My Dead Youth Suddenly Started Attacking Me

Lin Xi felt that his three years of high school would probably be in the hands of three people. One is her mother. On the first day of school, I stuffed mints into my schoolbag, and the WeChat message reported every hour: Baby, have you drank water? Baby, is your deskmate easy to get along with? Baby, mommy loves you. One is Lu Zhixing. When she was in junior high school, her old classmate, whom she had drawn on the 38th line for three years, still chased her to high school. On the first day of school, she blocked the door of the classroom: "Sister Lin, we are in the same class again. It's fate." Fate is a ghost. There was another one, the boy from the next class passing by. What's it called? Chen Shizhou. Can't remember clearly. All I know is that every time he passes by in the corridor, the girls in the class will collectively enter a strange state of silence. She never participated in such activities. Not really involved. At most, just look up occasionally. Just one glance. This is the story of Class 7 of Jiangcheng No. 1 Middle School, and it is also the story of many people. There is the braised pork window in the cafeteria that can never be queued, the pink sunset that suddenly explodes outside the evening self-study window, the short videos secretly viewed under the desk, the cold war and reconciliation between best friends, the chaos of the war that makes the heart beat for the first time, and the love that has not yet been expressed. Nothing earth-shattering. But every little thing is youth.