Qiao Fengtian has very few fevers, even if he feels uncomfortable, whether he has a fever or a headache, he just needs to sleep with his head down.
He tried it on the back of his hand and didn't feel it was too hot.
"Send you directly to the outpatient clinic?"
"I'm not going." Qiao Fengtian waved his hand and put his head on the chair pillow, "I'll just go home and boil a pot of water to drink."
"Is there no medicine at home?"
Qiao Fengtian pondered for a while, but opened his mouth and said vaguely, "I don't remember... I seem to have it? In the bedside table, no... Forget it, I'll go back and find it."
Zheng Siqi glanced at him, turned the steering wheel to the right, "follow me upstairs."
Qiao Fengtian entered Zheng Siqi's house for the first time. The community is neither new nor small, but the greening is relatively good. The trees are dense and shadowy. There are two columns of clear magnolia trees on the main road.
Zheng Siqi went to touch the key in his pocket, raised his hand and lifted Zheng Yu, who was holding him horizontally in his arms. Seeing Zheng Yu's head tilting and sliding down Zheng Siqi's arm, Qiao Fengtian dragged it with his palm, stabilized, lowered his eyes and gently twisted the lock of hair stuck to her mouth.
Zheng Siqi inserted the key into the keyhole, glanced at Zheng Yu, looked at him again, and smiled.
Zheng Siqi hugged Zheng Yu and changed the slippers, then took out a new pair from the closet, "Change this, it should be a bit big. You should sit first." Turning around, he threw Zheng Yu's small bag on the sofa and sent her back. the bedroom.
Qiao Fengtian lowered his head to change his shoes, pressed his nose, inhaled and exhaled, and felt that the nasal cavity was salty and wet, so he quickly stood up and held his breath, and turned around to find the paper on the coffee table. "Shuh, huh," he sighed in relief after he snorted two balls under the tip of his nose. Seeing that the sofa was beside his legs, he paused for two seconds before sitting down.
Zheng Siqi's house is located in the middle, quiet and warm. The top pick is quite high, and it is enough to separate a second floor space. The wall is painted with paint, not like wallpaper, it is a mild light khaki color with a slight beige beige. Bookshelves, tables and chairs, cups and trays, electrical appliances, all perform their duties, and their positions are kept clean and tidy. A wall of blackboards for Zheng Yu to scribble and scribble on the other side adds a human touch to it.
You can't go wrong with a big place. Compared with his own small broken house, there are less details that have been carefully crafted, and more are indeed calm and unhurried.
Qiao Fengtian threw the tissue into the trash can, looked up at the white and clean ceiling of Zheng Siqi's house, and listened to a pendulum clock hanging on the dining table, ticking over and over again.
Suddenly, my ear felt itchy, as if a foreign body had come in.
"What..." Qiao Fengtian consciously shrank back, dusting with his hand.
"Don't act blindly, you will be deaf if you miss it. Do you have medical insurance?" Zheng Siqi chuckled softly, and his movements softened in response. He supported the coffee table with his palm, one leg rested on the sofa, and hunched over, "Ear thermometer, let me measure it for you."
Qiao Fengtian didn't move. He felt that Zheng Siqi's face was getting close, and the smell on his clothes could be faintly smelled again, and he didn't dare to retreat, "...It's really advanced, I've never seen this thing before."
"It's dozens of dollars more expensive than mercury, and it's fast and accurate." Take it out and take a look, "37 degrees 5, it's burnt."
"Tsk."
Under the lantern, Qiao Fengtian's face flushed red as if swept away by a layer of rouge. He rubbed his arms, feeling the discomfort of skeletal muscle aches and pains, and the airflow between his breaths was also very dry and hot. I remembered the last time I had a high fever, the day I was picked up from the clear pool. The high fever persisted for two days, and the temperature was approaching forty-one.
Therefore, it is very annoying to have a fever. Although it is not painful, it can make you restless and sleepless.
Zheng Siqi put a small paper bag in Qiao Fengtian's hand, and then brought him a glass of boiled water, "Hey, ibuprofen, are you not allergic to this?"
"It's all right."
