Wen Renpan didn't understand art, but he thought Landa's paintings were beautiful. The brushstrokes and tones had a gentleness that could penetrate into the bone marrow. It's a pity that when he really interacted with Landa, he couldn't touch these soft feelings of love at all.
It was as if the two of them had never truly been in love from beginning to end.
[The copywriter is incompetent—just put it like this for now]
Considering rewriting(eh)
Intention: