"Please have the parents sit in order, no crowding."
"Parents of Grade 2 Class 3, please go to the left side of the stands and take your seats according to your ticket numbers."
"Xiao Meng, check what numbers Xiao Yu's tickets are."
"16, 17, 18."
"Over here, hey! Hello, please get me a bag of popcorn and two bottles of salty soda," Yan Weiwei called out to a passing vendor.
Sitting amidst a bustling crowd of parents, Meng Lang felt the lively atmosphere of human life, but his mood was somewhat heavy.
In another 25 years, all of this before me will probably dissipate like beautiful bubbles, gone with the wind...
How annoying!
Why do I, a simpleton who only thinks about surviving to a ripe old age eating buns and fried dough sticks, always have to bear the pressures that shouldn't burden someone my age...
Is this what they call passively "worrying about the world before anything else"?
"Uh... Brother Meng, you're here too?"