What's wrong with me, a school principal, listening to students' suggestions?

Let's go!

Su Qingyan tried her best to speak calmly, as if nothing had happened, but the tips of her ears were still red.

Lin Yucai took the keys, got up and walked towards the door.

The two of them left the house in silence, went upstairs in silence, and walked silently to the door on the fourth floor.

The corridor was so quiet that only the sound of footsteps could be heard.

Lin Yucai inserted the key into the lock and turned the key to open the door.

The apartment on the fourth floor is a bit bigger than Su Qingyan's, with one bedroom, one living room, and one bathroom. It faces south and has excellent natural light.

The room is fully furnished, the walls are painted a warm white, and the curtains are light gray cotton and linen.

The overall feeling is clean and comfortable, much better than his ten-square-meter partitioned room.

"How much is the monthly rent?"

"1500, utilities not included."

Su Qingyan finally regained her normal tone.

"My friend said that if it were my colleague, I could get an extra 200 yuan off."

"One thousand and three?"

"Um."

Lin Yucai walked around the room and pulled back the curtains to take a look.

From the window, you can see the roof of the No. 13 Middle School's teaching building, where air conditioner units are lined up in a row, reflecting the sunlight.

"That's fine." He turned around. "When are we signing the contract?"

"I'm going to make a phone call to my friend."

Su Qingyan took out her phone and made a call.

"Yan Yan! Have you found a tenant?"

The phone rang twice before being answered, and a cheerful young woman's voice came from the other end.

"Yes, a colleague from our school."

"Male or female?"

"A man." Su Qingyan glanced at Lin Yucai.

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone, followed by a meaningful "Oh~".

"My male colleague, is he handsome?"

"What does it have to do with looks? Are you going to rent it or not?"

Su Qingyan moved the phone away from her ear a little, but the voice on the other end was too loud, and Lin Yucai could hear it clearly.

"Rent it! But Yan Yan, shouldn't you ask that male colleague to treat you to a meal?"

"Why should he pay?"

"You helped him find the apartment! Shouldn't he treat you to a meal? Don't be shy, he absolutely has to!"

As he spoke, his voice grew louder and louder, as if he was afraid Lin Yucai wouldn't hear him.

"I'm hanging up."

Su Qingyan's temples throbbed twice.

"Wait, Yan Yan, is he your boyfriend?"

"Hang up."

Su Qingyan decisively ended the call and stuffed her phone into her pocket.

She turned to look at Lin Yucai, her face expressionless.

"My friend said that we can sign the contract anytime."

"Um... about treating someone to dinner." Lin Yucai rubbed his hands together.

"Need not."

"Well, what they said makes sense."

"You help me find a place to live, so it's only fair that I treat you to a meal."

Su Qingyan stared at him for half a minute.

"We'll talk about it after the midterm exam results come out. By then, you'll owe me two meals."

Lin Yucai smiled.

"Okay, we'll combine the two meals into one. I'll treat you to the most expensive hot pot in the entire Tomato City."

"Who said I shared a meal with you?"

Su Qingyan rolled her eyes at him and turned to walk downstairs.

I paused again when I reached the top of the stairs.

"Is that black G-Wagon parked outside yours?"

"What's wrong?"

"Driving such a nice car to see a rental apartment that costs 1300, don't you think that's a bit odd?"

"Keep a low profile, keep a low profile."

Su Qingyan shook her head, and the sound of her footsteps gradually faded away in the corridor.

Lin Yucai stood at the window on the fourth floor, watching Su Qingyan's figure walk out of the building below.

Her high ponytail swayed in the sunlight.

He drew the curtains and walked around the room.

Great, I'll stay here from now on.

The fourth floor, Su Qingyan's third floor.

Upstairs and downstairs.

He suddenly thought of the messy state of Su Qingyan's room and almost burst out laughing.

"Alright, alright, what are you thinking about?"

He patted his face, clearing the jumbled images from his mind.

The important matter is the priority.

He locked the door, went downstairs, got in the car, and started the G-Wagon.

This afternoon I have to go to school to supervise the first class of the extracurricular activity.

This is what he should be most worried about right now.

It takes three minutes to drive from Jinxiu Residential Area to No. 13 Middle School.

Lin Yucai parked his G-Wagon in a small alley outside the back gate of the school.

It wasn't that I was afraid of being seen by the students; it was mainly because the gate of No. 13 Middle School was too narrow, and the width of this G-Class was a bit of a stretch to get in.

The first class of the extracurricular activity started at 2:30 p.m.

The six classrooms were assigned to the six directions.

The music class is held in the large classroom on the first floor because it has the most applicants.

The room was packed with forty-seven students, and the table was set with the school's newly purchased practice guitar.

Twenty units were delivered; the rest are still on their way and haven't arrived yet.

The guitar teacher is named Meng Xuan, a young lecturer at Tomato City Art School.

He was in his late twenties, with his hair tied in a small braid and wearing a denim jacket; he looked like an artist.

He sat on the podium with his guitar in his arms and glanced at the students below.

They were all wearing the same school uniform, their faces filled with curiosity and anticipation.

"Let me introduce myself. My name is Meng Xuan. I will be teaching you to play the guitar every Wednesday and Friday afternoon from now on."

"Let's get this straight: the most important thing in learning guitar is perseverance."

"Your fingertips will get blisters in the first two weeks, and it will hurt a lot."

"If you can persevere, you can play a complete song in three months."

"Those who can't stick with it..."

He smiled and plucked a chord.

"It's okay, at least I know I'm not suited for it."

The students laughed.

The art class is on the second floor, with thirty-nine students, and they have been provided with new easels and paint sets.

The sketching teacher was a middle-aged female painter who wore a beret and spoke slowly and deliberately. In the first lesson, she had the students draw an apple.

Most people draw apples that look like potatoes.

But the teacher didn't mind at all and went over to give each student pointers.

Everyone complimented him, saying things like, "You've got the hang of it, keep going."

The programming class is in the computer lab.

Zhao Siqi sat in the first row, with the Python development environment already open on the computer screen in front of her.

The graduate student who teaches programming is named Fang Hao. He wears glasses and is tall and thin.

"Hello students, today we'll start by writing a 'Hello World' program."

The writing class was held in a small classroom on the third floor.

Su Qingyan put on her glasses and stood in front of the podium.

She took the stylus and wrote four words on the screen.

Observe life.

"The first step in writing is not writing, but reading."

Her voice was calm and composed.

"Look at the people around you, look at what's happening, look at the details you usually overlook."

"Pre-class quiz: Try to write about someone you observed at school."

"500 words, any genre."

Fifteen students buried themselves in writing.

The chubby boy who usually wrote novels in the classroom also enrolled in the writing class. His name is Zhou Heng, and his pen name is "Soy Sauce Hero".

A martial arts novel was serialized on a niche website and had more than two hundred readers.

He wrote very quickly and handed in his assignment in ten minutes.

Su Qingyan glanced at it and raised an eyebrow.

"Who is it written about?"

"headmaster."

Su Qingyan looked down at the contents.

"The man in the gray jacket stood on the flagpole, like a tree stump struck by lightning..."

"It looks like it's about to die, but its roots are still in the soil."

"His pockets contained the world's most broken cell phone and the world's hardest bone."

Su Qingyan's lips curved slightly.

"Great, it evokes vivid imagery."

"But the metaphor of a tree stump struck by lightning is too simplistic; let's find another one."

"Okay."