After Nanyang finished washing the dishes, he was ready to go back to sleep.
When she returned to the house, she suddenly heard a strange movement from the next door. She has high martial arts skills and good hearing ability, so she can hear very clearly. Qing Huan is suppressing her humming, as if she is enduring intense pain.
She almost instinctively stepped over to Qinghuan's door, wanting to open it to see what was going on. But when his hand was about to touch the doorknob, he was stuck in the air again, and he wanted to touch it, but he didn't dare.
Does she want to go in by herself
Does she need her own attention
Qing Huan seemed to take a breath of cold air, and the voice in her throat was about to be suppressed. Nanyang was anxious and couldn't think too much, so he pressed the doorknob and opened the door.
Zhu Qinghuan was not on the bed, she was lying on the ground in embarrassment, her enchanting curly hair was against the floor and spread out like a cloud. She covered her stomach with one hand, her face was pale, her forehead was covered in sweat, and her neck was glowing with water.
Nanyang hurriedly squatted down and helped her up from the ground. Zhu Qinghuan was almost hallucinating in pain. She narrowed her eyes and looked at Nanyang who was close at hand, her lips trembling: "You..."
Nanyang helped Zhu Qinghuan to lie down on the bed. She frowned and bent down to probe Zhu Qinghuan's forehead with a serious face. When Nanyang bent down, her long black hair fell on Zhu Qinghuan's face. The hair was very soft, and a light sweep made her want to scratch the itchy skin.
"Gastroenteritis, fever." Nan Yangxi spit out these five words like gold.
Zhu Qinghuan was so dizzy with pain, she only knew that she had gastroenteritis 80% of the time, but she didn't expect to have a fever.
"I'll take you to the hospital."
Nanyang turned around and left, wanting to go back to his room to get the car keys.
"Don't..." Zhu Qinghuan stopped her weakly, "don't go to the hospital, I... will be photographed."
"Are you dying?" Nanyang frowned and looked at her. She rarely spoke to Zhu Qinghuan in such a serious tone, but even this sentence, which seemed to be very angry, was in a soft tone.
"No... I have a contract, so I can't make a secret before filming starts..." Zhu Qinghuan's voice trembled, "The news of my marriage to you has not been made public yet, and everyone in the circle knows about the relationship between me and the Mei family. , if you and I go to the hospital, tomorrow... tomorrow our unmarried pregnancy will hit the headlines... "
Nanyang has never felt that the profession of stardom is so troublesome.
"Then you can just lie down like this, okay?" Nanyang felt inappropriate.
"It's alright... You can pour me a glass of water, I have gastroenteritis, and I have medicine in the drawer." Zhu Qinghuan curled up in a ball on the bed, unable to open her eyes, she did not forget to remind: "Boiled water is fine, you don't need it. Put sugar or salt in it or something…”
That boiled cabbage may become a psychological shadow for her life.
Nanyang sighed and went downstairs to pour a glass of water. She found the medicine in the drawer and handed the water and medicine to Zhu Qinghuan.
Zhu Qinghuan struggled to get up, her head was dizzy and her eyes were blank. She stared at the swaying glass of water and coughed twice, trying to raise her hand but had no strength.
"Hello?" Nanyang asked her opinion.
Zhu Qinghuan raised her eyes and looked at Nanyang a little unhappily, as if she was dissatisfied with her overstepping. She was ill at this time, and there was a hot flush around her eyes. Although she made an unfriendly expression, she looked unusually charming.
'Qing Huan' practiced the aisle back then, so her appearance was always dyed with the coldness that is unique to a cultivator, covering up her originally glamorous facial features. 'Zhu Qinghuan' has never cultivated any Dao, and her every frown and frown made the enchanting features of this pair of facial features vividly displayed, like a goblin who brought disaster to the country and the people.
The looks of her and Nanyang are two extremes. One is as charming as flames, the other as cold as frost and snow. The inevitable result of frost and snow being close to the flame is that it is melted, evaporated to dryness, turned into water, and turned into the same degenerate color.
Nanyang endured for a long time before forcibly holding back the thought of wanting to kiss her.
"Open your mouth."
Nanyang raised the capsule.
Although Zhu Qinghuan looked like she wanted to refuse, but her eyes were so painful that she could not see clearly, so she could only submissively open her lips a little, and waited groggyly for feeding. Nanyang pushed the capsule into her mouth, and when she left, she couldn't help but gently rubbed her lower lip with her fingertips, which was moist and soft, with a scorching temperature.
Zhu Qinghuan felt the hidden ** in that short touch. She swallowed the pill dry, frowned, and warned Nanyang, "Don't kiss me."
Her original intention was to protect herself, but she said these words with a sick face, which only made Nanyang's indifferent eyes a little more turbid.
Nanyang was silent for a while. She suddenly stood up and walked out of the bedroom without saying a word, without helping to close the door.
