Dressed as The School Grass’ Ex-boyfriend

Jing Ci didn't understand his overtones, and was repeatedly questioned. His temper also came up, and he didn't speak with a cold face.

Yingjiao nudged him with his knee and said lazily, "Ask you, talk."

Jing Ci thought to himself, saying that you don't believe it either.

Seeing that the time was running out, he didn't want to spend any more time with Yingjiao, and said irritably, "Then what do you say, how can you believe it?"

Ying Jiao looked at his impatient appearance, and felt quite novel in his heart.

Yingjiao asked the school doctor for a stack of letter paper and a pen, and threw it to Jing Ji: "Write me a letter of guarantee."

Jing Ji: "...There's no need for this."

Yingjiao smiled: "It's okay not to write..."

Jing Ji raised his eyes and waited for his next words.

Ying Jiao looked at him with a smile: "From now on, you have to report to me where you go, who you talk to, and what you say. For example, before going to the toilet, you have to tell me whether to go to a big or a small, and how long it will take. Once the timeout is exceeded, the reason must be explained clearly so that I can analyze whether you took the opportunity to reveal the matter."

After a pause, he continued: "When necessary... I will personally check whether your reasons are reasonable."

Jing Ji looked at him in disbelief.

"What's the matter, little brother." Yingjiao smiled with a corner of his mouth: "When I wrote love letters to me before, one letter after another, it's just a letter of guarantee, but you're still reserved?"

He turned his eyes: "Want me to hold your handwriting?"

Jing Ji had a wooden face: "...Okay, I'll write."

He unscrewed the cap of the pen and began to write stroke by stroke as Ying Jiao wanted.

Ying Jiao glanced at it, and on the school's self-printed stationery with light red stripes, the young man's handwriting was exquisite and free, and it was extremely beautiful.

Yingjiao's eyes gradually deepened.

"It's written." Jing Ji put down his pen and handed the guarantee to Ying Jiao, "I'm leaving with nothing else."

Ying Jiao noticed that Jing Ji placed the pen at a right angle to the table.

He gave Jing Ji a thoughtful look and waved at him, indicating that he could leave.

Jing Ji breathed a sigh of relief, without the slightest nostalgia, and quickly walked out of the school doctor's office.

Ying Jiao withdrew his gaze from his back, and glanced down at the guarantee in his hand.

For a long time, suddenly, Jing Ji had never written a love letter to him before.

The provincial experimental campus is very large and is generally divided into two parts.

Part of it is a newly built teaching building for the first and second year of senior high school and other schools, and the other part is a courtyard house where the third year of high school stays and the conditions are relatively difficult.

Jing Ji circled around in the two parts before he found the school gate.

There are many small shops outside the school, and they are densely packed together. Jing Ji only glanced at it and found two or three barber shops. He picked a sign and walked in pleasingly.

It was class time, and there was no business in the shop. When he saw him, a young barber immediately greeted him and asked him whether he wanted a haircut or a perm.

Jing Ji stretched out his hand and gestured on his head: "Cut it short, then dye it black, how much does it cost?"

As soon as he heard Jing Ci's request, he knew that he was kicked out by the teacher who was doing business around the school. The barber brother is not surprised, he smiled and said: "One-stop package for dyeing and cutting hair, there are 98, 198, and 298."

Jing Ji said without thinking about it: "I want 98."

The barber brother tried to persuade him: "You don't need 298, let's get a 198. The 98 potion is not good for your hair. Your hair looks very smooth. It's a pity that it was hurt by the potion."

Jing Ji was unmoved, and said firmly: "I want 98."

Anyway, it's only a few centimeters short. If you really hurt your hair, you can grow it and lose it.

"Okay." The barber tied a bib for him and said to the mirror, "What kind of hairstyle does the handsome guy want to cut?"

Jing Ji didn't know much about these things, and he didn't care, and said casually: "You can do it, cut something similar, and let the teacher think it's not out of line."

The barber brother laughed: "Okay, then I'll watch the cut."

Generally speaking, students who have dyed their hair in high school like this are all thorns, and their hair is more important than life. This is the first time he has seen such a Buddhist thorn.

but-

The barber looked at the mirror and sighed inwardly.

People have such a face, no wonder they have to care about hairstyles. As far as these facial features and face shape are concerned, even a shaved head can lead to the coquettish coquettishness of the bald class.

The barber was very considerate. Considering the teacher's preference, he cut off most of Jing Ji's yellow hair, exposing his ears, with a little bangs on it, which is a very neat hairstyle.

After finishing dyeing and blowing Jing Ji's hair, the barber brother looked at the effect in the mirror and became jealous.

The black hair color is very thick, like ink, it will look a little awkward on ordinary people, but on Jing Ji, there is no sense of disobedience.

With a good face, any color can hold up.

Jing Ji didn't look at his new look very carefully, glanced at the mirror, saw that his hair was black and short, and he looked like a normal person, so he happily paid the money and walked out of the barber shop.

It was almost seven o'clock in the evening. Jing Ji spent eight yuan to buy a bowl of shredded pork with fish flavor. After eating in a hurry, he went back to school, just in time for the first evening self-study.

Provincial experiments focus on science and light on literature, and there are 12 science classes in total. Among them, the first class and the second class are the extraordinary classes, the third to sixth classes are the key classes, and the remaining six classes are parallel classes.

The liberal arts class is one less normal class and two key classes than the science class, and the whole grade is added together, making a total of 21 classes.

There are so many classes and so many teachers that one office can't fit at all. It happened that the school had just built a new teaching building, and there was enough space, so the offices of the teachers of arts and sciences were separated.

