Our junior high school math teacher is a wonderful flower, a Mediterranean man in his twenties, with a round head, a handsome beard and a standard figure. He always drinks with his friends and is late for class every time. Then he comes in with a red face and writes on the blackboard that he suddenly stopped moving. Then he is suddenly startled and says, "Oh, he almost fell asleep". I remember another time: our class took the exam 23 times in the whole grade. I threw the book on the podium, and then said with a serious face, "Our class did well in this exam, and the result was the last." Then I smiled and started gesturing, "When I come to your class, I will run from the second floor to the first floor, then walk from the first floor to the school gate, then run around the school, then go up to the fifth floor from the opposite stairs to your class, and then put a rope from their window and climb to your class." Just as he was about to write, he added, "Don't close the window of your class, or no one will give you a math lesson next time I can't get in." If I fall down one day, you will be responsible. "He is also a rare graduate student in our school.