Zong Wangyue forcefully rubbed his flat top head, his face full of chubby flesh, and said to you, "Hehe, Old Shu, um... well... tsk, I..."
"Oh, come on! Zongzi, can you get to the point already? I'm getting anxious just listening over here." Xiao Feng teased from the side.
Zong Wangyue shot Xiao Feng a look and continued to smile at you, "Old Shu, I know you're a wordsmith. Can you, hehe, help me write a love letter?"
Your short modern poem in "Full Essay Score" was published in the school's monthly newspaper edited by the student literary club, thanks to the Chinese teacher, Wang Posuo, two weeks ago.
For you personally, it wasn't even a tiny hiccup; you still ate and slept, slept and ate every day. However, quite a few teenage girls at school had started to take a quiet interest in you.
Just imagine, a tall and handsome guy, 1.8 meters high, with a well-built physique and a roguish smirk on his face—who wouldn't have a crush on him?
