Quick Wear: Under the Skirt, All Beings Are Equal

When the first snow fell, the whistling cold wind blew Chang Qing all over her body, making her shiver uncontrollably. She reached out to tighten her gray scarf and slowly walked over with a stack of papers in her arms.

The school distributed winter cotton-padded clothes early on. Students wearing sweatshirts were wrapped in red cotton coats. A group of people gathered in the playground or stood in the corridor, chatting with the people next to them and watching the teenagers playing basketball on the court.

Lu Ziming is indeed unique among the crowd, and people can see his presence at a glance. Chang Qing, who was walking across the playground with the squad leader, paused and raised his eyebrows slightly.

"You're such a novice, you can't even throw this in."

The class monitor was a tall and thin boy wearing glasses, with a few pimples on his face. He looked very literary. When he heard Chang Qing's words, he burst out laughing.

Lu Ziming cannot be said to be the best, but he is also one of the best basketball players in No. 17 Middle School.

There were many clubs in high school. The most famous ones in No. 17 Middle School were the Street Dance Club and the Music Club. However, due to the heavy workload, students only spared some time every afternoon to participate. Lu Ziming was the founder of the basketball club, but because he was always causing trouble, the club was abandoned after the novelty wore off. The basketball club only lasted for three short semesters in the history of No. 17 Middle School.

"Who told Class 2 to keep making trouble?" The monitor chuckled as he glanced at the tense basketball court. "It's been going on for almost three years. When we were in the classroom next to Class 2, the English and Chinese teachers were all competing to see who had the loudest voice. It was useless to teach with a little bee. After a class, your voice would be hoarse. It's the same with basketball. No one is willing to give in. The people in Class 2 are always on guard against the boys from our class going to their class, for fear that they would hook up with the girls from their class. They even said that they only welcome the girls from our class."

"Yeah, I remember." Chang Qing also nodded vaguely.

As a result, Cheng Ran was not a kind boy and turned around and seduced the arts and literature committee member of Class 2.

In fact, there is no hatred or grudge between the two classes. Maybe there were some frictions in the beginning, but when I think about it in my senior year of high school, I can't help but think that it was just a small quarrel and made me laugh out loud.

But after a few years of not getting along, the boys in the two classes felt uncomfortable if they didn't do something humiliating for a day. When they met their brothers, they would always make a few provocative remarks.

Maybe, when they brag to others, it is because the people in their class bully the people in other classes, or maybe, in everyone's memory, their class is always the most awesome.

It's chilly in spring, and it gets even colder in the evening.

Since the English class representative was not present, Chang Qing, as the study committee member, took the mobile phone handed to him by the English teacher, silently glanced at the English template, then picked up the chalk and copied it down stroke by stroke.

"Those who have copied well can go first. The English teacher will select people to recite next Monday, and there are also recommendation letters that you copied last week."

There were ghosts and wolves howling in the audience, and everyone had sad faces: "How can we memorize so many things? The Chinese teacher has one paper, and the math teacher has another paper. After we go back, we have to write English essays and memorize words. The first class on Monday morning is the English teacher's, and it was changed last time. The English teacher will definitely select us for dictation during the morning self-study session."

"That's right. Every teacher said they would give us less homework, but they only gave us a little homework. I don't have any weekends left. With so much homework added up, people who don't know would think it's winter vacation."

"I don't want to copy anymore. I want to go home for the holidays." Someone was twirling a pen in his hand, looking as if he was giving up. He watched people around him copying, and then silently picked up the pen and started copying again.

The chalk was scattered and some fell on Changqing's eyelashes. She rubbed her eyes uncomfortably.

Her chalk handwriting was very beautiful, and even her English teacher praised it. When she wrote the last letter, she casually threw the chalk into her foundation box, and then lazily looked at the high school students below who were cursing and scrambling to copy English composition templates, with a malicious smile at the corners of her lips.

"I forgot to inform you that the senior high school students will have their holiday delayed by two weeks this semester. I heard that it was proposed by the head teacher of Class 5, and the school leaders unanimously approved it."

Classmates: “…” Sometimes I feel helpless and want to call the police.

He was so angry that he was shaking all over. The resentment in his body was enough to resurrect the three evil sword immortals. He would curse her as a bitch whenever he woke up in the middle of the night.

"No, that bald donkey is sick, right?"

"If he wants extra lessons, he can give them to the students in his class. Why do we have to suffer? The school ends late to begin with, and it's going to be delayed for another two weeks. I'm really pissed."

Someone said angrily: "Everyone, I have an immature idea."

"But our country has a mature set of criminal laws." The student who loved watching Conan put down the book in his hand and gently pushed the glasses on his nose, reflecting a cold and white light.

The student gritted his teeth and wrote with great force as if in a fit of anger. Each stroke seemed to carry a deep hatred, as if the English book in front of him was the head teacher of Class 5: "If I, Xu Jialing, had not been born, my study of Taoism would have been like a long night forever."

The classmates had no doubt about Chang Qing's source of information. After all, he was the teacher's favorite, stayed with the teachers every day, and knew a lot of gossip.

"By the way, if nothing unexpected happens, we will also start school early." Chang Qing once again lightly dropped a depth bomb, looked at everyone's tearful expressions, and left after the task was completed, hiding his identity and name.

They will be scolded sooner or later anyway, so it is better for them to dispel their impetuous hearts as soon as possible and stay in school honestly for the last period of time.

Tsk, but I have to say, this is indeed cruel enough for the senior high school students. I'm afraid everyone is already sharpening their knives to attack the head teacher of Class 5.

The street lights are not very bright, and cars pass by from time to time. Since No. 17 Middle School is located in a remote area, it is fine in the summer, but in the evening of the cold winter, the vendors close their stalls early.

At that time, there were few pedestrians on the street.

Occasionally, there were students from the first and second year of high school walking together in groups of three or four, holding a steaming roasted sweet potato in their hands. After taking a bite, they revealed an expression of enjoyment and squinted their eyes as they looked at the road ahead.

Chang Qing exhaled a cloud of white mist from her nostrils. A gust of wind made her want to sneeze, but her sneeze was blocked at the most critical moment. This blockage made her feel uncomfortable, and even the tip of her nose turned red.

"Boss, give me a baked sweet potato."

Chang Qing was standing in front of a stall and talking to the aunt who was roasting sweet potatoes. He looked around boredly, waited for a while, paid the money, and walked towards the noisy sound coming from not far away at a moderate pace.