Literary version:
I have no youth. Growing up, I lived in a world of pure white test papers and black ink renderings. I had few close friends and no one I particularly liked. During that period of wanton and bright years when they were seventeen or eighteen years old, there were stories about them: passionate confessions, lingering breaths, romantic and cliched plots... And I was just a supporting role in the story that could not be simpler. I was used to being alone, used to eating alone, reading alone, and walking alone. I thought I would continue like this until one day, another lonely you appeared.
Real version:
It is a joyful story about a group of little kids who are always preparing for the college entrance examination, living in fear under the eyes of their class teacher every day, and even desperately trying to fall in love.