Daniel was itching with curiosity. He really wanted to know what Maisie had written. He remembered that in the past, she used to be a quiet person, unlike other girls, who went on shopping sprees for no reason. She used to prefer to stay at home and write or draw.
Every poem she had written back then had carried his shadow, and every painting had depicted him. However, he hadn't cherished these gestures at the time. Perhaps when someone was held in the palm of one's hand for too long, they started taking their sincerity for granted.
"Well..." Daniel cleared his throat to feign nonchalance. "This investment proposal seems decent. Your company could actually expand further. An additional investment is not out of the question..."
Lily chuckled and turned her computer screen. On the display was the manuscript Maisie had sent.
"Dansie?" Daniel was momentarily puzzled.
"Yes." Lily nodded. "That's her pen name, and it combines both your names! How about that? Are you pleased?"
Daniel remained outwardly composed, but just as Lily had said, he was more than pleased—he was ecstatic.
He read the story seriously, scrutinizing every line and savoring every sentence. He could see Maisie's affection for him in every word, but the more she cared about him, the more he feared it.
He read for a long time and stood in front of the window in silence after finishing it.
"The writing isn't very mature," Lily admitted. "But sincerity is its strong point."
"Does this kind of writing meet the publishing criteria here?"
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