"The subject of this class is "My Parents". The requirements are still the same as before. Okay, let's start drawing."
In the art class, Tan Shuanglei stood on the podium, wrote a topic on the blackboard, and then shrank aside and sat motionless in a chair.
He is like a speechless zombie, with sunken eye sockets and a languid spirit. He has no intention of demonstrating painting on the blackboard.
Seeing the irresponsible performance of the art teacher, the students were accustomed to taking out the drawing paper and preparing to start painting.
The art teacher is the only human teacher left in the school. He does not beat or scold children, eat the food prepared by the school chef, hide in the office after class, and never call anyone out, and he usually dare not fight back if he is bullied by the students. It's very.
Many students are surprised that the useless art teacher can live to this day.
However, the art teacher is really very careful. He never eats the meals prepared by the cafeteria chef, because they make a special meal every other time.
The appearance of this special box lunch is no different from ordinary rice, but it will cause abdominal pain after eating it. Then, soon a pair of pale human hands will stretch out from the stomach and tear open the belly abruptly. Knowing that, people will not survive after eating.
During this month, five or six children died from eating special box lunches.
However, the teachers have special stoves to avoid such disasters, and under the supervision of Ning Xiuli, students can't eat boxed lunches.
Therefore, knowing that there may be ghosts in the box lunch, everyone still has to bite the bullet and eat.
Fortunately, the fourth class's luck was pretty good. For a month, all the problematic box lunches appeared in other classes. There was no one who died from eating the box lunch in the fourth class.
...
Although the art teacher is very useless, the students are not afraid of him, and many dare to abuse him face to face for fun.
However, no student dares not to do the classwork assigned by the art teacher.
The head teacher of the two classes, one stands in front of the door and the other stands behind the door. Their faces were straight to the window, and they kept their eyes open to monitor the students inside, knowing that the head teacher was standing at the door, and the students were sitting in a hurry, all of them immersed in their paintings.
Bai Yan pierced his finger, dripped the blood into the watercolor pen, and also took the pen and smeared it on the paper.
A watercolor pen needs blood as a dye. The more you paint, the more dye is consumed, and more blood is needed to make up.
Everyone's blood is limited, and people who lose too much blood will become weak.
It stands to reason that students should paint as little as possible to reduce blood loss, but after each class, their paintings will be taken away by the art teacher and put into a scarlet cardboard box.
This scarlet cardboard box can judge the students' paintings. If the paintings are too perfunctory, the paintings will be spit out by the cardboard box. Then, waiting for the student is the punishment of the class teacher.
Therefore, even though they hate bleeding, the children still have small faces and pour a lot of blood into the watercolor pen in exchange for dyes that can be painted.
The subject of this class is "My Parents". They have not learned serious art techniques, but they still frown and try to smear the image of their parents on the drawing paper.
Because their biological parents can send them into this place cruelly, so in the hearts of children, the image of parents is not very good.
With the flow of time, a pair of twisted human figures with evil faces leaped on the paper, one more terrifying than the other. However, the children did not dare to relax, and added supplements to the drawing paper, as if the more they painted, the better and more plausible the painting became.
Bai Yan was quite inspired by the theme of this class, so she was a little lazy.
He only consumed a small amount of blood, drew two hanged stickmen on white paper, and pasted two pieces of paper on the chubby face of the stickman, even if the task was completed.
After finishing the painting, Bai Yan admired it, and felt that this painting would definitely pass.
He still understands the taste of scarlet cartons.
Although the stick figures he painted are very simple and have no facial features, they are better than true feelings and are based on reality. As long as the story behind the painting is moving, Scarlet Carton will be satisfied and will not spit out such a painting.
After completing the classroom tasks, Bai Yan put down the colored pens and began to quietly look at the students in the third class with his left light.
From today on, they and Class 3 will be students in the same class, and in the future they will have classes in the same classroom, and they will also rest in the same bedroom at night.
Unlike the honest students in their class, the students in Class 3 are very strange.
Some students in Class 3 have finished paintings, but they are still holding their pens, and they have a posture of drawing another picture at any time.
Unlike the students in Class 4 who only put a piece of drawing paper on the table, the students in Class 3 have two drawing papers on the table. One is filled with distorted grimace drawings, and the other is pure. Blank paper. Their faces are full of tension, there are inexplicable expectations and gloating.
Bai Yan found that they occasionally glanced at the students in Class 4, his eyes were full of bad intentions, and another was watching them snickering.
