The second song, the wind rustling outside the Mofu window, frogs croaking around the cold pool. The moonlight is pale and colorless, and the stars are silent. I have been studying hard in the cold window for more than ten years, and the wind comes and rains to others. Failing the list is a foregone conclusion, and the cold wind and bitter rain will swallow it.
The third song is the feeling of falling off the list. Once you miss it, you will hate it for life. Two degrees, 30 thousand kinds of worries. Sweating for three years has flowed to the world. Tears are direct and bitter. Who knew that six parents were busy and bowed their heads for 70 days to sharpen a sword? Three years of hard work and hard work are hard to pay off.