Zheng Siqi raised his hand up, "Don't be alright, allergies can be big or small, rashes are alright, but if you want to stop breathing, it will be troublesome."
"Really, I really don't have allergies." How could he stop breathing after taking a fever-reducing medicine.
"One slice is enough."
"OK, thank you."
Zheng Siqi turned around to put the ear thermometer, but just as he was about to turn around, he stopped. He looked down at Qiao Fengtian who was sitting upright on the sofa.
"What's wrong?"
"Don't sit so straight when you're dizzy." Zheng Siqi touched his tensed shoulders, "Let's rest for a while. Shall I get you a pillow?"
"Don't, don't, don't." Qiao Fengtian slackened a little bit of energy on his waist according to his words, "I usually do this all the time, I'm used to it."
Zheng Siqi paused for a moment, "I also really want to cultivate the habit of cultivating jujube, like a little poplar wherever I go."
Spirit and good-looking.
Qiao Fengtian put his hand on his forehead and closed his eyes, "I typed this for my grandmother since I was a child. When I picked up the bamboo chopsticks and bamboo brooms, I greeted my body, whistling with the wind, without letting me bow my head or not. Let me slump my shoulders and hit me if I'm wrong. You really can't bear to touch Zao'er with a single finger, right?"
Saying that wherever you go, you have to be in good spirits and be upright and upright. Even if life is not good, you must not hunched over your spine, can't show it, and can't let others see a joke.
A very cynical set of remarks about tutoring, but Qiao Fengtian unexpectedly listened to it and did it all the time.
Zheng Siqi didn't speak, he took the small quilt on the sofa and put it on Qiao Fengtian's lap. The pink quilt is printed with peach blossoms.
"You can do whatever you want at home, you don't have to be tense." Zheng Siqi turned around and walked to the kitchen, "I'll cook you some ginger with brown sugar, do you want to eat ginger?"
"Hey, don't bother!"
Zheng Siqi turned his back and waved to him, "Sit honestly. I didn't tell you to drink alone. I and Zao'er will share some for you. The little girl was sweating madly in the afternoon, and I was afraid she would catch a cold."
Qiao Fengtian stood up against the quilt, "Want... do you want me to help?"
Listening to Zheng Yu complaining every sentence, his father has always been indistinguishable from grains.
"Need not."
Zheng Siqi said it with great certainty. After a while, he turned his head hesitantly and asked, "Just... just put ginger and brown sugar in a pot and boil it with water, right?"
"..." Qiao Fengtian licked his mouth, "You fire, I'll give you a distance."
The kitchen of Zheng Siqi's house is semi-open, the stove is in the living room, and the functional area is divided by a maple bar table. Qiao Fengtian just sat on the sofa and didn't move, and he could see Zheng Siqi's back wandering by the stove.
Qiao Fengtian's low-grade fever caused his eyes to swell with fatigue, and he couldn't sleep, so he could only stare at one place.
He changed into a fitted turquoise sweater with a round neck, a slim fit and tall sleeves. A very ordinary style, but it especially highlights his outstanding upper body contour. He walked back and forth beside the stove under a ceiling-mounted yellow lamp with a round cover, and his mature but not capable temperament pervaded, and it was easy to remind people of that popular lyrics.
Coming from mountains, rivers, lakes and seas, but confined to the kitchen and love day and night.
"Rinse the ginger first."
"En." Zheng Siqi wrapped the washed ginger with a kitchen towel and wiped off the water stains on the skin.
"Is Zao'er afraid of eating ginger?" Qiao Fengtian asked.
"I don't want to see you. When I saw Jiang at the table, I walked away with chopsticks in my hands." Zheng Siqi added half a pot of water to a snow pan.
"Then don't break it up." Qiao Fengtian sucked his nose, "Cut the shreds, just a small half."
"Okay..." It should have no confidence.
Qiao Fengtian narrowed his eyes and listened to the sound of the blade hitting the chopping board. There is no rhythm at all, no regularity at all, "da" for a long time, "da" for a long time, sometimes there is no movement for a long time, and after a while, there is a loud "click".
It doesn't sound like the sound of cutting vegetables.
