Fu Tingyu turned his head to look at the girl and said, "The song doesn't have a name."
Qin Shu was stunned. If the song did not have a name, didn't that mean that he was the one who had written the piece but didn't name it?
"Did you compose the piece yourself?"
Fu Tingyu made a soft sound of agreement.
After getting a positive answer, Qin Shu seemed to be able to hear a trace of undetectable sadness in that piece. Where had it come from?
"Could you not think of a name?"
"No." Fu Tingyu's voice was soft. He picked up the girl's hands with his long and slender fingers and lowered his eyes. He looked at the pair of hands before him. They were long and slender and were very suitable for playing the piano.
Qin Shu looked up at the handsome face in front of her. No matter how strong a person was, there would always be a soft spot in the depths of their heart.
