After Si Tian and Ji Jiangzhou left, the two children stood and sat alone. Ji Ningyi glanced at Ji Zhile quietly a few times, but Ji Zhile refused to look at him.
After thinking about it, Ji Ningyi turned the doorknob and walked out.
Hearing the sound of closing the door, Ji Zhile took a careful look at the door. Now he was the only one in the room, Ji Zhile pouted his lips. It was just right for him to be alone, he did not want to see his brother.
Ji Zhile put the pillow on the bed, smoothed out the marks on the pillow with his hands, and then climbed out of bed, ready to find a pen and a notebook.
Isn’t it just writing a self-criticism? It’s not like he hasn’t written it before, he has experience.
There is a desk in the room, Ji Zhile opened the drawer to search, but only found books, no pens.
How could there be no pen? Ji Zhile decided to go out to look for it, when there was a ‘click’ from the door.
The door opened and Ji Zhile turned his head. Seeing his brother walking in, he turned his head immediately and resolutely fulfilled his duty not to talk to anyone he hated.
But as the footsteps were getting closer, Ji Zhile’s ears moved. He felt his brother behind him and then a pen was placed on the desk in front of him.
“Pen for you.”
Ji Zhile glanced down: “I don’t want it.”
He doesn’t want his brother’s things, he wants to go out and find them himself!
“Grandma said that there are only these two pens at home and there are no extras.” This is what Grandma said and Ji Ningyi did not lie.
Ji Zhile pouted, took the pen reluctantly, picked up the notebook he found in the drawer, and wrote the self-criticism on the paper, even though both words were in pinyin.
After finishing writing, he glanced at Ji Ningyi quietly from the corner of his eye. His brother did not have a notebook…
Ji Zhile thought for a while, tore off two pages of paper, and pushed them to him without looking at him: “Give it back to you.”
“Thank you, Zhile.”
Ji Zhile snorted lightly: “I don’t want your thanks.”
Two children sat at the same desk to write the self-criticism. Ji Zhile was younger and could not write any words yet, but he could write pinyin and 80% of his writing was also in pinyin.
It’s just that when Ji Zhile encountered the word “Jiu”, Ji Zhile’s pen stopped. He remembered that his mother said that his pinyin was wrong, but now Ji Zhile could not remember how to write the correct pinyin.
If it was before, he could ask his brother…
Ji Zhile quietly turned his head a little. From the corner of his eye, he saw that his brother had already written five rows, which was much more than him. He had almost written all the characters, with only a few pinyin.
Ji Zhile’s pupils trembled, how could this happen!
The contrast between them is too tragic. Ji Zhile is sad. He can’t remember the pinyin, and if he can’t remember it, he can’t write it, which makes him even sadder. This is simply a vicious circle.
“Is there any character that Zhile can’t write?” A childish and soft voice sounded beside Ji Zhile.
Ji Zhile immediately protected his notebook, vigilant like a small animal: “No!”
He turned around, turned his back to Ji Ningyi, and continued to think.
Just after a while, his shoulder was poked lightly and a piece of paper was placed in front of him.
Ji Zhile glanced at it and was startled. There were three rows of characters on it, and the pinyin was marked on it, including “Jiu” that Ji Zhile could not write.
In the end, the desire to complete the self-criticism was greater than the thought of fighting his anger, so Ji Zhile wrote the words according to what Ji Ningyi wrote and he could continue writing.
But when encountering the pinyin of the next word to think about, Ji Zhile was surprised to find that the word was still on this piece of paper.
Of course, he knew it was written by his brother. They grew up together and knew each other well enough.
In the end, Ji Zhile could not hold it back and glanced at Ji Ningyi quietly. Unexpectedly, Ji Ningyi was also looking at him and smiled at him. Ji Zhile immediately looked back and poked the pen tip on the book. After a while, he said softly, “Why did you write these words to me?”
Ji Ningyi’s soft voice sounded: “It’s easy for you to misspell these pinyin. I remembered it and wrote it for you.”
Ji Zhile did not look at him and dawdled with the nib of the pen on the notebook again, whispering: “I know it…”
“Well, Zhile is very smart, but pinyin is difficult to learn and other children have to learn for a long time.”
This sentence pleased Ji Zhile, and at the same time, brought back some memories in his heart.
My elder brother taught him to recognize and write pinyin, because he wanted to read storybooks but he did not know how to read and write pinyin. His elder brother treated him very well at that time and remembered that he always could not write pinyin well. But, why did he leave him in the woods today?