Zhu Qinghuan looked in the direction where Nanyang disappeared. Is she angry? Zhu Qinghuan thought vaguely.
She didn't have the strength to think too much, and the surging illness made her drowsy. She sank herself into the soft quilt, closed her eyes and simmered sleepily.
I don't know how long she slept, and when she was half asleep, someone lightly patted her shoulder.
Zhu Qinghuan opened her eyes in confusion, and vaguely saw Nanyang standing beside her bed.
"I cooked a bowl of porridge for you." Nanyang held a white porcelain bowl in his hand and a small spoon in his right hand, "Get up and eat something, your stomach is empty and uncomfortable."
"You went to cook porridge..." Zhu Qinghuan rubbed her forehead.
Thought you were gone.
When the second half of the sentence appeared in his heart, Zhu Qinghuan didn't think anything was wrong, maybe he was really confused.
"Yeah." Nanyang nodded, "Eat a little, it will be more comfortable."
Zhu Qinghuan glanced at the white porridge, and her stomach growled. She was really hungry, she hadn't eaten all day, and the vomiting just now left her stomach empty. As for porridge, no matter how bad her cooking skills are, it won't be too bad to eat.
"Give it to me." Zhu Qinghuan sat up, dragging a body that didn't seem to belong to him.
Nanyang handed it over. Zhu Qinghuan took the bowl, scooped up a large spoonful and put it in his mouth.
When her tongue touched the spoonful of porridge, she almost exhausted all her life's etiquette before forcibly suppressing her body's urge to vomit to survive, instead of spraying the porridge on Nanyang's body.
Her brows finally wrinkled, "How the hell did you do it? What did you put in it?"
Nanyang looked at her forbearance expression, froze for a moment, and explained, "It's just a little sugar."
Impossible, a little sugar can't make such a disgusting greasy taste.
"Don't cook anymore," Zhu Qinghuan put the bowl on the table, her eyes were a little slack, and she corrected Nanyang a hobby that was not suitable for her development in a good-natured manner, "What you do is really unpalatable. ."
"Yes... Is there?" Nanyang stammered for a while.
"Or, are you deliberately taking revenge on me?" Zhu Qinghuan narrowed her eyes and looked at Nanyang with a scrutiny.
Nanyang shook his head.
Shake very sincerely.
Zhu Qinghuan touched her forehead, it was still too hot, but she couldn't help it, she was still very hungry. She resisted the discomfort and got up from the bed, pulled a blanket over her shoulders, then bent weakly, climbed into the slippers, and said softly to Nanyang in a hoarse voice:
"Come with me."
The kitchen should not have thought that it would be visited again in the middle of the night. The kitchen is even more unexpected, it will accommodate a scene that looks extremely strange.
A dying man stood in the front cooking with shaking hands, another healthy man stood in the back doing nothing with his hands behind his back.
Zhu Qinghuan stood weakly wrapped in a blanket in front of the stove, with a pale face, only a scorching blush at the end of his eyes. She was still covering her throbbing stomach with one hand, but she had to pick up the spoon with the other and stir the water in the porridge pot.
Nanyang just stood quietly behind her, staring silently at her beautifully permed curly hair.
She looked at her like this, as if back to more than 3,000 years ago, every time she looked at the back of Qing Huan cooking. Just looking at her, it was as if they were still in their Rongku Pavilion, she was still Nanyang who couldn't cook well, and she was still the Qinghuan who only cooked for Nanyang. It was as if they had just walked for a long time, without dying or separating, she was always there, waiting for her master to find her.
"Go get a piece of paper and write it down," Zhu Qinghuan's voice suddenly sounded, "the process, the materials used."
"it is good."
Nanyang came back to her senses, walked out of the kitchen and went to the upstairs bedroom to get a pen and paper. When she went upstairs, she used light work to complete a round trip as quickly as possible.
The water in the pot was already boiled, Zhu Qinghuan found the rice bowl and reached in to grab the rice.
She had already grasped the amount of food she was eating, and when she was about to take her hand out of the rice jar, she moved. She lowered her head and couldn't see the expression on her face, but after a moment, the hand reached down again and grabbed the weight of the two people.
Nanyang has returned, holding a pen and a notebook. Zhu Qinghuan put the rice into the porridge pot, pointed to the pot and said to her: "The ratio of rice to water is about 1:8. If you want to make it thinner, 1:10 is almost the same, and it will become soup if it is thinner. If you use glutinous rice, or mung beans or something, you have to soak it in advance and cook it, the taste will be much better. In fact, the white porridge is very fragrant without any seasoning. .No matter what seasoning, it will be hard to eat if you put too much."
Saying that, Zhu Qinghuan gave up a little space, "Come on, put some sugar, I'll see how you put the sugar."
She was really curious about how Nanyang was placed.
