"Pu..."

"What do you mean?"

"What does it mean to me? Who will support you if I don't go on a business trip?"

At one o'clock in the morning, the sudden rain in late spring in the capital was covered with thunder and lightning, but it could not conceal the sound of women quarrels with men.

The rain walked into the room along the unclosed window, with curtains dancing, and under the lights inside the house, it looked like a demon swaying his teeth and claws.

"My salary can support us mother and mother. Please don't give me any of them here!"

"What are some of them? Isn't the money for the high school registration class paid from me?"

"I've lost money on your child, right? Okay, divorce!" The woman threw a word and went back to the house, and ran into the door, "The child belongs to me, you... leave the house with nothing!"

A meaningless quarrel finally ended. The man did not take off his clothes and pants, and slept on the sofa with the rain water he brought back from outside.

The raindrops outside the window were dripping, intermittently. The couple who had been quarreling all night were sleeping heavily. No one knew that a child wearing a school uniform and carrying a schoolbag climbed down the second floor along the window and merged into the rainy night.

It rained all night, and the dawn of the next day could not dispel the thick cumulonimbus clouds. The sun continued to hide behind the layers of clouds and never showed up.

In the darkness, the capital city began a new day of chaoticness. Or this noise began when the stars and moon were still there, and everyone ran on a fixed track: there were long queues next to the breakfast stall, rolled pancakes and rushed to the place where they worked; the time-honored snack shops in Beijing were filled with middle-aged and elderly people buying breakfast; the fast food restaurants were in and out, and the crowd was rushing, either students carrying heavy schoolbags, or young people wearing work clothes and carrying briefcases.

There were slight quarrels not far away, a few sudden birds singing, and the sound of trumpets that resounded through the sky...

The morning in the capital seemed full of malice, but it seemed that it was not like this at all. He rushed to the green light and ran towards the students in the opposite school in front of the traffic; the owner who shouted "Be careful", but did not honk the horn, but slowed down; the traffic police who were directing traffic while saying "Children, go slowly"; and the staff of the fast food restaurant who handed the warm breakfast to remind him that "Coffee is hot, don't rush to drink."

In a blink of an eye, the noisiest time on the streets of Beijing passed, just like a market. As people returned to their own location in the capital, the surroundings quickly became clear.

The drowsy students were completely awakened by morning reading, starting a new day of study. The sound of reading echoed in the classroom, and the sound of the pen was like youth struggle and struggle.

The rain fell silently again.

The fragrance of the soil mixed with the tide of rain, penetrated into the window and poured into the classroom. The chilly spring cold, the breeze broke into the door, and the spiritual platform of the students in the classroom became clearer and clearer.

The Chinese teacher’s passion for speaking on the podium is like a passion for literature and teaching.

"Students, we just learned the text "Rain Alley" yesterday. The author Dai Wangshu was walking alone in the misty rain in the south of the Yangtze River."

On the podium, the Chinese teacher turned around and inserted the U disk, "So let's combine the author's life with the background of the author's life to further study the emotions that this modern poetry wants to express."

"Come on, who will read the article?" The teacher did not look back and searched for the documents to try to find the ppt they needed. "Ye Qinghuan, come and read this poem. The students listen carefully, draw out several identical sentences, and think about the purpose of the author writing this way."

Ye Qinghuan opened her mouth vaguely, "Rain...alley..."

"Wear……"

"Ye Qinghuan, what's going on?" The Chinese teacher realized that something was wrong and turned around.

"Teacher, Ye Qinghuan seems to be uncomfortable." The classmates around reminded.

The Chinese teacher walked down the podium quickly, looked at the chaotic Ye Qinghuan, and reached out to explore Ye Qinghuan's forehead... It was very hot.
Chapter completed!