Ronan sat on a low stool without moving for quite a while. His body heat had nearly dried Jerry's slightly damp fur.
The interface in the projection area had remained unchanged for a long time. It felt like a handwritten letter had suddenly been torn open here, with its latter half stored somewhere else.
Sure enough, the binding requirements had appeared.
Sure enough, they had appeared here in the drawing software.
Yet they had been cut off at a crucial point.
Ronan was not about to fly into a rage. Things had come this far; was he afraid the contents would somehow fly away? He was only thinking about the deeper meaning behind the two binding requirements his Old Man had laid out.
The latter condition, one thousand valid works—the so-called "valid" was extremely vague. In fact, Ronan felt that it was more like a worried father making preparations to cover for a son who might not amount to much.
Probably, he had been worried Ronan would never meet the stricter clearance requirements, so he had simply made up for insufficient quality with quantity.
That meant the "self-portrait" condition was likely the true core.
But there were no clear qualitative or quantitative standards here either—what exactly counted as "satisfying oneself"?
Ronan continued rubbing Jerry's head.
He could imagine how furious and irritable the version of himself sitting here would have been if he had never encountered those extraordinary experiences, if he had merely been an ordinary teenager struggling to stay above the passing line, upon seeing such vague requirements.
He definitely would not have been like Ronan now, still having the energy to analyze the designer's thoughts and emotions behind these words.
Judging by the tone of the message, Luo Zhongheng should have been in a relatively stable period at