"You...you're done writing?!"
The three people spoke in unison, their voices instantly rising in volume.
This attracted the attention of the students around him who were doing their homework.
Zhang Ya's eyes widened:
"We only received the questions yesterday, and only a few hours have passed?"
Don't you need to brainstorm? Don't you need to make an outline?
"It's done."
Lin Que nodded as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
"I spent five minutes composing in the shower, and then forty minutes writing. That's not exactly fast, is it?"
Zhang Ya opened her mouth, but couldn't say a word, feeling as if she had been hit with a critical strike.
Some people can come up with an essay for a competition in the time it takes them to take a shower.
I racked my brains all night trying to figure out how to write the first sentence.
"Then...what did you write?"
Li Bowen pressed on relentlessly, his eyes filled with a thirst for knowledge.
"Share your thoughts? Let us admire you."
Lin Que blinked and casually made up a story:
"Oh, nothing special. I just wrote a weather forecast."
"ha?"
The three looked at each other, their faces full of questions.
Weather forecast?
The topic is "Silent Thunder," and you're writing a weather forecast?
Is this some kind of postmodern performance art?
"It's like... listening to the snow."
Lin Que shrugged, his face full of inscrutable meaning.
"Oh dear, the sound of falling snow is inaudible, but it's very cold. That's roughly the idea."
Zhang Ya's lips twitched slightly:
"Tch, if you don't want to talk, just say so. There's no need to humiliate us like this."
Lin Que smiled but offered no explanation.
Some things just lose their flavor when you say them out loud.
When they read the article "Listening to Snow," they will naturally understand what a "weather forecast" is.
"Oh well, never mind."
Zhang Ya sighed and slumped dejectedly onto the table.
"It seems I'll have to look through old collections of perfect-score essays."
Let's see if we can find some inspiration in that pile of old, stale ideas.
"Stop flipping through essay collections, they'll only make you more rigid."
Li Bowen suddenly suggested.
"I heard from the seniors that instead of reading those formulaic essays, it's better to read newspapers and magazines."
Reality is always more fantastical than fiction; who knows, a single sentence in the news might just strike a chord with you.
"Hey! That makes sense!"
Liu Hui's eyes lit up.
"Doesn't our class's reading corner update with the Jiangsu Daily and various magazines every day?"
Let's go, let's go take a look!
The group grasped at a straw as if it were their only hope.
They swarmed to the reading corner at the back of the classroom.
Lin Que had nothing better to do, and since he was a little full after drinking soy milk, he leisurely followed along.
A reading corner is actually just a simple bookshelf.
There were a few magazines and the day's newspaper scattered on top.
Zhang Ya was quick; she snatched the still-smelling copy of the Jiangsu Daily and spread it out on her desk.
"Come on, let's brainstorm and see if we can find any usable materials."
Several heads huddled together, as if studying a treasure map.
"...Provincial leaders inspected a certain factory and emphasized safe production...Tsk, too politically correct and too professionally competent, pass."
"...The 20th anniversary of the opening of Jiangcheng Bridge...Can I write about this? About the changes in history? The silent years?"
Li Bowen shook his head in rejection.
"International news: an armed conflict has occurred somewhere... This is too far away from us."
The group rummaged through the pages noisily, muttering complaints under their breath.
Lin Que stood on the outside, biting a straw.
My gaze swept across the crowd and landed on the colorful billboards, with a hint of curiosity.
Having traveled to the present day, he learned about the barrenness of the literary world and the advancement of technology.
However, they haven't yet thoroughly studied the various aspects of society in this world.
He wanted to see what would happen without the influence of those familiar classic works.
The trajectory of human nature in this world
And what are the differences between the joys and sorrows that happen every day and the previous life?
"Why is this page full of praise and eulogy?"
Zhang Ya was getting a little annoyed by the newspaper, so she flipped it over with a whoosh.
"Isn't there anything profound? Even just addressing a societal pain point would be fine."
Just then, Liu Hui, who had been silent, suddenly stopped pointing.
Her fingertips lingered in the bottom crevice of the newspaper.
They usually post inconspicuous missing person notices or lost item declarations there.
But today, a line of startling bold text is printed on it.
"Hey, look at this..."
Liu Hui's voice was very low, carrying a hint of inexplicable coldness.
"This title... is a bit creepy."
Everyone's heads immediately crowded around.
It was indeed an unremarkable block of tofu.
It stands out conspicuously amidst a chorus of news reports about "community warmth" and "stable vegetable prices."
It's like a dark spot suddenly appearing on a clean, white face.
The title, printed in bold black font, exudes a bloody and realistic feel.
Nanjing University female college student falls to her death late at night! She was burdened with millions in "cosmetic surgery loans" before her death.
...
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