"I need to practice more since I’m really lacking!"
...
"Get him out of the palace!"
...
"Useless, I want your help with my training!"
...
"Haha! I need to practice the Disconnection Technique ten more times!"
...
For three days straight, the entire workshop echoed with this maddening wailing, day and night, with no moments of peace.
If the soundproofing hadn’t been so good, Ji Jue might have been kicked out by Professor Ye long ago, or worse, beforehand, shot dead by Ye Chun’s rampaging blows.
But as they say,
"The sounds of my roommate's writing are like heavenly music, while the flipping of pages is akin to deafening renovation."
Just watching him manage to forget his meals and sleep, one fellow named Ye, who was rather lazy, was already feeling somewhat mentally drained.
He even dreamed that a certain creature was crazily flipping pages right behind him, cackling and drooling: “Senior sister, senior sister, come to my place tonight; my thesis does somersaults!”
Keep flipping those pages!
Better to die from it sooner!
I've already booked the best view at Tianmen Lake for you; once you turn to dust, it'll become a new scenic spot at Tianmen University—The Fate of a Dog!
Ye Chun, sprawled on the couch, tossed and turned, unable to muster even a sliver of sleep, no matter what.
She just couldn't nap in peace.