Holy shit—
Annan's heart exploded with shock as she stared at her as if she were a monster, "You're not joking, right? Miss, I checked the time. From when you entered until you came out, you spent a total of twenty-six minutes. And now you're telling me you've finished writing a song? Are you serious?"
Yuran placed the musical score on the coffee table and nodded seriously, "Really, see what you think?"
Annan felt her whole body stiffen; it wasn't just her intelligence that had been assaulted, even common sense was about to be redefined.
When some original songwriters talk about how long they spent writing a song during interviews, complaining about the agonizing process and even losing hair, should she ever believe them again?
With a skeptical view on life, Annan lowered her eyelids and reached out to pick up the thin piece of paper in front of her. She didn't understand much about writing music, but she could understand and hum the melody of the song.