Everyone around me dispersed, and I lay on his desk and looked at him, with an unspeakable aggrieved tone, "Just tell me, how did you pass the exam, I will never tell anyone else." He didn't even raise his head, and didn't even give me a look. For a long time, I thought he wouldn't reply to me. As soon as I turned around, he said quietly, "Use a pen." I... Don't I know how to use a pen... Your uncle's (swearing in a low voice) "Ha... Haha... Really? What kind of pen is so easy to use, and it can even get first place in the exam." I gritted my teeth and stared at him. He finally raised his head and looked at me with disgust, "Don't you also have a 0.5 Mm black pen?" I'm petrified on the spot, of course I know I have, and there's a lot more to it, but is that a problem with the pen. Yes, it's my fault. I shouldn't be on the same level with him. I'm considered sick. If I talk to him, my life will be shortened!
Na! This is us, a person who is so angry that he will not pay for his life, but I can't refute what he said, and a person who has nothing to do to find a fight with me, and he can't do anything to me.
Purpose: commemorate our daily life and our youth