She cynically stuck a lady's cigarette, and the cicadas screamed impatiently outside the window. The sun shut the sunlight into the sycamore tree, and the sparse branches and leaves crushed the sunlight into bunches of light spots. The sunset outside the window was beautiful, but she used curtains to block the light that shone on her face impartially. There were only him and the boy in front of her in the classroom. This boy was holding a math book and teaching it seriously and sternly. He seemed to want to lead the first grade. The dirty and dull curtains blocked the sunset outside the window, but they did not block this beam of light. It shone into the girl's life. I mean, the foxtail grass grew wildly and she quit smoking that year.
Purpose: Facing school violence accurately without harming yourself