Fan Dinghao was obviously a little surprised. "Lu Ke has always cherished his fingers. He'd avoid playing unnecessarily as much as he could, but he's playing the piano for a long time today. Could it be that his fingers have almost recovered?"
Ling Rong shook her head and said, "How could it be so easy to recover? If he really recovered, he wouldn't have been unable to even win an international competition in the past seven or eight years."
After saying that, she realized that there was nothing wrong with Fan Dinghao's fingers. But he had not won an international competition either. Her words could be considered as a slap to his face as well.
Fortunately, Fan Dinghao's attention was not on this. He only said, "If he continues to use his fingers like this, I'm afraid it'll be dangerous for him."
"If he doesn't cherish his fingers, he can't blame anyone else. He's the one asking for it," Ling Rong said indifferently.
