Beverly wore black-rimmed glasses for six years, and the whole school called her a . Her lover, Horace, turned her into a practice tool in bed. He said she had a good figure—suitable for practice, so as not to lose control and hurt his true love when they were together in the future. She endured it for a year. Until she was tied to an electric chair by her true love's friend and tortured into unconsciousness. When she woke up, she saw Horace smiling outside the hospital ward and saying, "How could I possibly like that ?" She took off her glasses. She pressed the confirmation button for her Harvard admission. She broke her phone card. At the opening ceremony, her photo spread across the national campus network. Horace kicked open the dormitory door, couldn't get through to her on the phone, and opened the envelope forwarded by the butler—inside was only a line of text: "Horace, let's break up. I know you used me as a practice tool, but I also used you as a massager, and the experience was okay. Don't see each other again in the future."
