Chapter 57

Very soon, with everyone's concerted efforts, the self-study room was set up, adorned with colorful balloons everywhere. All the props were prepared, and the personnel were in place. The host, Zheng Wen, the cultural and sports committee member, was ready to take charge.

"Classmates, let me say a few words, and the Mid-Autumn Festival party will officially begin." Guo Yu walked to the center, preparing to give a speech with a formal tone.

However, the top students, who had just completed their mid-term exams and gone through intense review sessions, were all very excited. Cheng Cheng led the way, shouting, "Class monitor, that's already the first sentence, only one more left."

Caught in a linguistic trap.

Immediately, the other top students responded, making Guo Yu very embarrassed. He had prepared several paragraphs, often going to his father's workplace to play and watching his father's meetings, where he always spoke this way.

Unfortunately, this time, the audience was a group of top students, not his subordinates.

Despite the embarrassment, he quickly regained his composure, "Alright, alright, alright, everyone, eat well, drink well, and have fun."

The atmosphere quickly became lively, and everyone played to their heart's content.

If you don't want to participate, don't join.

While the students were letting off steam, the teachers were still working overtime to grade the exams. The reason was simple: the mid-term exams could not affect regular classes. Deputy Dean Chen, in charge of education, had issued an order that the results must be out by next Monday.

If they didn't want to affect the weekend, they had to work overtime in the evenings. The teachers all chose to work overtime to grade the exams.

Grading the English exams was relatively easy, as most of the questions were multiple-choice, and the teachers only needed to focus on the essays. They could finish most of the grading in one night.

While grading, the English teachers chatted. One of the fast-track class teachers said, "This exam was quite difficult. How did everyone do on the machine-reading section?"

Another teacher from the advanced class said, "The average score for the machine-reading section was 78. I don't know how this batch of students did. I checked, and our advanced class's average score was over 90. Yang Yun, how did your regular class do?"

There was a hint of pride in his tone.

There was competition among the teachers, and they were all proud of the outstanding students in their classes.

Yang Yun knew that the teachers from the advanced and fast-track classes would feel superior, but this time was different. This time, there was Liu Meng in her class. She said modestly, "Our class's average score for the machine-reading section was only 75, but one student got a perfect score of 120."

"Really? A perfect score? The highest in our advanced class was Gu Pan, who only got 118."

"Right, in our fast-track class, a student named Ma got 119. It's a pity, just one question away."

"Why would I lie? The machine-reading scores can't be wrong." Yang Yun was very unhappy with their doubts.

"It's impossible. If he were at this level, he would have been in our advanced class. Why would he stay in a regular class?"

"Maybe he didn't perform well in the class placement exam."

"Or maybe he improved a lot after coming to our regular class. You're being biased." Yang Yun pouted, feeling a sense of pride for the first time in front of the teachers from the advanced and fast-track classes.

The two teachers were still unconvinced. They taught advanced and fast-track classes, so their levels were naturally high. They had all scored high on professional level eight, GRE, IELTS, and other exams, and their English was already very proficient.

"How could he improve so much in such a short time?" The advanced class teacher pouted, thinking, "Do you, Yang Yun, have such a high level? You've only been teaching a regular class for two years, and you're still quite inexperienced."

"Strange, I just graded an essay that was completely incomprehensible and filled the entire page. Such an essay, giving it a passing score of 18 would be generous. It seems to be copied, and it's not even on topic." The fast-track class teacher exclaimed.

Yang Yun was startled. She had seen Liu Meng's essay, which was beautifully written but seemed incomprehensible. She quickly jumped up and said, "Let me see. Don't judge a good essay as garbage."

"I have a high level of English. To be honest, I can write in English more fluently than in my native language." The fast-track class teacher was very unhappy, thinking that his grading level was being questioned.

Yang Yun immediately went over to look. It was indeed Liu Meng's essay.

The essays were graded crosswise, and the students' names were not visible. However, Liu Meng's essay was so unique that it left a deep impression on Yang Yun, giving it a classical English poetry feel.

If understood using the conventional grammar learned from textbooks, it was impossible to grasp the true meaning.

"Don't be so hasty. This student might have written it in the style of classical English poetry. This feeling is very familiar, as if I've seen it before." Yang Yun became anxious, patting her head. The other teachers grading the essays also came over and were stunned.

Suddenly, she glanced at a book on the desk, which was "The Book of Songs." She exclaimed, "I remember, I remember. This is the style of 'The Book of Songs.' This essay is indeed written in the style of classical English poetry."

The other teachers gathered around. They all had deep expertise, and upon hearing this, they agreed.

"Too outrageous. I said this student was copying, trying to take shortcuts. I was going to give it a 18, but now I'll give it a 12."

"How do you know it's copied? What if it's original? That would be suppressing the student's enthusiasm and burying talent. How can you be a teacher?" Yang Yun was indignant, truly angry. Her first instinct was to believe that Liu Meng had written it himself, never thinking it was copied.

"If a student isn't copying, how could they write at this level? Even we can't write such classical English poetry. Only Professor Nan in the foreign language department has such expertise." The fast-track class teacher was also angry after hearing Yang Yun.

"I think so too."

"How could a student do that?"

The teachers argued, with most still skeptical.

In fact, the only one who believed it was original was Yang Yun. It was a woman's intuition. If she didn't know Liu Meng, she would have thought it was copied based on her professional knowledge.

Yang Yun, standing alone, said firmly, "No matter what, I oppose your hasty judgment. This could stifle a talented student. Give me a copy, and I'll consult Professor Nan tomorrow. I've never seen this essay before."

"There are so many English poems; who can claim to know them all? No one can claim to know all of China's ancient poetry either."

The debate continued intensely.

In the end, Yang Yun insisted, and the fast-track class teacher had to mark it as "doubtful."

The teachers argued fiercely over Liu Meng's impromptu essay, while Liu Meng, unaware of the controversy, faced a difficult decision.

In the balloon-stomping game, he and Dong Dong lost. They had two options: the first was to kiss Dong Dong, and the second was to choose from three cups of black liquid, one of which was cola, and the other two were vinegar, placed two meters away, making it impossible to distinguish by smell.

"Kiss, kiss." Everyone cheered, with Jiang Weixin leading the way, Old Ma looking mischievous, and Cheng Cheng jumping up.

Liu Meng and Dong Dong were both very awkward.

Liu Meng glared at Zheng Wen, who seemed to be out to get him tonight. She had called him out several times to play games, and he had already been punished enough. Now, this.

"You don't have to choose from these. We have another option." Zheng Wen said with a smile.

"Quick, what is it?" Dong Dong asked urgently. He really didn't want to be passionate or drink vinegar. It was a large cup, and most importantly, it was his first kiss. The thought made him want to cry.

Liu Meng had a bad feeling but was also curious to see what Zheng Wen had in mind.

"Run naked around the main building and shout three times..." Zheng Wen laughed.

Everyone joined in the laughter, "What should he shout?"

"What do you think?" Zheng Wen was indeed good at creating an atmosphere, and the crowd went wild, suggesting all sorts of things.

"I'm not afraid of anyone!"

"What a big tree!"

"A man can bend and stretch!"

...

The suggestions were varied.

Dong Dong and Liu Meng's faces turned sour. This was a death sentence; they wouldn't be able to show their faces the next day.

"Let's go all the way with passion." Liu Meng decided to go all in. Since it was a party, and they were playing, they might as well play to the fullest. He opened his arms to welcome Dong Dong.

Their lips drew closer, and the atmosphere grew more intense.

Top students, do you have to be so wild!

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