“…the explanation of the term ‘market research’, hook it up, ‘what is a consumer’, hook it up, ‘how to affect sampling error’, hook it up…”
The teacher was comparing the textbook to the students and highlighting the key points. In the classroom, the sound of turning over the book and the sound of gel pen touching the surface of the paper were constantly being heard.
“Swipe!” one tick, “Swipe!” another tick.
Yang Dong continued to follow the teacher’s rhythm, and then marked one hook after another in the brand new textbook, and then turned the page, one after another, but suddenly, he felt severe pain in his brain. At once, the feeling was like being bitten by some kind of sharp-toothed animal.
But it feels like it’s coming fast, and it’s going fast too. His interruption seemed like he couldn’t keep up with the teacher’s rhythm. He missed several hooks in a row. When he regained the rhythm, the teacher had closed the textbook. And said: “Okay, this is the focus of this final exam, review it carefully.”
The whole class looked silently at the textbook in their hands. Twenty minutes ago, they opened the first page of the textbook. Twenty minutes later, they closed the last page of the textbook.
This…Is this the whole book the main point?
Headache!
Everyone is rubbing their temples, even the teacher is rubbing, he is wondering whether he has given them all, or whether to leave two for them to make up the exam.
This semester students didn’t pay attention to class, and some people skipped class. If all of them were given, wouldn’t it make this group of students worse?
But this semester I am also a mess, if I leave a few to let them make up the exam, I am always grateful and a little embarrassed.
So the teacher also had a headache, but they didn’t notice how unusual it was that the whole class felt a headache. It was as if someone’s mental wave suddenly emanated and affected everyone.
“Review!”
The teacher gave an order, and the classroom suddenly became messy. Some were reading, some were playing with mobile phones, some were sleeping, and some were talking.
The teacher looked at these students, and planned to find a few people with the least serious attitude to drop them off, but after watching for a long time, the teacher found out that I don’t know these students!
Although I took a class for one semester, there was only one class per semester. He couldn’t remember who was called.
No, I can still remember a few of them. The ones sitting at the front, some who have answered the questions, and those who look more prominent, still barely remember them.
“Ding!”
A low, harsh sound came out, and the whole class covered their ears in unison, and some shook their heads.
At this moment, even the dullest person in the class found that something was wrong. Everyone looked around curiously. The classmates by the window began to look for suspicious things outside the window, but it was a pity that they couldn’t find anything.
Yang Dong shook his head. He didn’t review any more, he never finished his cell phone, and he didn’t chat with his classmates. He was painting.
It was a notebook, and Yang Dong was holding a 2B pencil in his hand. He just drew a few strokes casually, and then the prototype of a character appeared.
This is a character wearing a hat with a black eagle standing on his right shoulder. He and this black eagle have their backs to Yang Dong who is holding the pen, and there is an endless road ahead.
A classmate next to Yang Dong approached him. He glanced at Yang Dong’s painting and said admiringly: “Awesome, are you planning to draw comics?”
Yang Dong said: “I’m working hard. I have recently signed a contract with Penguin Comics, but unfortunately the money is very small. A few dollars this month.”
The classmate suddenly showed admiring eyes: “It’s awesome, it’s a contract artist.”
Yang Dong smiled bitterly, perhaps in the eyes of ordinary people this is very powerful, but in the circle this is really not a commendable achievement, many people younger than him have left him far behind, and he No matter how hard he can catch up, he cannot catch up.
More importantly, he doesn’t have what is called “spirituality”.
I’m so helpless…
Yang Dong continued to paint, his heart full of bitterness.
“Want to change?”
At this moment, a voice suddenly appeared in his mind, and Yang Dong was startled by the sudden voice: “Who is it?”
Yang Dong could hardly help shouting out, but he suddenly realized that this was a classroom. If he shouted out this way, others would be regarded as neurotic. His restraint power was not so weak.
“Yang Dong, you should be very familiar with me. After all, I am your character!”
A voice appeared in Yang Dong’s mind again. He wanted to speak, but the voice continued: “You don’t need to shout, I know all your thoughts. I know very well, Yang Dong, you are actually painting for It’s just to vent your dissatisfaction with the real world, you are not reconciled that this is just an ordinary world, you are not reconciled to spend your life in such a mediocre life, but you can’t help it, so you can imagine the world in the painting, I’m right. ?”
Yang Dong was completely stunned. His expression was very exaggerated, but because everyone in this classroom was doing whatever they wanted to do, no one noticed his abnormality.
“You…who are you?” Yang Dong muttered in his heart.
“Yang Dong, you should be familiar with me, after all, I am…”
···
The passage that Wei Huo passed through became more and more red. It was so red that it was dripping blood. No, this passage is really dripping blood. The blood has even submerged half of Wei Huo’s body, the sticky blood, the thorn The **** smell of the nose, if it were an ordinary person, might have fainted because of this scene.
But Wei Huo is still moving forward. He is walking in this **** channel. The surrounding channels become more and more real. You can feel the touch when you touch with your hand, and the blood keeps flowing from Wei Huo. But, unlike water flow, the way the blood flows is bursts of bursts.
The blood is suddenly rushing~IndoMTL.com~ and then suddenly slowing down. This cycle repeats, which makes Wei Huo feel that he feels like he is moving forward in a blood vessel.
But suddenly from the sea of memory into the blood vessels, there is always an unreal feeling, because the switching between virtual and real is so fast that Wei Huo didn’t even react.
The sea of memory is virtual, and the blood vessels and blood are real. Where is the boundary between virtual and real?
Wei Huo was so puzzled that he thought of turning back and researching what is the boundary between the virtual and the real.
But Wei Huo had to move forward, because he found that the owner of this body was not doing very well. The reason was that the blood flow rate was slowing down. Although the blood flow was in bursts, it was a rush. Slow, but the overall flow rate is slowing down, and the depth of blood is also decreasing.
It’s like… as if the whole person is bleeding heavily.
Wei Huo had to guess like this. The time in the imaginary space stopped. It was not because the story had ended, but the owner who created this story was about to die, and his consciousness might have ceased!