Chapter 1 Colleges and Universities
[Colleges and universities: Often used to highlight the protagonist’s IQ and academic qualifications, however, professors actually lead trivial and suicidal daily lives. 】
13.
Although the students were sitting in irregular patterns - the first row was empty and the middle row was sparsely populated - Meng Chu still easily calculated the number of absentees.
Fundamentals of Software Design is a professional elective course and is quite practical. Such blatant absences on a large scale are nothing more than a guarantee that they know he is easy to talk to.
He glanced at his phone, and sure enough, several leave messages popped up on the corporate WeChat and the academic affairs system. Some had stomachaches, some had colds, and some "went back to their hometown on the weekend but remembered the wrong time and missed the high-speed train so couldn't come back."
This is normal. At least there is a reason. Some students even just leave a message saying, "Teacher, I have something to do and cannot come to class."
What's the matter? Don't you even want to take the trouble to come up with a decent excuse?
The moment he saw the news, Meng Chu felt a surge of anger in his heart, but it only lasted for a moment and he quickly suppressed it. He is an expert at suppressing his emotions.
Looking at the jagged head, he was filled with regret. When school started, I pretended to be carefree, thinking that college students are adults and should be responsible for their own studies, so it doesn't matter if they don't come. The teachers are trying their best to catch students skipping classes, and they are exhausted.
What a bad idea.
If you are not a master, why pursue the "master style"? It's too late to make rules now. Look at the teacher of Marxism-Leninism. He uses various methods to check attendance and ensures that all students come.
Of course, as a teacher in the scientific research sequence, he didn't care that much about attendance. As long as that person didn't come...
As soon as this thought flashed through my mind, a middle-aged man walked in from the door.
Meng Chu closed his eyes.
When the filling came out of the dumplings when I was cooking them this morning, I should have guessed that today would be a bad day for everything!
Thinking of this, he suddenly had a strange feeling: he seemed to have checked the almanac for something, and it turned out to be a good day.
The man's eyes flickered over him several times, and his expression of surprise was exactly the same as the one the dean had when he saw him in the elevator—he blended perfectly into the crowd of students and didn't look like a professor at all.
After making sure that he had found the right person, the other party came up to say hello. "Mr. Meng," the man said with a polite smile, "I'm the teaching supervisor and I want to listen to your class."
So unlucky! The supervisor only appears a few times during the semester, and happens to come when the absenteeism rate is the highest!
Sure enough, the man glanced at the classroom, then looked at the lecture notes in his hand, and said with a puzzled look: "Teacher Meng, the number of students in this class is not right."
Meng Chu forced out an awkward smile and was just about to find excuses for the students - they were busy with their main courses, tiring from the competition, and several of them had to defend their thesis for a national award - when the bell rang. The supervisor nodded at him and sat in the last row of the classroom. Because the last row was already full, a student had to vacate his seat and sit in the front row.
Meng Chu swallowed and started the class.
Needless to say, few people listened to today's class either. He occasionally looked around the classroom and could only see the dark crowd above and the reflections of cell phones. There is no need for them to secretly put their phones in the textbooks. You can tell from their expressions that they are not paying attention to the class.
Because the supervisor looked serious, his voice was more nervous than usual.
Finally, he finished the teaching content and left the class on time. The students rushed out as if they were fleeing a crime scene, and the supervisor slowly stood up and walked to the front row.
Meng Chu's heart began to beat faster.
"Mr. Meng," the supervisor looked at him, "you don't interact much in class."
Meng Chu nodded and stood stiffly, as if he was not a professor with an associate senior professional title, but a student attending a training course.
"You have to communicate with students, you can't just talk to them, how can they use their brains?"
Meng Chu nodded again and said yes respectfully. He had called on students to answer questions before, but found that this only exposed the fact that they did not pay attention in class. He felt it was awkward for both parties, so he gradually gave up.
"You have to find a way to get students to attend the class," the supervisor pointed to the empty classroom, "You can't just teach knowledge, you have to combine industry and education."
