Upon seeing this, Zhang Ye also felt it was meaningless. There was no need to say anything more. He had already expressed himself using his work. Furthermore, it was a live broadcast, with many listeners listening into it. It was not good for him to say so much, as it was easy to make a mistake with too many words. It would make himself seem agitated. Although anyone could tell that those words were Zhang Ye’s way of fighting back, what he said was without fault. He had admitted to being an amateur and had asked for advice as a newcomer. No one could speak ill of that. Hence, he passed the microphone back to the host and prepared to go offstage.
Zhang Huo was actually quite warm-hearted, “Teacher Zhang, although we are in the second poetry appreciation segment, it is still part of the Mid-Autumn Poetry Meet. Your poem will definitely be voted upon by netizens. Do you want to canvass for votes for yourself?”