Rong Miao revised the music according to Nan Qiao's suggestions, humming as she worked, and then, she stopped in her tracks.
Rong Yan: "??"
Has she lost her mind?
Rong Yan: "Miaomiao, what's wrong with you? Why have you suddenly stopped talking?"
Rong Miao suddenly burst into laughter, overwhelmed with excitement.
"Brother, Sister Qiaoqiao is really amazing! The suggestions she sent me—after I revised the composition, it's totally different than before!"
Rong Yan: "You mean these are suggestions from Qiaoqiao? Didn't she say she would send them to a friend?"
Rong Miao: "Brother, your mind is so simple. We often say, 'I have a friend who has encountered some trouble.' It's not really about a friend—it's about ourselves. So, I guess, it wasn't Qiaoqiao's friend, but Qiaoqiao herself who knows composition!"
Rong Yan was full of question marks; how had he not noticed?