He laughs, laughing at himself.
The two pieces of black and white are at odds, but in a game of chess, until the end, you don't know whether you will win or lose.
Because the player in the game is yourself, not others.
Finally, the chess pieces fell to the ground, black and white intermingling, making a crackling sound.
In the end, there was no goal or direction.
What is it for?
He asked himself, at his grave.
It's early autumn.
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This copywriting is useless! In short, this is a messy short story [...] That revolves around the party secretary and political commissar.
In fact, I'm halfway through writing now and I almost don't know what I want to say...
Specifically, I will write a detailed explanation after I finish this article = =.