Jing Ji came out of the science office on the third floor before. When he stood in the corridor, he noticed that the closest to the office was the science super class: the second grade (1) class.

In order to sort by class, the second and seventh classes of high school should be on the same floor.

As he thought, the seventh class was in the middle of the third floor.

All the way from the first class, it was quiet, including the parallel class eight next to the seventh class.

After all, with the quality of teaching in the provincial experiment, just picking out a person from a parallel class may be the seedling of a key university.

But when we got to Class Seven, the style of painting changed suddenly.

Unlike other classes, most of the students in Class 7 came in through relationships, and their family background is basically good, and their minds are not on learning at all.

So when the other classes were doing their own self-study seriously, Class 7 was like a wild horse that ran away from the rein, and the movement in the house could not be concealed through the door, and it was as lively as a temple fair.

In the classroom, He Conge stood up to cover his face with a copy of "Five-year College Entrance Examination and Three-Year Simulation", then turned his head and scolded: "Damn, Li Shi is so insidious. Start."

Zheng Que was playing games while holding his mobile phone, and said disdainfully, "So what? It's not because Brother Jiao did it."

He Congee: "Is it the result that I care about? It's the process! This process is very annoying, do you understand?" He said, pulling Peng Chengcheng next to him, "You say yes, Cheng Cheng?"

Peng Chengcheng said with a sullen face: "Do you try to call Cheng Cheng again?"

He Cong raised his hand and surrendered: "Slip of the tongue! Slip of the tongue! We are fighting Li Shi for Brother Jiao, Lao Peng, where is your focus? Your ideological awareness is not high enough."

Peng Chengcheng glanced at him: "higher than you."

He Porridge is a short and fat man, and Peng Chengcheng's pain point is accurate.

He Conge was furious, and he jumped up to hit Peng Chengcheng. Zheng Que just put down his phone and stopped him: "What are you doing, what are you doing?! Are you talking about Brother Jiao doing Li Shi?"

Ying Jiao was playing with the square letter paper folded in his hand, and when he heard the words, he opened the letter paper and said, "Don't use this word, thank you."

He Conge covered his mouth and laughed slyly: "What's the matter, my arrogant brother, where are you thinking?"

Ying Jiao gave him a thoughtful look, "I was thinking, the game console you confiscated by Lao Liu this morning..."

He Conge's smile gradually disappeared, and he pointed at Yingjiao angrily: "Are you still a person? Brother, this is complaining for you!"

Yingjiao leaned back, leaned against the wall, and smiled with his lips hooked: "What's the matter, let me hear it again."

He porridge was completely fried, and when he stood up, he was going to pull off the arrogance.

At this moment, the classroom door was suddenly pushed open, and He Conge was so frightened that the fat all over his body shook, and it was too late to turn around. He was anxious and wise, and said to Zheng Que with a serious face: "Old Zheng, I lost my pen, help me pick it up. one time."

After waiting for a long time, there was no response, and He Conge was so angry that he scolded a dull sentence, and his tone became a little more serious: "Old Zheng?!"

Zheng Que ignored him, stared blankly in front of him, and muttered, "You said, I'm going to cut this hairstyle too, can I have the same effect?"

The person who came was not Teacher Liu, but Jing Ci.

He cut a neat short black hair, completely revealing his beautiful face. His waist is no longer arched, his back is no longer hunched, he is as tall and straight as a small poplar, standing straight on the podium.

He Conge turned around and was shocked. He told the truth: "You can't do it, Lao Zheng. Be clear about your self-awareness. To achieve this effect, you have to change your head."

The other students in Class 7 were also shocked. After a moment of silence, Class 7 exploded like water was dripping from a frying pan.

"Fuck, is that Jing Ji? Why did he suddenly become so energetic and temperamental?"

"Is Jing Ji so handsome?"

Who in Class 7 doesn't understand Jing Ci? It's like 502 has become an elite all day long, sticking to Yingjiao when he sees the opportunity. To Yingjiao's friend, he nodded and bowed his head in a low voice, and to other people, he had a sullen face all day long. If he accidentally touched him, he could scold him for a long time.

However, now, the wretched energy and the heavy yin energy in him have all disappeared, and he looks refreshing and cold, so handsome that people can't close their legs.

"Fuck, I checked the eyes, this is the hairstyle, I'll cut it tomorrow too."

"Ri, I thought I was dazzled."

 …

Jing Ji didn't pay attention to the comments of the classmates below, he was worrying about how to find the original seat.

He thought that if there was an empty seat in the class, it must be his own, but he thought it was too simple, the evening self-study in class 7... a large row of seats was vacated.

Jing Ji had to stand still with a blank face, trying to get a hint from below.

"No," He Cong wondered, "what is he doing standing on it? Showing off his new hairstyle?"

Zheng Que tutted: "Maybe, it was deliberately shown to Brother Jiao."

The less talkative Peng Chengcheng also nodded in agreement.

Only Ying Jiao smiled and admired the embarrassment under that cold face for a while. When Jing Ji's eyes swept over, he quietly pointed to an empty seat diagonally in front of him, seemingly unintentionally.

Jing Ji breathed a sigh of relief and was grateful. After getting off the podium, he walked straight over and sat down.

He Conge opened his mouth wide and shouted with a weird face: "Jing Ji, why don't you go back to your seat, why are you going to someone else's seat?"

Jing Ji's body froze, and he turned to look at Ying Jiao in disbelief.

The corners of Yingjiao's lips curved, buried his head in his arms, and laughed wildly.

This little pervert is so interesting and fun.

The author has something to say: small theater, Jiaojiao: I found a fun thing...