Yu Qingjia was violently hit in the head, and she was stunned for a moment. He did not even raise his eyes, and directly threw it back with his backhand. He was obviously very speechless at Yu Qingjia’s actions. He found out that it was just a ball of paper. He held it in front of him and looked at it. Murong Yan didn’t even turn his head back and precisely grabbed the ball of paper. Before she had time to react, the ball of paper in her hand flew towards the other side. A sudden gust of wind blew in from the window, and the water was wet and moist. She was watching the rain and was bored, so she folded paper into various shapes to play. It suddenly rained today, and the teacher of classics and history was probably delayed by the rain and has not come over yet.
It was smashing on the green stone slab, and splashing out so many fine puddles. The water and the sky lined up outside the window, and raindrops were slipping down from the eaves one after another. The rain is pattering Outside, Yu Qingjia is currently propping up her chin to watch the rain.
Qingzhou and Yanzhou are thousands of miles apart, and at this time, Qingzhou is still shrouded in a blanket of smoke and rain.
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