Meng Chu wanted to say, "I actually showed you some project cases, but you didn't listen carefully," but he swallowed it back.
The supervisor then pointed out fifteen other shortcomings and put forward thirty expectations for him.
The leader's meaning was very clear. He hoped that he could, in addition to obtaining the Youth Foundation, applying for the general entrance examination, and doing horizontal work, teach each class to the level of winning the first prize in the teaching and innovation competition.
Meng Chu calculated that as long as he worked forty hours a day, he would be able to meet his leader's requirements.
He prepares his lessons very seriously, but students are busy with their required courses and cannot devote too much energy to his classes. Some students come from Xi and use his voice as BGM for their compulsory course assignments.
Then, he said sincerely: "Thank you for your correction. I didn't prepare my lessons carefully enough. I will definitely find a way to improve it in the future."
The supervisor thought that his humble attitude was good, so he encouraged him: "You are a new teacher and have no experience, but as long as you are willing to use your brain, you will get better and better. You are a doctor of Sanqing, and I have great confidence in you."
Ever since he came to the school, every leader has to repeat those four words. Meng Chu already has PTSD and breaks into sweat whenever he hears them. But he still expressed his gratitude with a sense of mission.
The supervisor walked away with great momentum, holding the score sheet in his hand. Meng Chu stared at it hard, trying to see his score through the thick lenses and the back of the paper.
In the final evaluation of teaching, students' scores account for 70% and supervisors' scores account for 30%. He didn't want to report to the school leaders during the year-end evaluation because of his low teaching score.
The damn thing was that he still didn't see the supervisor disappear into the corridor.
Well, probably not high. I think he failed in the two major subjects, attendance rate and head-up rate.
After such a frustrating start to the week, Meng Chu felt depressed. He walked into the office with his computer bag, sat dejectedly in his office chair, opened the old office system, and then found that the invoice for the previous purchase of experimental equipment had not been reimbursed.
Previously, the team took on a weather instrument project, and the boss gave him the responsibility. The laboratory was in urgent need of a new tablet press and oscilloscope. Since the price was less than RMB 50,000, there was no need to go through the school's contract signing process. He paid more than RMB 40,000 out of his own pocket and bought the instruments first.
Meng Chu looked at the unchanged application progress and his brows furrowed deeper and deeper. Forget about taking out a loan to work, but can he spend less time in debt?
In the school era when people used QQ to communicate, he picked up his phone and carefully looked through his friend list several times, only to discover with pain that he had not added his finance teacher.
He had no choice but to do the thing that required all his courage - make a phone call.
Unfortunately, his courage failed three times. The other side didn't answer.
The afternoon working hours of finance have always been an unsolved mystery, doing Brownian motion between one and two o'clock.
After waiting for half an hour, the call finally got through.
After listening to his description, the finance department explained the reason why the application was at a standstill: in addition to the department's seal, the invoice also needed the seal of the research institute. Without the seal, they could not verify it.
Meng Chu thanked him, hung up the phone, and took a deep breath. Why aren't these clearly written on the system!
He took the invoice to the research institute again, and finally found the place to stamp it, but the administrative staff shook his head again. This chapter cannot be covered.
"Why?" Meng Chu's voice was a little weak.
"This is the old reimbursement process," the other party said. "We have just launched a new system. Please resubmit your application in the new system. The new system does not require stamping and the process can be completed online."
"But the finance department said..."
"They may not be in sync yet."
Then you guys are in sync! It’s so cold, my ears are almost frozen off!
This is not the first time. The Research Institute, Industrial Research Institute, and Finance Department seem to live on different planets, and information takes several light years to be transmitted.
People outside can live their entire lives without leaving their homes, but Lin Da, this creaking old machine, seems to be still living in the last century.
Meng Chu bit his lip, took a deep breath, and said, "Okay, thank you."
Okay, he started over again.
By the time he went back into the north wind and submitted his application on the new system, most of the afternoon had passed.