Qiao Fengtian was suspicious, took the thin quilt, stepped on the slippers that were too large, and walked to the kitchen, holding his hands on the bar and reaching out to the chopping board.
"Mr. Zheng... do you want french fries?"
"I..." Glancing at the little-finger-thick ginger slivers lying scattered on the chopping board.
"You don't take a kitchen knife like that."
Qiao Fengtian walked over to pick up the handle of the knife, and gently stroked the blade with his fingers, "The knife is pretty good, but I can't use it."
Zheng Siqi took a step to the left, "Please enlighten me."
"The palm can't be fully grasped on the handle, and the center of gravity must be forward." Qiao Fengtian handed the back of the knife forward and let Zheng Siqi cover it himself, "Try to let the tiger's mouth stick to the two-thirds of the knife's body."
Qiao Fengtian lowered his eyes and moved Zheng Siqi's warm thumb gently, "The thumb is attached to the front, the index finger and the middle finger are relaxed and placed on the north side. The remaining two fingers are hooked on the handle of the knife... Yes, apply some force and hold it firmly. "
Qiao Fengtian's hands were still cold, and there was an indistinct nasal tone in his words.
He couldn't help blowing his nose again and let out a cute "suck". Zheng Siqi's gaze couldn't help falling on him, moving up from his scarred fingertips, looking at his reddened cheeks, at his drooping eyelashes, like two short black tassels attached to it.
"That hand is pressing on the thing to be cut, don't hang it on the side, move it forward, then move it forward." Qiao Fengtian looked up at Zheng Siqi's profile, "Don't be afraid when cutting something, don't shrink, just want to Going forward, the more you shrink, the more likely you are to get hurt."
"it is good."
When I "played" with the knife again, I undoubtedly learned a lot. Although it is not as easy as holding the pen in the palm of my hand, at least I don't want to be so awkward at the beginning, feeling that neither hand is my own.
For the effect of the finished product, Qiao Fengtian still took over the power of the sword halfway. He neatly lifted the sharp knife up and down to cut the old ginger into thin and even thin slices, rubbed the slice horizontally, flattened it slightly under the palm of his hand, lowered the tip of the knife, raised his wrist and raised the end of the knife, and cut from right to left. It's nothing but ginger shreds with the thickness of noodles.
When the ginger soup boiled, Zheng Siqi poured the juice into a clean porcelain bowl, and put the remaining half into a thermal insulation bucket to warm it slowly. When did Zao'er wake up, and when did she coax her into feeding her mouth by mouth.
Qiao Fengtian was standing on Zheng Siqi's side by the stuffed bookshelf, looking left and right. Just as he keeps the flower stand very clean, Zheng Siqi's bookshelf is equally tidy. Domestic and foreign, modern and modern, all are carefully sorted into different categories, as if there is a set of index orders compiled by themselves.
The first row that the eyes can see directly is a type of modern and contemporary novels. The works of many famous artists, including Wang Xiaobo, Yu Hua, Ge Fei, Wang Anyi, Chi Zijian, Bai Xianyong, etc., are included in it. Some Qiao Fengtian had read it, some he had heard of, and some he had never seen. I don't know where I heard a sentence, which is easy to understand, saying: There are all kinds of difficulties in the world.
Qiao Fengtian didn't dare to touch it casually, he knew that some people were addicted to books. He also didn't know whether to believe it or not. The answers to these thousands of situations and troubles could be found in one book.
"Here, be careful."
"Hey." Qiao Fengtian hurriedly took it, "Thank you."
After blowing, taking a sip, feeling the sweetness of sugar, Qiao Fengtian quickly frowned.
"Don't eat sweets?"
Qiao Fengtian looked up at him.
"I only added a little, or I'll give you another bowl."
"No, no, no." Qiao Fengtian hurriedly took a sip from the bowl, "It's alright. I'll drink this, I'll drink this."
Zheng Siqi looked at him and smiled, "Sometimes I think you are indeed approaching 30, and sometimes I think... You are really only eighteen years old."
Qiao Fengtian stared at him without speaking. The light in the living room is warm yellow, making people appear hazy, illusory, with furry edges.