The cool breeze is cold and the atmosphere is chilly.
In the classical and solemn Fang Family Martial Arts Hall, two groups of people stood side by side.
A young girl wearing black clothes stood in the middle of the hall, with her proud head held high, coldly glanced at the group of men, women and children in front of her, and said arrogantly: "Where is Fang Yan? Let Fang Yan come out to challenge."
"The kid is getting dressed and will be out soon." A middle-aged man with an elegant face answered loudly. He frowned slightly, displeased by the imposing attitude of the girl in front of him.
He is Fang Yixing, the successor of Fang Style Tai Chi. Because he likes poetry and painting, he does not look like a martial arts practitioner, but rather has the air of a gentle and elegant master of Chinese studies.
Ye Wenwen sneered and said, "Get dressed? Are you too scared to come out?"
"It's too much to bully someone." Fang Yixing looked embarrassed, but he could not inherit the martial nature of his ancestors in the Fang family, and the pedantic gods could not scold the girl to death. A suffocation stuck in his chest made him extremely uncomfortable.
"Brother Fang Yan will come out soon. He will definitely give me a good look." A little boy with a tough head and a tough head said in an evil voice, waving his fist vigorously.
As soon as the little guy finished speaking, a group of people burst into laughter.
"When did Fang Yan beat Ye Wenrou? Ye Fang's family competes every year. Since the first competition ten years ago, when did Fang Yan beat their family Wenrou?"
"No, you were beaten to a bloody head the first time, and you can't sleep in bed for more than ten days, right? Is Gentle the martial arts genius that the Ye family has only seen in a century?"
"My left leg was broken for the second time, and two front teeth were knocked out for the third time - let's just talk about the most recent time. I was beaten so gently by their family that I was lying on the ground pretending to be dead. Oh, that's ridiculous. It looks like------"
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"Young tongue boy." Fang Yixing looked embarrassed. He pointed at the group of men from the Ye family who were mocking his son and cursed: "Long tongue boy."
This time, he wanted to argue for his son, could he-----no matter what they said, were they all the truth
Ye Wenwen swung his legs very simply and said, "It's useless to talk more. Let Fang Yan come out and compete. If he doesn't have a long tongue, then see the real chapter under his legs."
Fang Yixing turned to look at his wife and said, "Go and call Fang Yan out. The men of the Fang family would rather die in battle than suffer such humiliation."
"Master, it's not good, it's not good -------" A young disciple ran over with an anxious look on his face.
"What's wrong? Let's talk if you have anything to say." Fang Yixing disliked his family and friends the most when they were in a hurry and didn't have a calm demeanor.
"The young master has run away. The young master has run away." The young disciple said with a mournful face.
"Run away?" Fang Yixing's face suddenly twitched. "Why did you run away? Where did you go?"
"I don't know." The young disciple said. "The young master left a letter."
"Open it quickly."
"It's not for the master, it's for Miss Ye."
"---------" Fang Yixing felt that something was wrong with him. Is the son biological
"Cowardly little boy." Ye Wenrou sneered after being stunned for a while. "Give him the letter."
The young disciple did not dare to disobey the violent woman and quickly handed over the letter in his lap.
Ye Wenrou opened the letter and found a message like a doggerel inside: Bad bitch, a good man doesn't fight with a woman, and a good dog doesn't ask to stand in the way. He's gone, never seen again! ! !
"Fang Yan."
Ye Wenwen's eyes were full of murderous intent. He put his palms together and rubbed them hard, and the elegant letter turned into liquid smoke.
"Let me escape to the ends of the world, and he will beg to crush me to ashes."
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Suzaku Middle School. The best private senior high school in Huacheng.
Fang Yan stood at the gate of the school, watching the young girls in red shirts and plaid skirts walking past him, full of youthful atmosphere. He took a deep breath of the fragrant air, and his face was full of intoxication. He said: "He firmly believes that a student girl wearing a red translucent shirt with a looming black bra underneath is the sexiest goddess."
"It's better to run away secretly than to be beaten every year." Fang Yan's handsome face showed a hint of ferocity: "Ye Wenrou, my damn dominatrix, I'm afraid I will never think that he will come to school to be a teacher, right? You want to beat him? No way. Isn't he that pitiful, cowardly, undignified man who just beats up casually?"
Fang Yan felt inexplicably sad after asking the question that didn't require anyone to answer.
At least------I beg to give that savage woman Ye Wenwen a beating once a year. It's like a cat eating a fish, a dog eating meat, and Ultraman begging to fight a little monster. That's not the rule.
He straightened the collar of his red shirt, took out a pair of black-rimmed glasses from the left pocket and put them on. He took out a small mirror from the right pocket and took a look at his facial features and hairstyle, making sure there were no unknown objects in the corners of his eyes. I couldn't help but praise: "Excellent talent."
A fat middle-aged man trotted over, passed by Fang Yan, and then returned as fast as a ball. He looked at Fang Yan doubtfully and asked, "Am I Teacher Fang Yan?"
"No." Fang Yan nodded.
"Am I really Fang Yan?" Zheng Jing's face was full of disbelief. Why don't you ask him to pick up a new teacher? Why is there such a young guy who is a little too young
Could he please stand on the podium and give lectures, embarrassing the older-looking students walking in Taitung
"I am older than the teacher." Will that sentence become the most vicious verbal attack at Suzaku Middle School
"It's guaranteed to be replaced if it's fake." Fang Yan said with a smile.
"He is the director of the principal's office, Zheng Jing." Zheng Jing looked at Fang Yan carefully in Dongdong again, and after ruling out whether it was a prank, he raised his heavy head and said, "Principal welcome."
Office of the Vice President.
Fang Yan looked at the bright, spacious but elegantly decorated office, and determined two things in his mind: First, Zhuque Middle School was very wealthy, and the teachers' benefits were very good. Second, the vice president in charge of personnel establishment is a woman.
The vice-principal was not here, so the fat man who brought him in poured him a cup of tea and left in a hurry, leaving him alone in the empty room.
Fang Yan waited for a long time. The hot water cooled down and the fragrance of tea dissipated. The vice principal who asked to see him was nowhere to be seen.
He stood up and stretched, then walked around the office and looked around.
Soon, his eyes were attracted by a tall vase in the corner.
The streamlined Eucalyptus echoes into the night sky from beginning to end, and the colorful yellow furrows are lazily embellished in a stepped state, which looks very beautiful.
"Climb the ladder to heaven?" Fang Yan felt instantly amazed. Unexpectedly, I saw the difficult flower-arranging leg technique of 'ladder to heaven' there.
He crouched down to admire it carefully, then shook his head slightly: "Huo Hou Bu Qi."
He wanted to turn around and leave, but stopped again.
After hesitating again and again, I finally couldn't help but pick up the scissors on the window sill and start trimming them with a click.
The legs are wide open and closed, and the legs are fierce, as if they have a grudge against the flower arrangement.
Bang!
Lu Chaoge pushed open the office door and saw a strange man squatting in the corner, wielding scissors and destroying his most cruel flower arrangement. The ground was left in a mess with broken branches and leaves.
She felt like her blood was surging and she was fainting. Her face turned red, her eyes widened, and she shouted urgently: "What am I doing?"
Fang Yan was engrossed in his work, putting all his heart and soul into the work on his legs. When he heard the loud shout, he responded: "No."
(ps: What do we think about Bu Chong? Does he want us to die anyway!!!)