"Squeak --"

A dilapidated and heavy wooden door was pushed open from the outside, bringing a thick cloud of smoke and dust.

"Cough..."

The smoke made people in the office cough.

People outside the door were also temporarily fascinated.

Until the smoke and dust cleared up, there were two shadows, one big and one small.

A tall young man named Guan Haibo.

They are the latest batch of teachers who have come to Xinjiang to help.

Just two weeks after arriving at the post.

The little girl beside him, with big eyes, is called Subinur Aihemaiti.

He is a student in Guan Haibo's class, and also an authentic Uygur girl.

"Teacher Guan, knock on the door before coming in next time."

"Give us some time, put on the mask!" A middle-aged female teacher, who was bending her head and correcting her homework, glanced at the two people coming in with her spare time.

With a slightly complaining tone, he blamed.

When the smoke and dust just rose, she coughed the most.

"All right, Miss Yang."

"I'll pay attention next time." Guan Haibo nodded apologetically at the female teacher.

Then, holding Subinur Aihemaiti's small hand, he walked to his seat.

From the thick stack of homework, I took down the top one and spread it on my desk.

Pointing to a page full of notes, he said to the latter:

"Subinur, I have revised this poem you wrote."

"Look first, if you think it's OK, I will help you cast it!"

"As the first manuscript of our Class 1, Grade 4, participating in the activity of soliciting articles for the school journal!"

"All right, take care of the teacher." Subinur Ahemaiti stood in the office, looking a little stiff.

She first picked up the book from the table.

Carefully read every sentence and every note above.

Subinur Aihemaiti looked at it carefully, as if he would not miss every punctuation mark.

However, her Chinese level is really limited.

When encountering some complex Chinese characters, Guan Haibo still needs to explain something to her.

"This' Qinghui 'is a very beautiful artistic conception word, which can be used to refer to the brightness of the sun and the moon, as well as the bright moonlight."

"I use it here to describe the loneliness of the moon, which can better reflect the poetic scene when a clear moon hangs in the sky alone."

"It also fits better. The environment in the picture I showed you!", Guan Haibo sat in his seat for a while, then got up again.

Go to Subinur Aihemaiti's side, point to a word above, and explain.

"Oh!", Subinur Aihemaiti nodded vaguely.

Bend down and use a pencil to record what Guan Haibo is referring to.

Later, she read this article aloud with great emotion and voice, and Guan Haibo revised it for her:

"The lights at night show their fairy tale world."

"The melody flowing in the dream castle is gorgeous and colorful."

"The moonlight is shining lonely, the stars are dim, and a cloud obscures his face."

"Students on the playground, silhouette their own heights."

"The noise throws happiness into the light and looks forward to tomorrow's sunrise!"

Although Subinur Aihemaiti has not yet fully understood the artistic conception of this poem.

However, this does not affect her love for this poem.

After reading it carefully twice.

"Ding Ling Ling -"

The bell rang in the corridor.

"Teacher Guan, thank you!"

"This poem is very well modified. I like it very much."

"I will go to class first...", Su Binur Aihemaiti tightly clutched his homework book.

He thanked Guan Haibo and ran out quickly.

However, from her happy smile, and silver bell like laughter.

Guan Haibo can still feel the joy of the other party.