Bai Yan instinctively felt something was wrong, and if he always did, he would dig deep into the secrets hidden by the students in Class 4. However, his attention is now focused on one person, and he really has no intention of exploring the story behind the abnormal performance of the third class.
I skipped the third class of unfamiliar students, and Bai Yan fixedly stared at a boy sitting by the window, and couldn't move his eyes again.
The afternoon sun is particularly bright, and the soft light is scattered on the desks through the glass, coating the desks with a layer of golden luster.
This is clearly a picture that makes people feel warm, but seeing the boy sitting in the middle, the warm feeling disappears. No amount of dazzling sunlight can dispel the heavy chill that surrounds him.
The black-haired boy is holding a book in his hand and is flipping through the book casually.
Bai Yan looked at the book, which was a new edition of "Chinese".
After taking Ning Xiuli's Chinese class, all students know that the new version of "Chinese" is full of demons and ghosts, especially the third class also killed many people, you can imagine the content of "Chinese" book.
However, compared to the "Chinese" book that exudes a dark atmosphere, the person holding the book is more depressing, and just watching him flip the book, it feels terrifying for no reason.
He is Wang Ze.
He is Wang Ze.
Without seeing the person's front face, an unreasonable sense of familiarity made Bai Yan so sure.
Bai Yan stared at Wang Ze in a daze, probably because he felt his scorching gaze, Wang Ze suddenly closed the language document and looked up.
The moment he met Wang Ze's line of sight, Bai Yan's brain was almost blank.
Immediately afterwards, a familiar feeling of nostalgia surged in his heart, making him unconsciously conjure his mouth.
Such a reunion seemed to be the moment he had been looking forward to for a long time.
He seemed to have waited a long time, just to look at this man's face again.
However, looking at this expressionless face, Bai Yan didn't look at it for long, and his smile gradually disappeared.
There is no temperature in Wang Ze's eyes, and only the dark pupils are cold. The human nature has disappeared from him. All that is left is the boundless silence.
The excitement at first sight faded, and the feverish brain cooled down.
He glanced at Wang Ze again, turned his head and covered his mouth suddenly, retched twice, and suddenly felt nauseous.
"The subject of this class is "My Parents". The requirements are still the same as before. Okay, let's start drawing."
In the art class, Tan Shuanglei stood on the podium, wrote a topic on the blackboard, and then shrank aside and sat motionless in a chair.
He is like a speechless zombie, with sunken eye sockets and a languid spirit. He has no intention of demonstrating painting on the blackboard.
Seeing the irresponsible performance of the art teacher, the students were accustomed to taking out the drawing paper and preparing to start painting.
The art teacher is the only human teacher left in the school. He does not beat or scold children, eat the food prepared by the school chef, hide in the office after class, and never call anyone out, and he usually dare not fight back if he is bullied by the students. It's very.
Many students are surprised that the useless art teacher can live to this day.
However, the art teacher is really very careful. He never eats the meals prepared by the cafeteria chef, because they make a special meal every other time.
The appearance of this special box lunch is no different from ordinary rice, but it will cause abdominal pain after eating it. Then, soon a pair of pale human hands will stretch out from the stomach and tear open the belly abruptly. Knowing that, people will not survive after eating.
During this month, five or six children died from eating special box lunches.
However, the teachers have special stoves to avoid such disasters, and under the supervision of Ning Xiuli, students can't eat boxed lunches.
Therefore, knowing that there may be ghosts in the box lunch, everyone still has to bite the bullet and eat.
Fortunately, the fourth class's luck was pretty good. For a month, all the problematic box lunches appeared in other classes. There was no one who died from eating the box lunch in the fourth class.
...
Although the art teacher is very useless, the students are not afraid of him, and many dare to abuse him face to face for fun.
However, no student dares not to do the classwork assigned by the art teacher.
The head teacher of the two classes, one stands in front of the door and the other stands behind the door. Their faces were straight to the window, and they kept their eyes open to monitor the students inside, knowing that the head teacher was standing at the door, and the students were sitting in a hurry, all of them immersed in their paintings.
Bai Yan pierced his finger, dripped the blood into the watercolor pen, and also took the pen and smeared it on the paper.
A watercolor pen needs blood as a dye. The more you paint, the more dye is consumed, and more blood is needed to make up.
Everyone's blood is limited, and people who lose too much blood will become weak.
