Every time there was a parent-teacher meeting, no matter whether it was Sang Zhilan or Wei Tian, they always proudly accepted others' praises, but they seemed to forget that Tang Yuxin's parents never once came to a meeting.
Therefore, going to school was not a pleasant memory for Tang Yuxin.
But, she forgot about these unpleasant memories.
The school in the village wasn't far from their home. Someone her size could get there in only fifteen minutes. The village elementary school was quite dilapidated at the time. The legs of the desks were broken, and all that was left of the windows were mere frames. Gusts of wind would often pass through these frames and blow onto the delicate faces of the children.
And Tang Yuxin was one of those children.
Their teacher was a middle-aged man who spoke a common northwest dialect. His own Mandarin was not good, but to the children here, it was very endearing.