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I miss that big playground so much. Always looking forward to the bell ringing at the end of the eighth class, we are always like arrows off the string, holding the basketball to the court, always a group of familiar people, always hearty.
I miss the classroom with its stacks of books. I vaguely remember where I was sitting, the note that came to me during class, the teacher's voice, and the background music of eye exercises on the stereo hanging on the wall.
Two rows of plane trees on the university campus shade the sky and the sun, sporadic soft light falls on the ground, the wind blows, the shadows of the trees sway, like the shallow sea and sand, the precious memory of the campus time, such as the glow of the sun, but the friendship is intoxicated.
Anchor: Yang Mingze Editor: Zhang Renjie (Xi)
Editor-in-charge: Jia Lina Editor-in-chief: Wang Nan Review: Wang Zhicheng