After Si Tian and Ji Jiangzhou left, the two children stood and sat alone. Ji Ningyi glanced at Ji Zhile quietly a few times, but Ji Zhile refused to look at him.
After thinking about it, Ji Ningyi turned the doorknob and walked out.
Hearing the sound of closing the door, Ji Zhile took a careful look at the door. Now he was the only one in the room, Ji Zhile pouted his lips. It was just right for him to be alone, he did not want to see his brother.
Ji Zhile put the pillow on the bed, smoothed out the marks on the pillow with his hands, and then climbed out of bed, ready to find a pen and a notebook.
Isn’t it just writing a self-criticism? It’s not like he hasn’t written it before, he has experience.
There is a desk in the room, Ji Zhile opened the drawer to search, but only found books, no pens.
How could there be no pen? Ji Zhile decided to go out to look for it, when there was a ‘click’ from the door.
The door opened and Ji Zhile turned his head. Seeing his brother walking in, he turned his head immediately and resolutely fulfilled his duty not to talk to anyone he hated.
But as the footsteps were getting closer, Ji Zhile’s ears moved. He felt his brother behind him and then a pen was placed on the desk in front of him.
“Pen for you.”
Ji Zhile glanced down: “I don’t want it.”
He doesn’t want his brother’s things, he wants to go out and find them himself!
“Grandma said that there are only these two pens at home and there are no extras.” This is what Grandma said and Ji Ningyi did not lie.
Ji Zhile pouted, took the pen reluctantly, picked up the notebook he found in the drawer, and wrote the self-criticism on the paper, even though both words were in pinyin.
After finishing writing, he glanced at Ji Ningyi quietly from the corner of his eye. His brother did not have a notebook…
Ji Zhile thought for a while, tore off two pages of paper, and pushed them to him without looking at him: “Give it back to you.”
“Thank you, Zhile.”
Ji Zhile snorted lightly: “I don’t want your thanks.”
Two children sat at the same desk to write the self-criticism. Ji Zhile was younger and could not write any words yet, but he could write pinyin and 80% of his writing was also in pinyin.
It’s just that when Ji Zhile encountered the word “Jiu”, Ji Zhile’s pen stopped. He remembered that his mother said that his pinyin was wrong, but now Ji Zhile could not remember how to write the correct pinyin.
If it was before, he could ask his brother…
Ji Zhile quietly turned his head a little. From the corner of his eye, he saw that his brother had already written five rows, which was much more than him. He had almost written all the characters, with only a few pinyin.
Ji Zhile’s pupils trembled, how could this happen!
The contrast between them is too tragic. Ji Zhile is sad. He can’t remember the pinyin, and if he can’t remember it, he can’t write it, which makes him even sadder. This is simply a vicious circle.
“Is there any character that Zhile can’t write?” A childish and soft voice sounded beside Ji Zhile.
Ji Zhile immediately protected his notebook, vigilant like a small animal: “No!”
He turned around, turned his back to Ji Ningyi, and continued to think.
Just after a while, his shoulder was poked lightly and a piece of paper was placed in front of him.
Ji Zhile glanced at it and was startled. There were three rows of characters on it, and the pinyin was marked on it, including “Jiu” that Ji Zhile could not write.
In the end, the desire to complete the self-criticism was greater than the thought of fighting his anger, so Ji Zhile wrote the words according to what Ji Ningyi wrote and he could continue writing.
But when encountering the pinyin of the next word to think about, Ji Zhile was surprised to find that the word was still on this piece of paper.
Of course, he knew it was written by his brother. They grew up together and knew each other well enough.
In the end, Ji Zhile could not hold it back and glanced at Ji Ningyi quietly. Unexpectedly, Ji Ningyi was also looking at him and smiled at him. Ji Zhile immediately looked back and poked the pen tip on the book. After a while, he said softly, “Why did you write these words to me?”
Ji Ningyi’s soft voice sounded: “It’s easy for you to misspell these pinyin. I remembered it and wrote it for you.”
Ji Zhile did not look at him and dawdled with the nib of the pen on the notebook again, whispering: “I know it…”
“Well, Zhile is very smart, but pinyin is difficult to learn and other children have to learn for a long time.”
This sentence pleased Ji Zhile, and at the same time, brought back some memories in his heart.
My elder brother taught him to recognize and write pinyin, because he wanted to read storybooks but he did not know how to read and write pinyin. His elder brother treated him very well at that time and remembered that he always could not write pinyin well. But, why did he leave him in the woods today?
