You’re A Liar

Chapter 5: memorandum

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Friday afternoon.

The monthly exam results came out one after another, and the test papers were sent back to the students one by one.

Ling Song glanced at those shocking test papers with only a few marks, turned them all over and covered them expressionlessly, pretending he didn't see them.

Zhang Yang turned his head and asked him, "Girl, what's your total score?"

Ling Song ignored him.

He was a little angry, it's fine for other scores to be low, why is he only in his early 80s in Chinese

If two multiple-choice questions are wrong, the modern essay will not get a few points.

Fortunately, the composition is full marks, and finally the level of the examiners is not too bad.

He turned his head and glanced at Wen Yuanchu's papers. Except for Chinese and English, some points were deducted, all other subjects were full marks.

Is it so powerful

By the way, Wang Zide seemed to mention it before, saying that this person is the first in every grade in every exam.

"Why are you doing so well?"

Wen Yuanchu raised his eyes.

Ling Song looked away.

Forget it, pretend he didn't ask.

The squad leader came back from outside and called Ling Song: "Ms. Ma is looking for you and asked you to go to his office."

Ling Song hurriedly got up and went out.

Ma Guosheng is reading the policy theory written by Ling Song for the third time.

The Chinese paper was corrected yesterday, Ling Song's composition was copied out by the marking teacher, and it has been circulated to the entire Chinese language group of the second year of high school.

Ma Guosheng still can't believe it, Ling Song wrote it.

And he still writes in traditional Chinese characters.

Ling Song knows a lot of simplified characters, but he is still accustomed to using traditional characters when writing.

When Ling Song entered, Ma Guosheng asked him with a complicated expression, "Did you write this composition yourself?"

"yes."

Ma Guosheng was at a loss for words for a while, why didn't he find out that Ling Song had this ancient proficiency before

Ling Song was uncommonly modest: "The writing is not good, please give me some pointers from the teacher."

Ma Guosheng: "...it's already pretty good."

Ma Taifu is not the same as before.

Ling Song thought to himself, in his previous life, Ma Taifu was born as the No. 1 scholar, and he was the most arrogant of his talents. How could he value such a theory that was not very brilliant.

Ma Guosheng reminded him again: "You did well in the Chinese test, but you have regressed too much in the other subjects. Basically, you hand in blank papers. If you continue to do this in the future, you may have to repeat the grade."

He really believed it now, Ling Song not only lost his memory, maybe because of his memory loss, he inspired other potentials, otherwise how did he write this theory

But the college entrance examination is not only about Chinese.

Ling Song opened his mouth, he is a majestic emperor, wouldn't it be embarrassing to repeat a grade.

But with that score, he was too embarrassed to defend himself.

Ma Guosheng comforted him: "I will discuss your situation with your parents. You should find a way to make up for the previous lessons. Of course it is the best not to repeat the grade. Don't think too much. I can't blame you for your health. "

Before school was over, Ling Jie received a call from Ma Guosheng and came to school.

Ling Song was waiting for his brother downstairs by the playground, kicking up the stones under his feet in boredom.

He heard the thud of the basketball and looked up.

Wen Yuanchu played alone in the sunset.

This person hasn't left yet

Ling Song looked at him for a while, Wen Yuanchu was tall and long-legged, his throwing posture was very beautiful, and his basketball skills were quite good, it was eye-catching to watch.

Ling Song was a little envious.

He also wanted to be as handsome as this man.

Half an hour later, Ling Jie came downstairs and patted Ling Song on the shoulder: "Let's go."

The two brothers walked away side by side.

Wen Yuanchu stopped, watched their backs go away, raised his hand for the last time, and threw the ball into the basket.

Sitting in the car, Ling Song took the initiative to ask Ling Jie: "Brother, did Teacher Ma tell you about my monthly exam results?"

Ling Jie nodded helplessly: "You really don't know anything about those topics? Why did you hand in blank papers?"

"can't read."

Ling Song said truthfully: "I don't understand at all."

Ling Jie didn't ask any more questions, and started the car.

"Let's talk about it when we go home."

At night in the Ling family, the whole family was worried about Ling Song's studies.

Little nephew Ling Chaochao took out a math book from his schoolbag and handed it to Ling Song: "Uncle, do you understand my book?"

Ling Song was sure, he saw the contempt in the kid's eyes.

Ah.

But he really couldn't read it.

Although those contents are mentioned in Chapter Nine Arithmetic, the Arabic numerals used by the people here, he still made up for it in the past two days, let alone those arithmetic symbols.

What a shame.

Ling's mother was very worried: "Should I start learning again from childhood?"

this…

They didn't ask Ling Song to have much promise in the future, but they couldn't. He couldn't even finish high school, right

But the problem of inexplicable amnesia, and I don't know when it will be cured.

When he was frowning, the doorbell rang.

Ling Chaochao ran to the porch to open the door, and shouted: "Brother Yuanchu!"

It was Wen Yuanchu who came.

Wen Yuanchu came in and greeted Ling's father, Ling's mother and Ling Jie politely.

The Ling family was very surprised.

This kid Wen Yuanchu has always been quiet. They have been neighbors for so many years, and this is the first time he has come to the door on his own initiative.

Wen Yuanchu explained to them: "I told Teacher Ma to help Ling Song with homework."

That would be great.

—Everyone in the Ling family

That's too bad.

— Ling Song

Ling's mother beamed with joy: "How dare you, will it trouble you too much?"

Wen Yuanchu looked at Ling Song who was looking up at the sky: "No, there is nothing to delay. I can help Ling Song make up the previous lessons, and I can relearn them myself."

