Ning Yan smiled bitterly and said, "Are you going to copy poems again?"

Jing'er's expression changed, and the scumbag alarm in her mind instantly sounded, and she narrowed her eyes suspiciously: "Again?"

Ning Yan's heart skipped a beat, and she suddenly felt a chill running down her spine.

Sometimes a woman may be really talented at certain things. An elegant and beautiful woman like Miss Jing, who is pure but not seductive, once enters the state of torture with her eyes, she is self-taught and tortures him to the point where he has no choice but to talk about himself.

"Well, um... the fire trees are flying in the clouds and the red phoenixes are flying, and the beautiful flowers are falling all over the ground!"

"Where's the back?"

"I can't remember."

Jing'er didn't embarrass him and continued to ask. He would probably just say that it was a fragment of a sentence casually hummed by a wandering Taoist priest who passed by his house when he was a child, or he read it in an ancient book, and added a bunch of names of people he had never heard of before.

Be an author.

He obviously has the ability to speak well, but he has no intention of taking the imperial examination. He smiles playfully every day and wastes his talent wantonly.

However, perhaps it is this casualness that is the most fatal to Jing'er.

Unfettered, able to care less about other people's opinions and live freely.
Chapter completed!