Weed Formula

When he was thirteen years old, he couldn't hold back the crazy old scalper and fell into the mud with a scar that penetrated half of his face. Teacher Wu asked him: "Do you want to be a bully for the rest of your life, or should you go to the third year of high school with me?" Then, a "little teaching assistant" who was as silent as iron and illiterate appeared in Class 8 of the third year of high school. When he was fourteen years old, he took over the class baton and used his hardest fists to force the worst group of people in the class to memorize the most difficult texts. Teacher Wu asked him: "Want to be a little teacher in the town, or should you come with me to the city for a look?" So, a "wild boy" with thick black eyebrows and cold eyes sat in the back row of No. 1 Middle School. He doesn't know what talent is. He only knows that solving a calculus is no different from harvesting an acre of land. If fate were an unsolvable geometry problem, he would draw the sharpest auxiliary line with the ferocity of a weed. ——"I know a little bit about boxing and a little bit about mathematics."