"I just don't like emotional knives! I didn't work it out on purpose because I didn't want to see this tragedy end that way! Why doesn't Old Jian understand my good intentions?! X is really so pitiful! I even want to write a novel called The Devotion of Unknown X."
Bai Bufan covered his face and muttered in pain and indignation.
"You seem like the kind of person who'd cry while watching a sword-forging competition and complain about why this variety show has so many emotional knives," Lin Li sneered.
"Sigh, sorrow has inspired my poetic soul."
Ignoring Lin Li, Bai Bufan felt that writing books was too hard. Right now, he just wanted to compose a haiku. He took a deep breath:
"Jian-Jian, you big idiot,
Baka baka,
But I don't hate you."
Lin Li gave him a thumbs-up. "Absolutely hilarious. And baka baka? I'll hit you with a rattata."
The poetry test results were in: the poem was guilty of being cringe.
"Compared to rattata, I prefer Farfetch'd with its own seasoning."
Bai Bufan smiled, casually tossed his test paper onto the desk, and slumped in his seat with a look of complete surrender. "Forget Old Jian for now. Tch, why is it already almost finals week? So annoying."
"What's so annoying about it? Shouldn't you be looking forward to finals week even more?" Lin Li glanced at him.
Bai Bufan's family wasn't the kind of high-pressure household that would immediately give him a severe lecture just because his ranking dropped a few places. They wanted him to do well, but they didn't place excessive importance on it, so he shouldn't have been under much pressure from exams.
"What annoys me isn't the academic final. There's PE this afternoon. What annoys me is the PE final."
Bai Bufan