In the past couple of days, Rong Huo had been staying up late to write lyrics and compose music. Mr. Yin would call from time to time to urge him, "Is it done yet?"
Rong Huo was puzzled. In the past when he wrote lyrics and composed music, Mr. Yin never seemed to care, and he hadn't even listened to his songs much.
"It's not that easy. It's still a long way off."
Rong Huo pressed the speakerphone button and rubbed his temples tiredly. Deep dark circles ringed his eyes, and crumpled balls of paper lay scattered at his feet, already forming a large pile.
"I say, Mr. Yin, are you that eager to see my mother... the girl? If you want to date her, just call her directly. After all, her number is on the contract."
Rong Huo always felt that the sun was rising from the west. He had never seen Qin Yin care so much about any girl before. Maybe what he cared about were just... those beautiful hands?
