Lin Miao had never been someone who could keep a lot to herself. After a bit of hesitation, she could no longer resist asking the Young Master: “Gege, has anyone written a love letter to you?”
Meanwhile, the Young Master had just stepped out of his shower and was drying his hair with a towel. Reading the message, his hand with the towel paused on top of his head. It wasn’t because of the content of the message, but rather the reason why Lin Miao was asking him this.
No one bothered to do anything as complicated as writing letters to him. It was mostly messaging him, or confessing to him in person.