"Why do you want copies of my handwriting?" Xie Heng asked as he raised his eyebrows.
Zhao Chuchu fluttered her eyelashes and said playfully, "You are not mediocre. You will one day go far. Your handwriting will become treasures coveted by the masses. When that happens, even a thousand gold coins cannot purchase one. Now, when you have yet to become famous, it is not too much to ask for a few copies, right?"
"It is not too much to ask, but I want something in exchange."
"What do you want?"
"I will let you know later after I think about it."
"Can't I buy them from you?"
"I will not sell my handwriting. However, if you do things that please me, I will write something for you. How about it?"
Zhao Chuchu felt that Xie Heng had some plan in mind.
However, she had no proof.
"Alright," she replied.
Zhao Chuchu put down the book and looked at the books on the shelves.