After class, everyone saw Qin Kaiwen leaving the classroom and immediately became excited.
Many boys began to surround Yang Zimei, introducing themselves in a flirtatious manner, and Yang Zimei smiled at them one by one, memorizing everyone's faces and names.
"Hello, classmate Yang Zimei, I am Xia Mo."
Monitor Xia Mo turned around and greeted Yang Zimei.
Yang Zimei saw Xia Mo's handsome appearance, dignified face, and sincere expression, which was different from the petty little girls around her, so she fell in love with her and said with a smile, "Hello, please take good care of her in the future."
"We are all classmates, so I will take care of you if you have any problems." Xia Mo said with a smile, "In the future, if there is anything you are not used to or don't understand in school, you can ask me."
"OK, thanks."
"You can also ask me. I will definitely be happy to solve problems for my classmates." Chen Xiaoqiang shouted loudly.
Yang Zimei glanced at him, and suddenly found that his hall was very dark, and his mountain roots were dark green. He couldn't help but stare at him for a while, and looked at him with his heavenly eyes. A scene appeared in his mind. At the intersection, he was suddenly hit by a car and flew away, bleeding.
One place.
She frowned slightly. As a classmate, she couldn't help but remind her: "Classmate Chen Xiaoqiang, it's best not to cross the intersection after school. Be careful of bloody disasters."
Chen Xiaoqiang looked at her doubtfully, wondering why she said this.
"Classmate Yang Zimei, why did you tell Chen Xiaoqiang like this? Do you know him? Do you know that he passes by that intersection without traffic lights every day?" Xia Mo asked curiously.
Yang Zimei smiled and did not answer. There was only so much she could remind her. She was not a universal Bodhisattva and had no obligation to help others solve their problems, even if they were classmates. As for whether he would follow her advice or not, it would depend on his own fate.
The school bell rang, and Xia Mo saw that she didn't answer, so she didn't ask too many questions. She just felt that Yang Zimei's black eyes seemed to be able to see through everything in the world.
Seeing that the boys surrounding his table had finally left, Huang Yifeng breathed a sigh of relief, but then became nervous about his body odor.
He was really afraid that his stink would spoil his seemingly spotless deskmate, so he wrote a line of words in a notebook and pushed it to Yang Zimei.
"I'm sorry, I have body odor. If you feel uncomfortable, just ask the teacher for a transfer. I won't mind." Yang Zimei saw what was written in the notebook and looked at Huang Yifeng, seeing him lowering his head in inferiority.
, even breathing seemed to be suppressed, probably because he was afraid of being disliked by himself, so he felt pity.
"I know acupuncture. If you believe me, after class, you can find a place where I can treat you and I will ensure a cure." She wrote in her notebook.
Huang Yifeng saw her reply and looked at her in surprise.
Today, with the decline of traditional Chinese medicine, acupuncture, for everyone, simply exists on TV. Not many people really understand it, except for some senior traditional Chinese medicine practitioners.
Now, his female classmate, who is only a teenager, actually said that she knows acupuncture. It would be strange for him not to be surprised.
He thought for a while and wrote in the notebook: OK, thank you, but did you bring the silver needle?
Yang Zimei nodded towards him.
Ever since her mother had a miscarriage in front of her eyes when she was five years old, she devoted herself to studying medical skills and never left her body.
Treating a disease and saving people is different from trying to change one's life against the will of God. It is something that accumulates blessings and can be done more often.