint of hoarseness, but it sounded so snuggly, comfortable, and touching to the ears and heart, making Fang Chen feel endlessly confused and sentimental.

The girls in the first two rows who had been talking about clothes and jewelry had stopped showing off, flattering and comparing themselves. Everyone held their breath and listened quietly, feeling an inexplicable touch in their hearts.

Huang Tingjuan's low and gentle voice, like a sigh, had long since stopped, but no one dared to speak, as if they were afraid of breaking the mood.

Human nature is eternal, and people’s thoughts and feelings can be connected through time.

Huang Tingjuan's unique voice sent this poppy song "Tingyu" deeply to everyone's heart, and the hearts of the people in the car resonated with the poet's mood.

Even though eight hundred years have passed, and even though there is no such wandering life, everyone can understand the helplessness and slight sadness that the poet felt when listening to the rain.

The art class during this period was very fun.

Every time there is a new class, the teacher will first give an example to the students. In order for everyone to see clearly, they usually stick the paper on the blackboard, and it is at a slightly higher position.

Because he was painting with his arms raised, it would get sore after a long time, so Fang Chen painted very quickly. But strangely enough it often works out well.

Every time after class, there are always students rushing over to demonstrate their paintings. Those who didn't get the chance will seriously make an appointment with Fang Chen for the next time.

The classmate who got the painting was very proud.

Once, they even tore up the demonstration painting. Each person took half of the painting and ran back to his seat.

What's even more gratifying is that the students were surprised to find that they could hardly recognize their homework after it was sent back. Everyone held the painting and looked at it carefully. If it hadn't been for their famous student numbers on it, they would have suspected that they had picked it up by mistake.

At this time, everyone understood what the specific method the teacher said was.

It turned out that the teacher not only guided painting in class, but also carefully revised each assignment after taking it back, which indeed sublimated their exercises into works.

Seeing everyone's excitement, Fang Chen took the opportunity to say:

"However, my change was not in vain!"

As soon as these words came out, everyone fell silent and looked at the teacher suspiciously.

Fang Chen smiled, this was the effect she wanted.

"Every time you hand in an assignment from now on, you will take a photo. After the assignment is sent back, you will compare it. Write down where you have modified it and what your experience is. Send it to my mailbox. This will also be graded."

"Ah, that's it!"

"Teacher, no way!"

The students cried out in various ways.

But Fang Chen's heart was as solid as a rock, unwavering.

If you don't make it difficult for them, they won't take the initiative to delve into it, and then your efforts will be in vain.

Everyone's progress always requires their own hard work.

The hard work of others is ultimately an external force.