"Hmm? What's going on?"
Sun Jian's hand was already outstretched, so why was there nothing there now?
He glanced at the items in Yang Lin's and Chen Feng's hands, then at Wu Ya, who was looking down at the lyrics, and finally at his own empty palm.
This... did I forget something?
Sun Jian, his brow furrowed in confusion, turned to look at Chu Tian. Chu Tian, acting as if he hadn't seen a thing, smiled and said, "Oh, by the way, Sun Jian, how's your songwriting going?"
"Ah? I..."
Sun Jian almost blurted out a curse.
Just as he was about to speak, he suddenly remembered a scene from a few days ago.
What was it again? Looking down on those singers who could only sing but not create? Or claiming he could write a smash hit?
His mouth twitched; he suddenly felt the urge to slap himself.
Aren't I just fond of showing off, of bragging? Which grown man doesn't enjoy that a bit? But the problem is, why did someone actually take me seriously?
