Many years later, when we entered the real university and spent three, four, or even more years there, we understood. A university is just a university, a school, just a little bigger. It is not made of ivory, it is not mysterious, and there is no room of gold in it. Yan Ruyu may have it, but it may not belong to you. It's still reading inside, and most of what the teacher taught me, whether I learned it or I couldn't learn it, was given back. After you have stayed for enough time, do whatever you need to do when you get out. But it still partly overlaps with the ivory tower in our imagination. As a result, this overlapping part has forever locked up a part of our emotional soul, sealing up the best moments of our lives, the lingering joys and sorrows in our memories, love and hatred, and the person deep in our hearts who is unforgettable but unwilling to mention.
Many years later, I still remember that I once lived and struggled here, and there will always be a deep imprint in my heart that belongs only to it.
I want to write a story about a group of people who have struggled or are still struggling.
We cried, laughed, loved, and got drunk. The ups and downs brewed a pot of bad wine to pour out our lost innocence. . .