Half a month later, in a small classroom at the Martial Arts Hall.
Yang Chunxi stood at the lectern, a book in one hand and a piece of chalk in the other, writing something on the blackboard.
Outside, the winter sun, veiled in a cold mist, shone through the window, casting beams of light that fell upon her beige trench coat and her long hair draped over her shoulders. The scene was simply beautiful.
Ever since returning and seeing this group of kids from the Soul Class, Yang Chunxi's mood had clearly improved a great deal.
As their head teacher, she sometimes had to put on a stern face, but even then, you could see the hint of a smile hiding in her eyes.
At that moment, Rong Taotao was resting his chin in one hand, unconsciously twirling a pen in the other, and staring at the formula Coach Yang was writing on the blackboard.
