"When did you get your idea of me?" Zhi Cheng looked up and down at Chu Qin, who was blowing the breeze with his head raised and kicking his legs. The strands of hair on his forehead were being blown by the breeze. He stretched out his hand to pull Zhi Cheng up, and Zhi Cheng smiled and held his hand. When he first sat down, Chu Qin came close to his ear and whispered, "I'm teaching you how to sketch." Zhi Cheng was stunned for a few seconds, and then there was a smile on his lips and eyes...
Self-cooked (Zhicheng) × Slow-cooked (Chuqin)
Intention: learning