Fu Liqing said proudly: "The handwriting is good, and the calligraphy is even better."
Zhao Mingya nodded repeatedly: "Yes! With this book, he has become famous all over the world!"
This is the second time she used the word "famous throughout the world", which shows her evaluation of this word and this book.
Fu Liqing said: "It seems that you think highly of him."
Zhao Mingya nodded. "It's not just me. I've heard many people commenting on it these days. Just based on this book, he's sure to have a place in the future literary world. Countless people want to invite him to banquets. Even my mother wants to invite him to the Marquis' Mansion. What's more, his calligraphy is unique. I can't imagine anyone with such talent. If they saw the manuscript, they would definitely be shocked."
Fu Liqing smiled without saying anything. If I told you that the author was only 16 years old, you would probably be scared to death.
Zhao Mingya frowned slightly when she saw the signature under the book title. "Lanling Xiaoxiaosheng, isn't that his real name? What's his real name?"
"Zhao Lin."
"What?"
Zhao Mingya's voice suddenly rose.
"Zhao Lin, what's wrong?" Fu Liqing asked puzzledly.
"It's nothing, it's just the same name as a distant relative of mine," Zhao Mingya said. "But come to think of it, it can't be the same person. My relative is uneducated, has never been to school, and can barely recognize a single word. How could he have written such a good book?"
Fu Liqing nodded: "That's right. If there really were such people, you would have discovered them long ago."
Zhao Mingya pretended to ask casually, "How old is the author?"
"16 years old." Fu Liqing said.
Zhao Mingya was stunned.
If having the same name is a coincidence, is having the same name and being the same age also a coincidence?
As smart as she is, how could she not have thought that she would meet Zhao Lin here? Zhao Lin was not hanging out in brothels or gambling houses, but came to Qingfeng Bookstore to sell books.
But how is this possible?
This book could be written by Zhao Chenhan or anyone else, but it definitely could not be written by him, Zhao Lin.
"No! It's definitely not him!" Zhao Mingya swore. "His handwriting is terrible. How could he write such beautiful words?"
Fu Liqing asked curiously, "Who?"
"No, no one."
Zhao Mingya didn't want to read any more. After chatting with Fu Liqing for a few words, she got up and hurried home.
"Mother, the book Jin Ping Mei might have been written by Zhao Lin."
"What? He actually wrote a book like this?"
Han Yuehua threw the book in her hand onto the table with a bang, and flew into a rage: "At such a young age, he actually wrote such an obscene book. This rebellious son is hopeless!"
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