"It's up to you. However many poems you want me to write, that's how many I'll write," Ye Tian said with a smile.
While other people would hoard good poems and keep them hidden, waiting for a grand occasion to amaze the world, it was entirely different for him. With tens of thousands of poems in his memory, let alone ten a month, he could easily write a hundred a month for at least fifty years without stopping.
Therefore, he didn't need to worry about running out of poetry. Whenever the timing was right, he would simply bring them out. If he didn't show off now, was he supposed to wait until his next transmigration?
Chapter 97