What should we do if the book we repeatedly travel through is not a novel or a script, but three hundred Tang poems?
What should we do if the problem we repeatedly overcome is not to complete the task or achieve the goal, but to find clues and derive verses to eliminate others?
In response to this, the person involved, Jiang Yue, replied: Cold!
——I want to live! No matter how difficult it is and how bad the waves are!
Then one night when he was struggling to find clues, he met that outrageously beautiful bastard.
The bastard's eyes flashed, and he spoke in standard Mandarin pretending to be Cantonese-style, speaking in a clear and round tone:
"Beautiful boy, you are a student, you have entered 300 poems and you still have to write questions!"
"Oh, I fell down and I need a kiss from a pretty boy to get up!"
"Pretty boy, pretty boy, I like you so much! What's your last sentence?"
Jiang Yue looked blank: ""This handsome voice really makes people lose themselves gradually. As for the last sentence..."
He smiled brightly and pointed at the huge ball of light above his head: ""You guessed it, you guessed it wrong, it will turn into ashes! "
~~~~~~~~~~~~Small Theater~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jiang Yue was married with a fucking feeling.
Because the person getting married is a certain bastard who has been cheating on her.
He pointed at a certain bastard expressionlessly: "Why is he the husband?"
The bastard smiled with crooked eyebrows and pointed at his number: "8!"
Then he pointed to his own number: "7!"
Then he smiled and said, "I'm so excited!"
Anyway, life is so long, you don't have to chase your husband to the crematorium.
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An infinite essay with the theme of "Three Hundred Tang Poems".
It's hot outside and cold inside. It's painful, it's painful, it's loving, it's rational.
If you like it, please bookmark it and leave comments to encourage the author!
Intention: Chase hope and never give up