I found Chapter 152 very interesting.
Two or three days have passed in the blink of an eye, and things have been calm during this time.
This weekend, Cong Chun applied to participate in a volunteer activity.
It was founded by Mr. Xu as "Xuezhou" that provides free lessons to some children, mainly on simple calligraphy and painting.
At first, it was just Grandpa Xu, but later more and more like-minded people joined and participated in the "Xuezhou" family.
Although they were volunteer teachers, Grandpa Xu felt bad about it and wanted to pay them a salary, but no one wanted to accept it.
So the old man could only send some expensive holiday gifts on weekdays and holidays.
It just so happens that the teachers at Xuezhou Classroom in Pingnan City, which is next to Jinghai, have something to do this week and can't teach.
When Cong Chun found out, he volunteered to bring up the matter with Xu Binzhou.
The old man readily agreed upon hearing this.
Cong Chun's current skill level is more than enough to teach those children.
During this period, the boy would come to the studio to draw whenever he had free time.
Xu Binzhou saw all of this and was pleased to have such a diligent and talented student as Cong Chun, yet he remained humble and modest.
He healed all the "trauma" that Duan Mingxiao had caused him.
The Xuezhou Classroom is located in a small, economically underdeveloped county town under the jurisdiction of Pingnan City.
It would take about two hours to get there by private car.
Go in the morning and come back in the evening, that should be fine.
Sunday arrived in the blink of an eye, and Duan Mingxiao somehow found out about it.
The eldest son also insisted on going, saying that he was good at calligraphy and wanted to go and teach the children.
If we don't let him go, it's suppressing him, and his artistic talent will be wasted. In the end, it's the other children who will suffer more.
Duan Mingxiao's calligraphy is indeed quite good. However, Xu Binzhou did not object too much this time and agreed to let Duan Mingxiao participate in the teaching.
So Duan Mingxiao acted as the driver, and the two of them traveled for two hours to reach the Xuezhou Academy of Calligraphy and Painting in Pingnan.
During the brief visit, Cong Chun looked up and saw the children's innocent paintings on the wall, full of childlike fun and naivety, which were very cute.
The warm sunshine shone on him, and Cong Chun's mood improved.
Next, he went to a bulletin board and stared at the photos on the bulletin board for a while.
Duan Mingxiao seemed to notice Cong Chun's gaze. As if remembering something, the young master hurriedly stepped forward, raised his hand to block the photo on the bulletin board, and squinted his narrow eyes.
Don't look! Don't look!
[Don't watch this, Chun Chun.]
Cong Chun, who was bent over, suddenly burst out laughing.
The boy slightly curved his eyebrows and took the initiative to move Duan Mingxiao's hand away.
"I have already seen what's in the photo."
On the bulletin board of the calligraphy and painting academy, there is a photo wall that records some of the activities held by the academy, as well as the children who come here to study and the volunteer teachers who have come here to give lectures.
However, Duan Mingxiao hasn't come for a long time since he broke his leg last time.
In addition to preparing for the racing competition, he also met Cong Chun. Although he hadn't come much this year, the young master still donated a lot of money to the calligraphy and painting academy as an "anonymous person" to support the children's schooling.
If they are able to get into a specialized art university, Xuezhou will also sponsor them until they graduate from university.
The photo Cong Chun had just seen had a date written on it; it was from the summer of 2016, when Duan Mingxiao had just started his first year of high school.
This was his first time coming here as a volunteer teacher.
Duan Mingxiao's shoulders weren't as broad as they are now, and his hair was dyed a striking silver-white.
Although her hair color had changed, Cong Chun recognized her at first glance when she saw the photo.
That was Duan Mingxiao's most rebellious phase, and also the darkest period of his history that the young master least wanted to recall.
Now, when Duan Mingxiao sees his white-haired self again, he feels like a non-mainstream, tacky person and wants to curse himself.
However, he was still young, but had been involved in racing for more than three years. The young master felt that with that eyebrow bone stud, he looked incredibly cool.
Now Duan Mingxiao saw Cong Chun staring intently at the photo.
Duan Mingxiao froze, while the boy stood to the side like a wall, muttering to himself.
Cong Chun turned to look at him, and the boy subconsciously curled his beautiful lips into a smile. His gentle gaze fell on the young master, who looked indignant and dissatisfied, and he said sincerely.
"But I think it looks great."
[You idiot...]
In the photo, Duan Mingxiao, with his flamboyant and cool silver-white hair, is half-squatting on the ground, calmly raising his hand to wipe a little boy's nose.
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