Things took a ridiculous turn. Just when she poured the cup of milk tea that symbolized "the debts of past lives" and thought she had finally torn a hole in the bad script of fate, the cars of both parents were blocked directly at the school gate. No negotiation, just notification. Her father rubbed his hands and looked away: "Youyou, that child of the Ouyang family... We watched him grow up, there is no mistake." Her mother wiped away non-existent tears on the side. Ouyang Yu's side was even more impressive. His mother, who always wore a silk cheongsam and smiled like a measured girl, just patted the back of her hand gently, her tone as gentle as if she was discussing tonight's menu: "I have all my IDs with me. Just take a picture. I won't delay my evening self-study."
This is how the world works. Some rules are written on the surface, such as school rules and the college entrance examination system; some rules are engraved in the dark, such as the tacit understanding of family marriages, such as chips for exchanges of favors. Most people spend their lives learning how to navigate these rules, and few ask: Why? But someone will always ask. For example, the reborn Qin Xiaoyou looked at the pen and marriage certificate she held in her hand at the same time, and she probably thought the scene was ridiculous and a bit funny. And change often starts from feeling "funny".
Reader comments
Dear readers, please criticize and correct me, and give me some encouragement. It's not easy to code every day.
Dear readers, please criticize and correct me, and give me some encouragement. It's not easy to code every day.