My whole family is the protagonist, and I am the only cannon fodder!

Li Jianan took the draft paper back and stared at the words on it carefully for a few seconds. Finally, he moved it aside and smacked his lips in disgust. "Damn, it's so ugly that it makes me want to vomit. It's really no different from a ghost painting. It's hard for you to recognize it so early."

Lu Zao Zao smiled immediately.

Li Jianan remembered something and asked curiously, "Hey, Zao Zao, didn't you hurt your hand before? I saw you writing with your left hand. How come your handwriting looks a bit like a human being? It's pretty good. Did you practice before?"

"Yeah, I practiced for a while."

"How did you come up with the idea of ​​practicing something like this?"

I couldn't tell Li Jianan that I had developed this skill because I had been injured too many times by accident or chance. "I just practiced a few more times when I was bored, and then I got it right. But my writing is not that good, it's just barely passable."

"Okay, okay." Li Jianan glanced at his left hand, then at the messy handwriting on his draft paper. "I think it might be because I'm not using the right strength in my wrist. Zao Zao, teach me how to use the strength."

"Okay, then write a few words for me first, so I can see how you write."

Li Jianan did as she was told. Lu Zaozao watched her write a few more words, then held the back of her hand and guided her to write a few more words.

"In fact, writing with both hands is pretty much the same. The most important thing is to hold the pen in the right position, with the fingers coordinating with each other, the pen resting against the base of the thumb, and not holding the pen too tightly. Try to keep your fingers and wrists relaxed and don't let your muscles be tense."

"Okay, okay, I get it. Let go of my hand sooner rather than later and I'll practice on my own."

But knowing and practicing are two completely different things, and Li Jianan's handwriting is still horrible.

"You're holding the pen too far back." Li Jianan straightened his pen immediately after he finished speaking. Lu Zaozao continued, "You can't hold it too straight either. Your wrist should be slightly suspended in the air, parallel to the paper. If you press it completely on the paper, the handwriting will look weird."

"Okay, okay, I've remembered it all."

"It's okay, take your time. Even if you write with your right hand, it's impossible to write neatly and beautifully just by mastering the correct method, let alone with your left hand. Just practice more. I'll practice with you."

"Okay, hehe."

So Lu Zaozao also took out her own draft book, and accompanied Li Jianan to play this boring calligraphy game on such a peaceful and quiet afternoon. She had nothing to write, and saw Li Jianan write on a new blank page of her paper - Li Jianan wanted to be good friends with Lu Zaozao forever.

Lu Zaozao curled up the corners of her lips and smiled, then followed Li Jianan and wrote in her own draft book - Lu Zaozao wanted to be good friends with Li Jianan for life.

A lifetime is so long, and so short.

Mayflies live in the morning and die in the evening, and can only see the sunrise and sunset of the human world. Cicadas chirp for a whole summer and then die. Butterflies flap their wings and fly over grass, forests, and hills. After a few rounds, they will waste their few days and then stop completely.

What about people? — Can people have one decade after another? Can people wait for a fragile seedling to grow into a towering tree? Can people follow all the promises they made and see if they get what they want after a few years?

Lu Zaozao looked at Li Jianan's profile. She was still writing seriously with her head down. Her right hand with a pure white bandage was placed on the table, and her left hand was writing and drawing. Her vitality was growing vigorously. Sometimes Lu Zaozao also relied on this brilliance to catch her breath.

Ten minutes later, Li Jianan suddenly threw away her pen, looked at the entire page of draft paper that contained something she couldn't even tell what it was, clicked her tongue, then turned her head and looked at Lu Zaozao in annoyance.

"So early, I really won't practice anymore. By the time I learn to write with my left hand, my right hand should have recovered." She closed the draft book and sighed, "If I had the energy to do such boring things, I could have memorized a lot of English words and gone through stories and classical Chinese. Forget it, it's not worth it."

"Okay." Lu Zaozao agreed with Li Jianan's idea, because she also felt that it was unnecessary to waste time and energy on such things. If it was okay before, it would be fine, but now time is tight, it is really not worth it. "Go to sleep for a while and have a good rest."

Li Jianan walked to the locker at the back of the classroom and took out two small blankets, handed one to Lu Zaozao, and put the other on her desk. Lu Zaozao was tidying up the books on her desk and preparing to go to bed. When she was about to put the draft paper into the desk, she suddenly froze and paused.

"Zao Zao, what's wrong with you?"

"It's okay." Lu Zao Zao folded the blanket and placed it on the table, straightened Li Jianan's cuffs, and said, "Go to sleep."

"Yeah." Li Jianan quickly buried his face in his arms and fell asleep comfortably.

Lu Zao Zao found that she often realized things belatedly. For example, now, she took a deep breath, still staring at the word "forever" on the draft book, because these two words were becoming more and more familiar.

She even wrote the two words again on the draft book with her left hand.

Lu Zaozao had many dreams since she was a child, and countless fragmented memories popped up in her mind. Some of them she had long forgotten, but some were still deeply engraved in her mind - but she still remembered this one.

That time she had many dreams in succession. She dreamed of her childhood and her past lives. She wanted to wake up, but found that such a wish was too extravagant. She could only enter dreams of different periods and scenes again and again.

Then came the last scene of the dream. There was no one around and the scene was unusually quiet, so quiet that it felt quite eerie.

The picture sparingly reveals only a corner of a table. Everything seems dim and depressing under the evening light. There is a piece of paper on the table with a sentence on it. The handwriting is messy and not neat, but heavy and powerful. The pen is so sharp that it seems to want to poke the paper open and the ink seeps into the table top.

Lu Zaozao still remembered the feeling of her breathing pausing when she saw the words written on the note in her dream.