In the groggy afternoon, the fan whirred and blew waves of heat. At this time, the teacher's voice, which was rising and falling, was more like a hypnotic ditty.
Lin Jianyue took out a book with yellowed edges from the drawer. When she opened it, there was a pungent smell of ink.
The friction between chalk and blackboard turned into the collision of metal between swords, and the whispers between classmates turned into roars on the battlefield. Lin Jianyue fell into a long dream in English class.
Intention: growth