Some quick-handed students had already unfurled the banner, prominently displaying the words "Contemporary Master Teacher."
Silence fell over Cambridge tonight.
The previously noisy classroom suddenly went quiet.
When Dong Wenhao sensed something was wrong, he snatched the "love letter" and quickly began reading it.
However, due to his earlier setup, this farce had already drawn half the class around his desk.
The consequence of such a public display was that almost the entire class witnessed his embarrassing situation.
Only those who were unfortunate enough to be in the bathroom during the break missed this spectacle, though they were later informed by their classmates.
Later, Rongrong's former classmate accurately described this incident as "like a naked man grinding wheat — spinning around while losing face."
Rongrong had been somewhat of an invisible presence in her original class, neither particularly liked nor disliked.
Nevertheless, she received a text message from her former classmate vividly describing the whole incident.
Reading it made Rongrong's usually serious expression soften, as she could imagine the scene, finding it quite amusing.
Rongrong wasn't one to share gossip, but after expressing her gratitude to her former classmate, she unconsciously forwarded the combined messages to their group chat of four.
The other three weren't the type to be glued to their phones, so there was no response for quite a while.
Rongrong didn't mind and tossed her phone aside to focus on reading.
Before bed, Rongrong glanced at her chat windows. Various small group chats were bustling with activity, discussing different topics, though all equally trivial.
Rongrong never participated in such conversations and didn't care much about them. After briefly scanning through the meaningless chatter, she noticed a red dot on one specific chat window before closing her phone.
When she opened it, she saw that Shi Li had sent a schadenfreude-filled emoji thirty seconds ago.
She also commented on how Dong Wenhao deserved what he got.
Shortly after Shi Li's message, the other two members also responded.
Rongrong saw Fu Huixing praising the thank-you letter's composition, which made her curl her lip in disapproval at his apparent lack of sincerity.
After turning off her phone, Rongrong couldn't help but smile, realizing that sharing could indeed double one's joy.
After the competition ended, Shi Li and the other two returned to attending regular classes with their classmates, no longer having weekend classes.
While everything seemed the same, many things had changed.
The biggest change was the bonus points from the competition awards, which had Qiao Jingjia grinning from ear to ear.
Though he hadn't participated in the competition himself, the other three members of his group had competed and achieved good rankings. These competition bonus points were enough to grant them the freedom to take leaves of absence.
Qiao Jingjia privately told the three that he hoped they would perform well in the winter training session and aim for even better rankings.
The feeling of being carried to success while doing nothing was truly wonderful.
Qiao Jingjia's smug satisfaction made other classmates who were still struggling to maintain their basic grades both envious and resentful.
Some classmates were focused on earning extra points through the New Year's performance, causing many to neglect their studies while preparing for the show.
Shi Li noticed this and tactfully reported it to the Class Teacher.
Earning points was like earning money — one shouldn't become a slave to either money or scores.
The Class Teacher's fundamental purpose in implementing the point system was to motivate students to study diligently, not to be controlled by points.
After hearing Shi Li's report, the Class Teacher said he would carefully consider how to address this issue.
Of course, he ultimately couldn't figure out how to resolve it and called in the class monitor to think of a solution.
The class monitor had been busy dealing with personal issues lately, requesting leave to go home after each class, so he hadn't noticed the changes in the class.
He regretted using bonus points to encourage participation in the performance, never expecting the situation to develop as it had.
Although the Class Teacher was a full-time homeroom teacher, he had various other responsibilities to handle.
Both of them had failed to notice the changes in their classmates for different reasons, but fortunately, it wasn't too late.
The Class Teacher took advantage of a self-study period to address the class about the New Year's performance, stating that one class couldn't submit more than a dozen acts.
Other classes typically submitted three to five acts, with only about fifty percent making the final cut, leaving just two or so.
The Class Teacher had confidence in his students, believing that out of their dozen acts, at least ten would make it through.
Calculating five minutes per act, just their class's "little emperors" would perform for an hour, when the entire New Year's celebration usually lasted only three hours.
Sitting in one place for four hours could literally give someone hemorrhoids.
Even if not for the sake of the students' academic performance, the Class Teacher had to intervene just to spare the entire school's faculty and students' backsides.
Amidst the sighs and groans of most students, the Class Teacher announced this policy.
Worried that too few slots might lead to intense competition and even more rigorous training for just two or three spots, he suggested everyone participate in one combined act.
The students weren't opposed to participating in a single act together — while points were important, so were fun and togetherness.
Some students were already brainstorming how to incorporate all the previously planned activities into one performance.
To prevent thirty-two people from simultaneously letting their imaginations run wild, the Class Teacher gave everyone five minutes for group discussions, after which each group would present one suggestion.
Class Teacher: This way, at least I can turn thirty-two outrageous answers into eight, I'm so clever, hehe.
Shi Li's group was the third to speak, and during the first two groups' presentations, Shi Li realized their answer was quite normal.
Finally, it was Shi Li's turn to speak for her group. She said, "Our group's idea is to have the entire class perform a choir piece together, as it has a low barrier to entry."
Finally, a sensible answer came forth, and the Class Teacher's tone was gentle as he asked, "Do you have any recommended songs?"
This question hadn't come up during their earlier discussion, as they had used the time to share a difficult problem instead, and the whole choir idea was just Shi Li's quick thinking.
Let alone having any recommended songs — when asked, they had none.
But being a student who always answered questions, Shi Li gave a confident response, "After our group's discussion, we think the whole class singing 'Yellow River Cantata' would be very meaningful. It's such a stirring song..."
[Most importantly, you just need to shout it out, no technique needed, just pure emotion]
Classmates: ......
Speaking of shouting, had she forgotten about losing her voice not long ago?
After all groups had finished presenting, Shi Li realized her group's suggestion was too ordinary.
[I often feel out of place among you all because I'm not weird enough]
