Every stage of life has its own melody.
Youth is as bitter as a song and as gorgeous as the summer sun.
In my memory, every speech made by the leader with a local accent, the swishing of pens in and out of class, the whirring and rotating fans, and the daily details are piled up bit by bit to form the life of high school.
At a certain moment, when the floodgates of memory suddenly open,
It turns out that those three years have been as dull as water, with occasional bright scorching sun.
Purpose: After completing nine years of compulsory education, the core socialist values have given us a blow.