He also saw several candidates who had returned. From their mouths, Mason vaguely heard words like "math is difficult" and "English is easy". Everyone said something different, but they were all equally excited or frustrated. He pursed his lips, squeezed out the smoke from his mouth, and nervously guessed how Noah had done in the exam.
No matter how you think about it, you should be the one who said "The question is so easy", right?
He kept circling back and forth, looking in the direction of the gate countless times, until almost seven o'clock, when he finally saw the man riding back slowly. He still had earplugs in his ears, and the wheels of the bicycle did not go in a straight line, but instead rolled out "S"-shaped bends on the path.
Mason tilted his head, stood still and waited for him to come over.
The sun at seven o'clock was still bright and warm. Noah held a transparent file bag in one hand. The file bag was washed by the sunlight again and again. The 2B pencil and black signing pen were engraved with a layer of afterglow, but the traces of the struggle were still clear.
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