Then came the first climax: the student killed the principal's dog.
So the plot began to be out of control like the imagination of a writer running a train in his head. The old professor ran away with the students and the dead dog, and the editor fell in love with the students at first sight and experienced a series of nonsensical funny things. Here, I suddenly realized that maybe I don't need to read any plot, just feel one, or the imagination of a group of writers. Tracing back to the source, unique creativity is the soul of a writer.
If you want, then the whole life is up to you.
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