Huo Tianqi forced a smile at Song Yiyi and asked softly, "Is the selection over?"
Her eyes were evasive.
She obviously didn't want anyone to know that she had just cried.
Song Yiyi shook her head, as if she hadn't noticed. "Probably not. I came here to find you."
She did not choose to directly expose Cen Bowen's identity.
It’s not because of concern for Cen Bowen, but because of fear that Huo Tianqi will be embarrassed.
Song Yiyi pretended to know nothing.
She pulled Huo Tianqi and said casually, "Tianqi, your poems are so good, have you ever thought about submitting them to a newspaper?"
Huo Tianqi's literary talent may not be of much use in the art troupe.
In fact, what Cen Bowen said is correct.
Not appreciating something doesn’t mean it’s not allowed.
But you found the wrong place.
Huo Tianqi was stunned for a moment before he forced a smile and said, "I wrote this randomly. It's not presentable."
She recalled the look the judges had given her just now.
Huo Tianqi's heart sank.
Song Yiyi shook her head vigorously, "No, no, no, Tianqi, do you think anyone can write such a good poem?"
"That's when my dad gets home. If he were here, he'd definitely praise your poem to the heavens and even show it to the students in the class as an excellent example!"
"Tell you a secret, I almost made my dad cry when I was writing an essay before."
"He said he had never seen anyone write such a dry essay before, and that even a cracked heel couldn't produce such a result."
Huo Tianqi was finally amused by her.
After laughing, she took Song Yiyi's hand and said softly, "Yiyi, thank you."
She said it sincerely.
This time, it was Song Yiyi who was stunned for a moment, her eyes flashing.
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