"I'd like to see your writing."
"Sure."
Xu Lin picked up the other person's pen and began writing on a new blank page in the notebook.
The first piece he wrote was "Langtaoshan Beidaihe."
Next was "Nian Nu Jiao·Kunlun."
Actually, with the latter poem, Xu Lin mainly liked the first half.
"It emerged amazingly, the mighty Kunlun, viewing all the worldly spring colors; the jade dragon flying up three million..."
These lines could truly be described as grand and magnificent.
Poetry is something that requires careful appreciation and must be enjoyed quietly without disturbances.
Quickly, Xu Lin finished writing.
"Xu Lin, your handwriting looks better than before!"
Beside him, Shang Wanjun watched Xu Lin write, her gaze revealing amazement.
Xu Lin's writing had become more bold and sharp, possessing considerable momentum. Before, Shang Wanjun had seen Xu Lin's writing, but it wasn't like this; compared to before, Xu Lin's writing now retained only a slight outline of the past.
