Upon hearing these words, Zhuo Ming's ears perked up.
Zhou Wenhong, who wouldn't budge even with invitations, actually agreed to write a song voluntarily. Lin Tian is really lucky, isn't he?
No matter how he sings, a song written by Zhou Wenhong is a guarantee of quality; it's bound to be a hit.
For a moment, Zhuo Ming was so envious, he wanted to agree on Lin Tian's behalf.
Unexpectedly, after taking a sip of wine, Lin Tian chuckled, "Ms. Zhou, you know my singing hasn't received any professional training. If you let me sing, it might ruin your reputation."
"Why are you panting when you've been flattered? I've seen your performance on stage, and if I say you can sing, then you can sing."
Watching Lin Tian and Zhou Wenhong interact casually like old friends, Zhuo Ming was overwhelmed with envy. How did he manage to hold onto such a big connection?
