"Big Sister, do you think I nailed it?" Sang Ning looked eagerly at Big Sister, her eyes brimming with a plea for approval.
She had sung two lines that perfectly rhymed, filled with uplifting positivity—she truly felt like a genius!
[I suddenly have a terrifying thought. Could it be that Sang Ning has no idea how awful her singing really is?]
[It's entirely possible! Just look at her—she clearly thinks she's got this and is waiting for compliments.]
[Big Sister: These words of praise are burning my tongue; I can't spit them out—what should I do?]
Big Sister's expression twitched even harder. It wasn't that Sang Ning didn't nail the rhymes; it's just that her singing was unbearably bad.
In their village, even a random rooster could crow better than this girl sang.
"Big Sister, you're not saying anything. Does that mean you're not satisfied? Should I belt out another couple of lines for you?"
