Whether There Was Such a Life (1)

Luo Qiu had never learned to write with a brush, and Maid Miss had naturally never learned to grind an inkstick either. However, Maid Miss wrote in a very beautiful calligraphic hand.

Although he had never learned, once Luo Qiu picked up the brush and casually wrote a few characters on the white paper, he gradually got the feel for it. This almost dimensional leap in ability would probably infuriate the so-called calligraphy masters—though it was merely one of the club owner's small abilities.

Of course, given Boss Luo's personality, he would not show off to anyone that he could now write beautiful calligraphy. The reason he had brought up the brush was merely to add another stroke to the unfinished story of the young Miko.

"Strong, optimistic, cheerful, hmm..." Boss Luo held his brush over the blank space in the book where the young Miko's story had been written, but for a moment, he did not immediately put it to paper.

Actually, this story should ultimately have been completed by the young Miko herself. Luo Qiu felt that even if he wrote it himself, it would always feel like adding a sable's tail to a dog's body. Creating such imagination and the story in one's heart was already beyond the scope of ability.

But this was, after all, a transaction. Whatever the customer bought, the club would sell.

"Actually, I was terrible at composition when I was in school. I often went off topic." Boss Luo suddenly smiled. "Especially in high school. The final essay topic was particularly fond of argumentative essays, and I was even worse at those."

You Ye was startled, unsure why her master had suddenly brought this up.

Boss Luo merely smiled, then moved the brush in his hand and finally began writing on the