席祖儿's slender hand made a gentle sweep in the air.
In an instant.
The desolate autumn wind followed, lifting layers of fallen leaves straight towards the maple trees on one side of the school path.
The nails that had just been driven into the maple tree fell with a rustling sound.
Without the support of the nails, the giant poster leaned off the tree, caught by the wind, fluttering wildly.
The group of senior students panicked, scattered in haste, chasing after the floating posters. But the mischievous wind played tricks, making the posters rise and fall, escaping their grasp.
After running breathlessly around the bushes, finally hoping for the wind to stop, the posters landed on the ground. Just as they were about to pick them up, they slipped and lunged towards Mr. Wu on the poster.
"Could it be that the heavens want me to embrace Mr. Wu?" The exhausted seniors cried tears of joy.
But who knew.