Ling's father and Ling's mother no longer refused, and happily thanked Wen Yuanchu, regardless of Ling Song's willingness or not, they packed them into the room.

Mother Ling brought a plate of cut fruits, and before leaving, she told her son: "Be obedient, if you don't want to repeat a grade, follow Yuanchu and study hard."

Ling Song was powerless to resist, so he had to accept it.

Wen Yuanchu was sitting beside him, reading his theory.

His eyes were lowered, and he kept silent, not knowing what he was thinking.

Ling Song had a cantaloupe in his mouth, squinting at him several times.

Wen Yuanchu suddenly raised his eyes.

When their eyes met, Ling Song subconsciously swallowed and choked.

His face was flushed, and it took him a long time to swallow the melon in his mouth.

Wen Yuanchu frowned.

Ling Song raised his voice, bluffing: "What are you doing?"

"This composition, did you write it yourself?"

"if not?"

"It's nothing, it's well written."

Wen Yuanchu commented lightly.

That's certainly not bad, the Taifu who taught him these things back then were all very talented people.

An ordinary high school student like Wen Yuanchu probably couldn't understand what he wrote.

Before Ling Song could be satisfied, Wen Yuanchu said, "But writing this in the college entrance examination is risky. It may be a perfect score, or it may be a very low score."

Ling Song snorted: "The teacher who graded the papers couldn't understand it."

"That's the rule."

Wen Yuanchu put down his paper and picked up Ling Chaochao's small one-language document.

"Let's start with pinyin."

Ling Song immediately shut up.

Wen Yuanchu taught him pinyin, and also taught him how to read English letters.

Ling Song learned it reluctantly, if it wasn't for the exam, he would not want to learn a foreigner's language at all.

Fortunately, pinyin is not difficult to learn, and he memorized almost everything in just two hours.

Nine o'clock sharp.

Ling Song yawned and lay down on the desk, waving his hands: "I'm tired, I'll learn it another day."

Wen Yuanchu's expression moved slightly, without reminding him, he just said: "Take a break, and have another hour of math class."

Before Ling Song could refuse, Wen Yuanchu took a blank manuscript paper and wrote down the study plan for him on it.

"You have a good foundation in Chinese, and it is enough to learn pinyin. You can let it go for a while, and then you can listen carefully in class."

"Tomorrow, I will finish all elementary school mathematics in the next two days, and I will learn junior high school mathematics in the next month, with two hours of class every night."

"Learn English for an hour every day, memorize ten words, and have extra classes on Saturdays and Sundays."

"Do exercises during the day to consolidate. Except for Chinese, you don't need to listen to school classes, and you can't understand anyway."

"Strive for double digits in mathematics and English in the next monthly exam, and we will talk about other subjects later."

Ling Song turned pale with shock: "Chaochao is only in the fourth grade, you want me to finish all the things I need to learn in six years within two days?"

Wen Yuanchu: "You can try."

... Thank you for being so respectful of me.

Ling Song looked disheartened, Wen Yuanchu thought about it, and changed his words: "If you can't learn it in two days, you can do it in a week. Elementary school mathematics, especially in the lower grades, is very simple, and you don't need to spend too much effort."

"oh."

Ling Song felt sorry for him and didn't dare to haggle any more.

Although Wen Yuanchu was not Wen Che, his face, especially the way he frowned, was so much like that person that Ling Song instinctively dared not do anything wrong.

Wen Yuanchu paused his pen, hesitated for a while, and told him: "If you don't want to study physics and chemistry, you can transfer to study liberal arts. The liberal arts are history, politics, and geography. It may be easier for you. You are just a sophomore in high school. , you are in a special situation, tell the school, transfer should be easy."

Ling Song was stunned, do you want to study history

He did not want.

I don't want to recall the past life over and over again.

Even if he is an insignificant king of subjugation, he probably doesn't deserve to appear on the exam papers.

"I don't want it, I will study science."

Wen Yuanchu nodded and did not persuade him any more.

Let Ling Song rest for ten minutes, and Wen Yuanchu began to teach him mathematics in the first grade of elementary school.

Ling Song listened absently.

He peeked at Wen Yuanchu from time to time.

This person was very serious when he was giving lectures, his thick black eyelashes drooped slightly, and his eyes were peaceful.

Unlike the Prince Regent, there was always a gloomy and hostile look in his eyes that made him shudder.

But even so, he sometimes admits mistakes.

really weird.

At half past ten, Ling Song sent Wen Yuanchu downstairs.

On the stairs, he met his sister-in-law bringing Ling Chaochao up, Ling Chaochao waved to Wen Yuanchu: "Goodbye, brother Yuanchu."

Little brat, it's polite to outsiders.

Ling Song smiled: "I'm his uncle, and he calls you brother, so I won't be your elder?"

Wen Yuanchu glanced at him.

The smile at the corner of Ling Song's mouth froze, his eyes rolled, and he didn't look at Wen Yuanchu again.

He said, sometimes this person's eyes really look like the dead ghost regent, it's not his illusion at all!

If it weren't for the fact that this person was quite normal most of the time and had the patience to help him make up lessons, he really would have suspected that this person was the Regent, pretending to be on purpose.

Good luck, gods and ghosts retreat.

How about he go to the temple to worship someday...

Ling Song forcefully closed the door behind him.

Wen Yuanchu stood quietly outside the door for a moment, took out his mobile phone, and wrote down the memo.

On the fifth day of his return, happy.