Holding the lyrics that the other person had written in less than two minutes, Chu Xingjun felt her brain momentarily short-circuit.
If it had been sheer nonsense or some generic, catchy pop junk, she wouldn't have felt this way at all.
The crucial point was that in just two minutes, he had written lyrics that would have taken her two days—or even two months—to produce. It made her feel somewhat overwhelmed.
Chapter 27