Bloom My Eighteen Years Old

During the summer vacation of my senior year in high school, when the bell rang for the last English exam, I was like a prisoner who had received an amnesty order, finally breaking free from the prison of more than 300 days and nights trapped by the college entrance examination. The wind was brisk the moment I walked out of the examination room. I stood under the scorching sun and repeatedly confirmed to myself that that hellish place filled with test papers and scratch papers, where even raising my head to look at the clouds was a waste of time. No matter how many snacks or free air conditioners were given to me, I would not be willing to go back. So I played almost without restraint. I threw all the time that had been occupied by solving questions and the energy I had saved for three years into playing online games day and night. I soaked in the KTV boxes with colorful lights on. Even the streets in the early morning left our wandering footprints. This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.