For the first time, Qian Mai, who was honored as a representative of the pseudo-mathematics class, walked to the teacher's dormitory after he collected all his homework books early.
The teacher’s dormitory is on the left hand side of the teaching building, and it is only a few steps through the corridor. At this moment, the aisle was filled with a faint smell of food, and occasionally the clanging of dishes and chopsticks came from the cracks in the door. Take a closer look. At this time, you will see the gentle and elegant teachers on the podium, taking off their coats, pulling up their sleeves, and burying their heads and mouths chewing food in disregard of their image.
Tan Xiangyang's room is on the innermost side of the second floor. When Qian Mai knocked on the door, he was eating steamed buns with cold soda. The layout of the room is very simple, with a bed, a bookcase, a desk, and a dining table. There are also some rice cookers, kerosene stoves, pots and pans and tableware on it, all of which have accumulated a little dust. It is just a spare decoration if you want to come. Nature.
Tan Xiangyang was still handsome and straight-eyed, but his face was as white as a rice cake. When I opened the door, I saw the new mathematics class representative. I took a stack of homework and placed it on the desk. It was not surprising that Qianmai followed up with it. He remembers this student well, his name is very popular, he does his homework very fast, and he is a little match girl. He also happened to have some questions that he wanted to investigate.
Tan Xiangyang opened his head: "Do you like mathematics?"
"like."
Tan Xiangyang continued to ask: "How is my math class? Can you understand it?"
Qianmai didn't hesitate to think about it: "It's very interesting, "The Debate in the Kingdom of Mathematics" and "The Monkey King Splitting Matches" I like these things." Tell someone that your hard work did not yield little effect. In this case, Latent Wheat can't say it, even for an adult, it is frustrating and disappointing.
Tan Xiangyang smiled lightly: "After that, you have to work harder. You didn't get a full score in this test, so keep on working hard."
"Yes." Qianmai weighed it and said when the time was almost time: "Tan Teacher, I have something to ask you."
"Oh?" Tan Xiangyang was amused by the seriousness of the student in front of him, and nodded to encourage her to continue.
"I saw you publishing a blackboard paper a few times ago. The pictures and texts are beautiful. The illustrations on it are beautiful. I wanted to learn how to draw from you a long time ago."
Tan Xiangyang did not answer and asked, "Why not learn from Teacher Zhang?"
Qian Mai Gu said to him: "I like to learn from Teacher Tan." The actual situation is that Nanjiang Township School has no professional art and music teachers at all. Zhang Xuemei, like Lan Yifeng, is self-taught and has no formal teacher education. She has always regarded art as a minor subject, allowing students to paint and paint casually according to art textbooks. Instead, she encourages students to read books and do their homework.
Tan Xiangyang did not reject it. After the mid-term exams, he was somewhat lost. In the low tide, a student came to the door to ask for something to learn. As a teacher, he couldn't help but say that he was touched, so he persuaded him and said, "Then what do you want to paint?"
Qianmai quickly took out "Sketch Tutorial" from his schoolbag and handed it over. Tan Xiangyang turned over and said, "This is a bit difficult for you. I only came into contact with it after I went to the Normal School."
Qianmai took the stubborn words: "I heard others say that if you learn this well, you can paint whatever you want to paint in the future."
Tan Xiangyang nodded and agreed: "Although sketching is boring, it is the basis of all painting techniques. As long as you keep practicing, you should get results. From now on, I will give you a lesson every week and you will hand in one homework every day." Not much to say, leaned over and pulled out the drawing board from under the desk, prepared paper and pen in twos or twos, and explained the pen holding posture and line-surface structure to Qianmai...
Walking out of the teachers' dormitory, darkness has quietly enveloped the village, and only a little purple-red pink clouds remain in the western sky. From a distance, Qian Mai saw Qian Liqin leaning on the door and looking towards the school with her rice bowl. Before she came closer, she raised her voice and shouted, "Why are you coming back so late today? Where did you go to play? It's dark. I don’t even know if you came home for dinner? You just thought you were a bit more sensible, and you started to be wild..."
Qian Mai was in a good mood and ignored her. Qian Liqin felt her daughter's freak more and more: "Are you still happy and proud? I'm talking about you. It's glorious not to go home after school, and there is a cat with a fishy smile and a fishy face. It's like a child."
This time Qianmai turned his mouth back: "I am not a cat, I am a drunkard." The drunkard doesn't mean to drink, but cares about mountains and rivers.