Zhang Bin was suddenly flustered. He and Liu Ruolan had been lovers for so long, and she had never cried before. Yet today, she was on the verge of tears?
He quickly said, "Honey, don't be angry. It's like this... I've been practicing calligraphy myself recently and I've improved a lot. So, my standards have gotten higher. That's why I felt your writing wasn't quite up to par, that it was subpar. It really has nothing to do with the reason you're thinking of."
"You've been practicing calligraphy? And you've improved a lot? I haven't seen you practice at all?" Liu Ruolan asked in surprise. The tears threatening to spill from her eyes stopped, mainly because she could feel that Zhang Bin's love for her hadn't changed.
Now that she was living in Sanchahe Village, she often went up to the villa in the mountains, mostly to help Liu Ruomei clean. But she had never found any ink, brushes, or paper in the study there, nor had she ever seen any of Zhang Bin's calligraphy or paintings.