At the end of the year, the monthly pass is doubled, just a few times a year, and I always have to show it to prove that at least I am not a salted fish.

Although it didn't erupt, and I didn't feel too embarrassed to ask for a monthly pass, you can't stop an author from making a determination to be motivated, right?

Even if you don't have a clear goal, the satisfaction of watching the monthly pass go up little by little is indescribable.

The monthly ticket rises, and the night can die!

That's probably what it means!

Anyway, it's the end of the month, and the monthly pass is invalid if you keep it in your hand, so it's better to imagine them as bricks one by one, and slap them in the author's face.

You're happy, I'm so happy!

Come on, kill me!

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