The old fan with peeling paint was spinning "squeak" and "squeak" above the classroom. The white wall peeling off the ceiling hit the cement floor and it was hard to tell which part of the dust belonged to it. The sweat in the classroom was mixed with the smell of various snacks and fermented, creating a strange smell. The breeze blew in from the dilapidated window and dispersed it, allowing the students in the classroom to take a moment to breathe.
Chen Xi raised his sour eyes and looked at the podium. A young man was sitting in front of the podium writing furiously. When the wind blew from the window, he raised his head and felt the hard-earned breeze. Perhaps he felt something. Shen Mo turned his head and caught the sight of him unexpectedly. Then he chuckled.
His chuckle was like a gust of wind blowing through Chen Xi's heart, causing ripples.
Since then he has had an unspeakable secret.
Intention: The direction of the heart is the orientation