Chapter 33 Test
There was no air conditioning here that would make one's head numb and slow down one's thinking. Fat Qi calmed down and thought about it seriously, and then he understood.
He was taking things for granted, forgetting that everything in the crevice was "created" by the Lord. No matter how lively and active it looked inside, as long as it was "created" and originally belonged to this crevice, no matter what shape or form it had, even if it had thoughts, it would only have one thought - the Lord's thought.
...Unless it is truly so cruel that all the 'people' inside are transformed from living people pulled into the cracks from outside.
Unless it is not, then the question on the blackboard is for the lord alone...it will have to spend time making more than forty copies, at least they cannot all be exactly the same.
...No wonder those 'students' already stiff expressions stiffened even more when they heard the pop quiz. That was their true feelings!
Qi Xiaopang couldn't help but complain in his heart: They may not be real ghosts, Brother Qing, you are really... cruel!
Qi Xiaopang really felt a little sympathetic towards the Rift Lord at this moment, but then he thought, "It doesn't have to do it, right?"
To put it mildly, I'm going to die anyway, and even become a ghost, so why should I listen to a 'teacher'? Of course, it's my job to make the decision!
Is it possible that there are people who love studying so much that they are willing to create conditions for themselves to do exams even if it means death?
Emmm... Looking at those 'people' in the classroom who were busy writing, Qi Xiaopang suddenly felt a little uncertain. What if the lord of this rift really loves learning?
"You're right. Of course it doesn't have to do it. On its home turf, it doesn't even need a decent excuse for such a trivial matter..." Qing Bai leaned against the wall, pretending to be chatting with the two of them, but his eyes were scanning the students working on their exams below, like a perfect invigilator. "It even tolerated writing forty-five exam questions. What do you think it wants to do?"
Qi Xiaopang shut up consciously. His experience over the past two days told him that his brother Qing was not questioning him at the moment.
Jiunian glanced down and said, "They might know."
This "they" naturally refers to Ban Bieyi and the three people who look like young junior high school students but are wearing adult clothes.
As soon as he finished speaking, someone raised his hand to hand in his paper.
It was the thin boy in the second to last row wearing a full gray suit.
Since the person was rather special and he was the first to raise his hand, Qing Bai went there in person.
Passing through rows of tables and chairs, the closer I got, the clearer I could see that the boy was really too thin. His entire body almost sank into his suit. He was dark and thin, like a malnourished elementary school student.
When he saw Qing Bai coming over, he didn't say a word, just raised his hand. In his hand was an answer sheet folded twice. It was impossible to tell what was written on it unless it was unfolded.
Qing Bai stopped in front of his desk and did not immediately take the answer sheet from his hand. Instead, he suddenly turned around - at that moment, he felt that cold gaze again.
However, when he turned around, he only saw the backs of heads. Jiu Nian, who was standing at the front door, shook his head at him, indicating that no one had looked back behind him.
Qing Bai frowned and thought to himself, there are fifty-two people in this classroom including them, and at least forty-five of them are open spies. Why should he look at people behind their backs?
Just as he was thinking this, a little head turned around staggeringly. It was the girl in the red dress. She was sitting in the third row, a little distance away from here. She didn't raise her hand or say anything, but just looked at Qing Bai from a distance with her pale little face, then made faces and lip-synced a few times.
It seems to be saying... 'Teacher, I don't know anything, what should I do?'
It seemed like she was just complaining and turned back without waiting for Qing Bai to respond.
Qing Bai turned around thoughtfully, and when he lowered his eyelids, he met a pair of gloomy eyes.
It was the thin boy in the suit. During the short time when Qing Bai turned his head to look elsewhere, he kept staring at him, his eyes, movements and posture not moving at all.
It was difficult for Qing Bai to describe what kind of look this was. It seemed to contain a despair as dark and overwhelming as the deep night, but in it there was a faint flickering light like a ghost fire that stubbornly refused to go out.
Qing Bai suddenly remembered a cold winter many years ago. For some reason, he stayed in school for a long time after school. It was not until dusk and the lights came on that he slowly walked out of the school with his schoolbag on his back. As soon as he walked out of the school gate, he saw the large blue plastic trash can across the street that had a lot of capacity fell to the side of the road. All kinds of garbage were scattered on the ground. A skinny stray dog that was so dirty that its color could not be seen was whimpering and searching for food in the pile of garbage.
Hearing the noise, the skinny stray dog turned around alertly, holding half a piece of greasy, dirty bread in its mouth, and stared silently at the boy from across the narrow street...
The stray dog seemed to have that look in his eyes.
Qing Bai raised his hand, pinched the corner of the answer sheet, and pulled it gently...nothing moved.
The boy squeezed too hard, causing the answer sheet to wrinkle and deform, and his knuckles turned white and blue. Despite this, he remained silent, still staring at Qing Bai with his gloomy eyes.
Many years later, Qing Bai once again felt the discomfort he had felt when he stared at the stray dog across the street... How did he escape from that predicament back then?
It seemed like... someone was running over from a distant street corner, holding a thin plastic bag emitting steam. The person squatted next to the trash can, broke the steaming meat bun into two halves, carefully handed it to the stray dog, and then, while the stray dog was wolfing it down, he quickly used the tip of his shoe to scrape the dirty half piece of bread back into the trash pile... He also borrowed a broom and dustpan from a street shop and put the garbage scattered on the ground back into the trash can.
By the time he finished all that, the stray dog, which had filled its stomach, had already run away. The man returned the broom, washed his hands, walked up to him, stuffed a cup of hot milk tea into his hand, and then said... what did he say?
Qing Bai suddenly came back to his senses, subconsciously smiled, and said softly: "You wrote it very quickly...The teacher will read it carefully."
The boy finally let go of his hand, and his lips, which had been tightly pursed, opened slightly, as if to say... thank you.
Qing Bai nodded, and when he turned around, his eyes met with the girl sitting behind the boy. The beautiful girl with thick, smooth, long black hair looked as if she had seen some kind of monster. She lowered her head in panic with a look of fear, and the pen in her hand almost left an afterimage as if she was writing furiously. But Qing Bai had good eyesight, and he could see from the corner of his eye that the answer sheet on the girl's desk was blank.
Qing Bai said nothing. He took the first answer sheet he had collected and returned to the podium at the front door. He glanced at Jiunian first, then said to him with a smile, "Everyone has their own expertise. I'm prone to making mistakes grading so many subjects by myself. Why don't you come with Teacher Jiunian?"
You are the one who made all the questions, so why are you afraid of making mistakes?
Qi Xiaopang just complained and didn't say anything.
Jiu Nian nodded and walked to Qing Bai.
Qing Bai was satisfied and carefully unfolded the wrinkled answer sheet... The boy's handwriting was quite fast. In such a short time, he wrote densely packed words on half a page. His handwriting was the sloppy cursive writing unique to adults. Although the accuracy of his answers was worrying because they were irrelevant to the questions, no one cared about that at the moment.
Qing Bai first quickly scanned it, then lightly tapped the first word in each line with his pale fingertips, from top to bottom, forming a straight line: "Please, help, me?"
If I remember correctly, the number one on the roster of Class 2, Grade 9 seems to be...banbieyi?
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