When Wei Qing opened the door and came in, Yan Chuyang was drawing on the sofa with a drawing board.
Hearing the sound of the door, the boy immediately turned his head and said anxiously: "I've put all the ingredients in the kitchen for you, and the dishes are washed, so it doesn't need to be too much trouble. Just stew some ribs for me and cook some beef."
Wei Qing hummed, and while changing his slippers, he glanced up at the drawing board next to the boy, and said displeasedly, "Why did you start drawing when you got home?"
Yan Chuyang smacked his lips and said helplessly, "There will be a very important international comic exhibition in June, and I want to participate."
Wei Qing walked to his side, looked at the obvious tiredness in the boy's eyes, and frowned: "Is the competition important? Do you need to draw so day and night?"
Yan Chuyang nodded fiercely: "It's very important! I heard that the one who gets the most votes from viewers in the comic exhibition will get a huge bonus, and may become famous in one battle, and successfully enter the most famous Ghibli manga studio in Japan to visit and study, go to Ghibli It has always been my dream to look at the comic studio."
Wei Qing snorted, he wasn't very interested in this thing, and he didn't know much about Yan Chuyang's enthusiasm, so he just said something casually
"Then go for it."
The boy hummed and clenched his fists, "I will work hard! You can cook." After speaking, he lowered his head again and began to concentrate on drawing.
Wei Qing stared at him for a while, and finally turned and went into the kitchen.
To be honest, when he took out the apron from the cupboard and wrapped it around his body, he really felt like a loving father preparing dinner for his son who was studying hard for the exam.
Wei Qing began to live independently since he was a child. When he was eight years old, his 250-year-old father handed him a bunch of keys and said with a playful smile, "Son, you have grown up. Staying at home all the time will affect my two-year relationship with your Uncle Zhuo." You are living in the world, so Dad bought you a new house, so you can live there.
It was from that time that Wei Qing understood that he was superfluous in that family.
Wei Qing has a strong temper, he resolutely rejected Wei Dongsheng's nanny, he firmly believed that he could survive.
Therefore, when other people's children have never even entered the kitchen, he can already simply cook some noodles to feed himself.
The man's movements were so familiar that he turned on the fire, put the casserole on the fire, put some olive oil on the bottom of the pot, and when the oil was smoking slightly, he poured the diced beef and the prepared spices into the pot with a thud Li, and then waved the spatula, the movements were methodical, and looked very elegant and comfortable.
When the beef changed color, I poured a few drops of sesame oil and stir-fried a few times, and the tangy fragrance spread in the kitchen.
When he came out of school, Yan Chuyang started to be hungry, smelled the smell of meat, and his empty movements started to gurgle even more.
He held his nose for a while, and finally couldn't help getting up from the sofa and going into the kitchen.
"Wei Qing, are you ready?" The boy leaned towards the pot with glowing eyes, swallowed and said, "I can smell meat."
"Don't come over." Wei Qing pushed him away, "Be careful of oil splashing on you."
Yan Chuyang stepped back two steps, looked at the man's familiar movements, and said itchyly: "You seem to be very good at cooking."
Wei Qing hummed: "I used to have no money to go to school, so I bought ingredients to cook by myself."
Yan Chuyang smacked his lips, sat up on the marble cabinet with one hand, and said casually, "You are still inspiring, I don't have money, I only think of buying instant noodles, and you cook for yourself."
"So." Wei Qing scooped a spoonful of salt into the pot and said quietly, "I'm taller than you now."
Yan Chuyang choked, took a bite of the tomato at hand and said sullenly, "You are older than me, so naturally you are taller than me."
Wei Qing snorted: "I was taller than you when I was your age."
Yan Chuyang snorted and did not speak.
Wei Qing turned around to get the ingredients, and when he saw the tomato in the boy's hand, he frowned and said, "It hasn't been washed yet, put it away!"
Yan Chuyang shrank his neck in fright from his sudden raised tone, put the bitten tomato back on the side plate with a groan, and said, "As for it? Why don't you just eat your tomato."
With a dark face, the man took two or three tomatoes from the plate. After turning on the tap and washing them several times, he put them on the cutting board and began to cut them. He was going to make soup with diced tomatoes as the base.
Seeing him wash it clean, Yan Chuyang raised his hand to take it again: "Give me the one I bitten, and you don't need it anymore."
Wei Qing raised the knife and looked at him: "Whoever said I don't need it, I bought three in total, and I will give you another one. Do you still want to make soup?"
As he said that, the man raised his hand and took the tomato with a row of tooth marks on the plate, cut off the biting piece, threw it into the trash can, cut the rest into cubes, and put it on the plate for later use.
Looking at a small piece of tomato thrown away in the trash can, Yan Chuyang murmured in distaste: "It's not dirty, why do you have to cut off what I've eaten and throw it away? Isn't that looking down on me?"
Wei Qing lifted the lid of the pot, threw the tomato into it, and said unabashedly: "Yes, I just look down on you, so don't sit here now, go back to the living room and wait."
Maybe because he was used to being suppressed by him, Yan Chuyang didn't feel too uncomfortable. Seeing Wei Qing scoop the soup from the pot with a small spoon, he immediately jumped down from the cabinet and went over to him: "Salty or not? I'll help you Try it."
Wei Qing shook his head: "No need."
"You're welcome." Yan Chuyang forced his way to him, grabbed the man's arm and tried to taste it. The soup looked bright and really tempting.
Wei Qing's face tightened, and he withdrew his hands in a panic, frowning and shouting: "It's still burning, get up!"
Before Yan Chuyang could react, he moved his mouth directly, but Wei Qing tilted his arm, and he didn't drink the soup, and directly engulfed the opponent's thumb.
Time was silent for two or three seconds.
The warm and moist touch clings to the surface of the skin, and the boy's overly soft lips are like feathers stirring up the restlessness in his heart.
Sensing the heat flowing down the index finger, Wei Qing twitched his brows, and pushed the boy away suddenly. Yan Chuyang was unexpected, and he pushed his footsteps backwards, and fell straight towards the hot pot. Soup pot and cup.
Wei Qing's pupils shrank, and he quickly grabbed the boy's waist and hugged him towards himself.