Village beauty teacher

Sometimes when I can't sleep, I think of the beautiful woman I met when I was young, I went to school that day to teach, and saw a lot of busy people, children and teachers.

I saw her too.

Dignified, pretty, pure, she smiled sweetly at the students entering the school, patiently saying something, tall and slender, long hair blown by the breeze, as vibrant as a waterfall.

I remember the sun and breeze that day were good, and the mood was good. I thought, what kind of boy can such a girl have.

At least I won't have it, but it would be nice to be able to teach in the same school as her.

In fact, this is also the case, she has always been independent and conscientious in teaching her lessons, and I am also trying to teach.

She didn't understand me, and I didn't bother her. Many teachers also quipped to us, I often think that she who is so proud will not pay attention to me, and I also pretend to be high.

She also used to say that she was a material girl, and if I had an idea, give her a million, she would consider it.

This is an obvious refusal.

Pure friendship is really fragrant, no money is not bothered, and ordinary friendship is really good.

Her memories would be all beautiful and pure, just as I saw her that day.