Dim light, like a drop of thick ink, slowly dripped onto the museum's cold marble floor. The silence around was terrifying, only the bronze li with animal mask design in the glass display case stood silently, telling the secrets of thousands of years without a sound.
牙疼不是病？这话，打您小时候起，就没少听吧？起先是您妈，后来是您媳妇，再后来，兴许连您那刚换牙的孙子，也敢拿这话堵您的嘴了。
那间考研阅卷室，与其说是房间，不如说是一个无限延伸的回廊。四壁镶嵌着无数面镜子，每一面都歪歪斜斜，映照出扭曲的光影和重叠的人脸。房间中央，孤零零地摆放着一张桌子，桌上是一份薄薄的试卷，试卷上鲜红的“10”分，像一个永恒的嘲讽。
Li Ming received a letter, a letter from the tax bureau. The envelope was thin, light, as if it carried not paper, but a kind of void judgment. He opened the letter and read the words "tax refund," a feeling of inexplicable joy surged in his heart, immediately replaced by a deeper doubt.
李教授是中文系的“老古董”，最恨那些不肯动脑筋、依赖机器的学生。他立下规矩：凡是用AI写的作文，一律零分。这规矩在系里是出了名的，学生们背地里叫他“AI克星”。
老李倒下的时候，手里还攥着半杯枸杞菊花茶。
李婶儿，实验楼的清洁工，最近“升职”了。
Lao Li's alarm clock rang on time at 4:44 AM. He sat up with a start, not because of anything else, but because today was the "big day" - the day postgraduate entrance exam scores were released.
老李头最近有点烦。
李明盯着那份公示名单，眼睛瞪得像铜铃。