The intern taught a top-performing class, and the parents wanted to change the homeroom teacher.

During break time, a group of students surrounded Lu Qian and walked towards the teaching building, attracting the attention of many other students.

"Teacher, is it too late to start learning now?"

"There's still time. You can practice to improve your health."

"Teacher, is there anything I can learn in a day?"

"Yes! Of the thirty-six stratagems, running away is the best!"

"..."

Back to class.

Lu Qian smiled and said, "If you want to learn, I'll teach you a couple of moves in PE class from now on, just to help you get some exercise."

"But practicing for a day or two won't work; you need to stick with it for a long time."

Amidst laughter and chatter, the students gradually dispersed.

……

Midterms are approaching.

The daytime teaching pace remains unchanged, and the amount of homework is not reduced.

Students in each class will find time to review the previous knowledge points.

Evening self-study.

Class seven.

Zhao Qihang leaned back in his chair, his math book propped up on the corner of the table, quickly skimming through the examples.

"I... I know how to do it."

"This...yes, I can do that too."

He mentally calculated the answer, recalled what the teacher had taught in class, and felt he understood it, so he quickly skipped to the next question.

"Thank goodness, thank goodness, I've got it all covered."

Zhao Qihang smiled with relief. If he knew everything in the book, then the exam wouldn't be a problem.

I'm definitely suited to learning math; it's not difficult at all.

He put the book back on his desk and yawned.

Zhao Qihang rubbed away the tears that had squeezed out of the corners of his eyes. He had been playing games too late yesterday, and the matchmaking system was terrible, so he kept losing. He was determined to win back his losses today.

Get your homework done quickly.

Thinking this, he buried his head on the table, nudged Chen Yu, the English class representative at the desk in front of him, and pointed to his English test paper after she turned around.

After receiving the test paper, I started copying it like crazy.

But while I was copying, I felt a bit uncomfortable in my stomach. What's wrong? I've been having diarrhea lately.

...

Front row, Zhang Sisi, first in Class 7.

At that moment, she was also frowning as she worked on math problems.

She hasn't been feeling well lately. Although she doesn't completely fail to understand math class, she just feels awkward.

The questions I wrote down on the blackboard were erased before I could even write them down, and the same went for the PowerPoint presentations, which were no different from those in the book.

The amount of homework in each subject has increased significantly, but she feels that some of the homework is not very useful and even affects her efficiency in doing practice problems.

By the time I got home and finished my homework, it was almost midnight, which affected my performance during the day.

It wasn't like this before.

Zhang Sisi shook her head, clearing her mind of distractions, and continued to concentrate on her work.

...

In the back row is Yu Yan, whose grades are below average in the class, and she is extremely poor in science subjects.

At this moment, she is opening her notebook of incorrect problems and working on each problem carefully.

The error notebook was neatly maintained, with the original questions written in black pen, corrections made in red pen, and the relevant knowledge points marked next to them, along with colorful markers.

The other books on the desk were also filled with various sticky notes.

After being scolded by Zhang Chao last time, she didn't dare to ask the teacher for help anymore and could only ask her classmates for answers.

Yu Yan is the kind of student who takes excellent notes; her handwriting is so neat that even the teacher can't find any fault with it.

But his performance in science subjects just wouldn't improve, though he fared a little better in subjects involving memorization.

She repeatedly looked at each wrong question, kept calculating, and compared it with the correct questions next to her.

Only move on to the next question if you get it right.

After finishing this page, she twisted her wrist and thought to herself: Now I should be fine with math, and I won't get a low score again.

……

Each class has different review methods.

Lu Qian remained seated at the podium, grading papers, while the students below quietly did their homework.

Each quiz paper is the result of continuous optimization.

If a student gets a question type wrong the most, after explaining it, he will change the question type and continue to give it in the next quiz, and then add other knowledge points to the variation.

They wouldn't say things like, "Why are you still getting it wrong even after I've explained it so many times?"

Because it's useless; students won't learn this kind of problem just because the teacher says it. It's better to explain it properly and solve it from the root.

However, they themselves would discover that they had made similar mistakes, and feel annoyed and regretful, which was something Lu Qian hadn't expected.

Furthermore, Lu Qian discovered that the students in Class 25 possessed a very good and rare quality.

No plagiarism!

I'm just too lazy to copy.

From the time I came to this class until now, I've been writing down what I know and leaving it blank if I don't.

Following Lu Qian's advice, he wrote a "solution" for the major question.

Is this one of the few good habits that students in bad classes have?

This saved Lu Qian a lot of trouble.

After grading, I curled my hair and started explaining the questions.

Soon, evening self-study ended.

After the students said goodbye to Lu Qian and left, the classroom quieted down.

Lu Qian also packed his things, turned off the lights, and left the classroom.

As I walked out of the school gate, just as I was about to choose a shop for a late-night snack, a familiar voice rang out beside me.

"Teacher Lu?"

Lu Qian looked over upon hearing the voice and stared at the speaker with some surprise.

The speaker was Zhang Li, who had come to pick up her son Zhao Qihang from school, but hadn't seen him come out yet, and instead encountered Lu Qian.

Zhang Li's initially displeased expression turned contemptuous. "Good evening, Teacher Lu."

Lu Qian nodded politely, "Hello."

Zhang Li wore a fake smile. "Teacher Lu, I heard you're teaching Class 25 now? That's good, having a class to teach is already nice."

"After all, you didn't lead the gold medal class. If you don't lead it well later, it will attract criticism."

Three question marks popped up above Lu Qian's head; he felt a little confused.

Are we that close?

However, the last sentence was quite right.

"You're right." Lu Qian had no intention of refuting it.

Just then, Zhao Qihang came running out in a flurry, carrying his schoolbag.

He had diarrhea so badly that he could barely hold it in when the bell rang. He rushed into the toilet the second it rang and is only now coming out.

"Mom, I just went to the bathroom," Zhao Qihang explained habitually, then noticed Lu Qian beside him and weakly called out, "Teacher Lu."

Zhang Li nodded, glanced at Lu Qian, and said sarcastically, "Pay attention in class. It's not easy to find a good teacher, so you won't be fooled by others again."

Zhao Qihang nodded somewhat guiltily and hummed in agreement, but said nothing more.

Lu Qian didn't even glance at the oddballs around him and ultimately chose a self-service mala tang restaurant.

Since things have come to this, let's eat first.

.

.