It’s almost time for dinner, and I haven’t done any serious scientific research yet.
The strange feeling emerged in my mind again: Shouldn't everything be going wrong today?
He decided to run a few simulations before dinner to comfort himself that he had worked hard that day.
However, before he even entered the laboratory, he ran into the new graduate students he was supervising this year. The other person looked hurried and frightened, and his pale face was just like the foggy sky outside the window.
"Mr. Meng," he said, "the server is down."
Meng Chu's heart sank suddenly. "What's broken?" He asked, hoping for a lucky break. "CPU? Memory? Chip?"
The student shook his head heavily.
If it was the hard drive that was broken, he would jump out of the window.
“It’s a hard drive.”
Forget it, jumping from the second floor won’t kill anyone, but my leg is broken. Who will take care of the project?
Meng Chu swallowed back the blood due to insufficient platelets. "What about the experimental data from the past few days? Have you backed it up?"
The student shook his head heavily again.
Meng Chu supported himself on the edge of the table with his hands. They will back up regularly, but it's unrealistic to expect that frequency to be daily.
"It was quite normal this morning..."
Meng Chu waved his hand and the students made way for him. He walked to the screen with a desolate and tragic step and confirmed it again.
My heart is completely dead.
God, please give him a chance to live!
Things couldn't get any worse, so they immediately replaced the hard drive with a new one. However, apart from a few important parameters, they couldn't remember any other data, so they had to start over again.
He rubbed the back of his head vigorously, trying to eliminate the pain that was coming, and finally sighed.
Let’s hurry up and work.
Who says people have to eat?
From afternoon to evening, he didn't look up from the screen, wanting to make up for the lost data as soon as possible.
It was not until the building gradually became quiet, the office lights were turned off one by one, and his cervical spine and back screamed in pain that he returned to the office, leaned back in his office chair, and let out a long sigh.
The light tubes on the ceiling were still as old as before, the lighting was still insufficient, and it still made him feel like he was going blind.
But something was wrong. What's different today?
The strange feeling came up again.
What on earth had he forgotten?
Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. That simple collision was like a question from the god of fate, which dealt a heavy blow to Meng Chu's mental state.
Who is it again...and what's the matter?
"Come in," he said weakly.
The door opened and a faint grapefruit scent wafted in.
"Are you still busy?"
Microelectronics professors don't wear cologne, nor do they have such nice voices.
Meng Chu was shocked, stood up and looked towards the door.
The other person smiled slightly, closed the door for him, and walked in, with the ends of his hair almost brushing the door frame. Part of it was because I was too tall, and part of it was because I had too much mousse.
Even though I have seen him several times offline, and have seen him countless times in station advertisements and shopping mall signs, the visual impact of that face is still strong. For a moment, Meng Chu's mind went blank. He even wondered why the person on the screen appeared in reality and why he knew his office address.
Seeing his confused expression, the other party raised his phone and shook it.
"I think you're too busy."
Meng Chu came back to his senses, turned on his phone, and was shocked to find five missed calls.
After the equipment broke down, he had to rush to repair the computer and do experiments. Troubles came one after another and he didn't even have time to check his phone.
After five missed calls, there was an unread message.
The Civil Affairs Bureau is about to close, I'll wait for you at the school gate.
Meng Chu stared at the message for a while, then stood up suddenly, and the cells in his hippocampus wailed collectively.
marry! He was supposed to get married today!
The author has something to say:
1. This book has a secondary CP, one of whom is the younger brother of the receiver, and the tone is a bloody love triangle. In the middle and later part of the book, there is a lot of space for secondary CPs, which tend to be group portraits.
2. As can be seen from the title, this book will focus on careers in colleges and universities, so the attacker’s identity in the entertainment industry is mostly a background board (in fact, I was scratching my head when I wanted to write about the entertainment industry, but I’m not very good at it).
3. The rules and regulations of each university are different, and the experience received has an element of artistic processing.
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