It stands to reason that students should paint as little as possible to reduce blood loss, but after each class, their paintings will be taken away by the art teacher and put into a scarlet cardboard box.
This scarlet cardboard box can judge the students' paintings. If the paintings are too perfunctory, the paintings will be spit out by the cardboard box. Then, waiting for the student is the punishment of the class teacher.
Therefore, even though they hate bleeding, the children still have small faces and pour a lot of blood into the watercolor pen in exchange for dyes that can be painted.
The subject of this class is "My Parents". They have not learned serious art techniques, but they still frown and try to smear the image of their parents on the drawing paper.
Because their biological parents can send them into this place cruelly, so in the hearts of children, the image of parents is not very good.
With the flow of time, a pair of twisted human figures with evil faces leaped on the paper, one more terrifying than the other. However, the children did not dare to relax, and added supplements to the drawing paper, as if the more they painted, the better and more plausible the painting became.
Bai Yan was quite inspired by the theme of this class, so she was a little lazy.
He only consumed a small amount of blood, drew two hanged stickmen on white paper, and pasted two pieces of paper on the chubby face of the stickman, even if the task was completed.
After finishing the painting, Bai Yan admired it, and felt that this painting would definitely pass.
He still understands the taste of scarlet cartons.
Although the stick figures he painted are very simple and have no facial features, they are better than true feelings and are based on reality. As long as the story behind the painting is moving, Scarlet Carton will be satisfied and will not spit out such a painting.
After completing the classroom tasks, Bai Yan put down the colored pens and began to quietly look at the students in the third class with his left light.
From today on, they and Class 3 will be students in the same class, and in the future they will have classes in the same classroom, and they will also rest in the same bedroom at night.
Unlike the honest students in their class, the students in Class 3 are very strange.
Some students in Class 3 have finished paintings, but they are still holding their pens, and they have a posture of drawing another picture at any time.
Unlike the students in Class 4 who only put a piece of drawing paper on the table, the students in Class 3 have two drawing papers on the table. One is filled with distorted grimace drawings, and the other is pure. Blank paper. Their faces are full of tension, there are inexplicable expectations and gloating.
Bai Yan found that they occasionally glanced at the students in Class 4, his eyes were full of bad intentions, and another was watching them snickering.
Bai Yan instinctively felt something was wrong, and if he always did, he would dig deep into the secrets hidden by the students in Class 4. However, his attention is now focused on one person, and he really has no intention of exploring the story behind the abnormal performance of the third class.
I skipped the third class of unfamiliar students, and Bai Yan fixedly stared at a boy sitting by the window, and couldn't move his eyes again.
The afternoon sun is particularly bright, and the soft light is scattered on the desks through the glass, coating the desks with a layer of golden luster.
This is clearly a picture that makes people feel warm, but seeing the boy sitting in the middle, the warm feeling disappears. No amount of dazzling sunlight can dispel the heavy chill that surrounds him.
The black-haired boy is holding a book in his hand and is flipping through the book casually.
Bai Yan looked at the book, which was a new edition of "Chinese".
After taking Ning Xiuli's Chinese class, all students know that the new version of "Chinese" is full of demons and ghosts, especially the third class also killed many people, you can imagine the content of "Chinese" book.
However, compared to the "Chinese" book that exudes a dark atmosphere, the person holding the book is more depressing, and just watching him flip the book, it feels terrifying for no reason.
He is Wang Ze.
He is Wang Ze.
Without seeing the person's front face, an unreasonable sense of familiarity made Bai Yan so sure.
Bai Yan stared at Wang Ze in a daze, probably because he felt his scorching gaze, Wang Ze suddenly closed the language document and looked up.
The moment he met Wang Ze's line of sight, Bai Yan's brain was almost blank.
Immediately afterwards, a familiar feeling of nostalgia surged in his heart, making him unconsciously conjure his mouth.
Such a reunion seemed to be the moment he had been looking forward to for a long time.
He seemed to have waited a long time, just to look at this man's face again.
However, looking at this expressionless face, Bai Yan didn't look at it for long, and his smile gradually disappeared.
There is no temperature in Wang Ze's eyes, and only the dark pupils are cold. The human nature has disappeared from him. All that is left is the boundless silence.
The excitement at first sight faded, and the feverish brain cooled down.
He glanced at Wang Ze again, turned his head and covered his mouth suddenly, retched twice, and suddenly felt nauseous.