Nanyang put down the half-written notebook, walked obediently to the sugar bowl, picked up the spoon in his right hand and scooped a spoonful of sugar. Her hands were shaking, and they were shaking badly, when they were raised over the porridge pot. With a shake of his hand, all the sugar in the spoon was poured out.
Zhu Qinghuan hurriedly reached out and blocked it, keeping most of the candy out.
Well, now she knows why Nanyang's cooking skills are so devilish. The hands are shaking like this, the ingredients will never be placed well, how can the rice be delicious.
Nanyang lowered his eyes and said softly, "I'm sorry."
Seeing that she was actually apologizing, Zhu Qinghuan couldn't help but hook her lips: "What are you apologizing for? You have been served since you were a child. It's normal for a big boss like you to be unable to do this."
Nanyang is not a big boss, her status is much more honorable than a "big boss". Born to be the lord, and later served directly as the head of the sect, she was worshipped wherever she went, and was held in the hands of others, these chores were indeed not her turn to do. Usually, when she needs to eat or go to bed, Qing Huan is there to serve her.
Therefore, since Qing Huan left, she has never taken good care of herself.
Nanyang looked at Zhu Qinghuan who was stirring the porridge pot and asked softly, "Have you always been so good at cooking?"
"Yes, I've been very good at cooking since I was a child, and it's all delicious," Zhu Qinghuan's voice was a little smug, "but I'm lazy, so sometimes I'd rather be hungry than be lazy to make it. feed yourself."
"Your gastrointestinal problems should be related to the fact that you always skip breakfast."
"Possibly. But that's what it's like to be an artist. You're so busy filming, who can take care of eating when you're really busy? Besides, eating this kind of carbohydrates will make you gain weight."
Nanyang hummed and said, "But breakfast is best."
Zhu Qinghuan chuckled lightly: "Why are you like my mother?"
Nanyang closed his mouth and did not speak.
"Okay, it's cooked," Zhu Qinghuan closed the blanket and said to Nanyang, "Bring two bowls."
"… two?"
Nanyang was stunned.
"Otherwise? Take three?" Zhu Qinghuan tilted her head to look at her, "Do you want to eat two bowls by yourself?"
Nanyang's ears were a little red, and he didn't answer. He just took out two bowls from the cupboard, rinsed them again in the sink, and handed them to Qing Huan.
Looking at Qing Huansheng's porridge, she thought to herself, it's not impossible to eat two bowls.
The fragrant white porridge was served in a porcelain-white bowl, steaming hot with a tempting mist. Zhu Qinghuan walked to the restaurant with two bowls of porridge. Nanyang wanted to help her, but she ducked and didn't ask Nanyang to take it.
Two people are sitting at the dining table, the living room is dark all around, only the dining room has a light overhead, making it look like another independent world. Zhu Qinghuan was eating the porridge made by himself, except that the sugar just dropped a little more, but it was generally delicious.
"Why do you put sugar in everything?" Zhu Qinghuan took a mouthful of porridge and asked vaguely, "I want to put cabbage and porridge."
After Nanyang swallowed the porridge in his mouth, he replied, "I like sweet food."
"Yeah, the first time I saw you, you were eating candied haws, and you ate several..." Zhu Qinghuan's voice was soft and soft, "eat less carbs, you are thirty-five years old, If you eat like this, you will be prone to diabetes. If you really like sugar so much, you can try chocolate, that kind of pure cocoa butter, it tastes delicious, and when you are sad, you will feel better.
"Okay, I remember."
Nanyang nodded seriously.
Zhu Qinghuan held a spoon and secretly raised his eyes to glance at Nanyang opposite.
Before coming to the kitchen, Nanyang tied up her hair in a hurry. The hair on the temples was loosely hanging on the side of her face, looking very demure and elegant. She was still wearing a pure white shirt. She seemed to only wear white all the time. The button of the shirt was tightly buttoned one by one, revealing a strong sense of abstinence.
Actually... she's pretty good too. He is indifferent to outsiders, and is gentle and accommodating to himself alone. He is also beautiful and does not look old. Apart from poor cooking skills, I can't pick out any flaws.
It's just a pity, how long can it be maintained like this
When I was in high school, there was a girl who treated her like this. She will send good morning and good night on time every day, and she will use her pink kettle to help herself make a pot of hot water in the morning, and she will quietly stuff a lot of lollipops into her desk pocket, and she will say to herself every day : I wish you well, I love you. Although she didn't have that kind of feeling for that girl, she was still moved by how good she was to her. She yearned for the "like" she said in her mouth. If one person likes another person, he is willing to do anything for her. , which sounds really tempting.
But even a person who likes himself so much will fall in love with someone else overnight. One day, she suddenly found herself and said, I wish you a beautiful transfer student from the next class, I decided to like her, please give me back my water bottle.
So she returned the pink water bottle to her, and walked away together with her trust in "like".
She has always been reluctant to fall in love, especially with a rich person like Nanyang, because she doesn't want to see such beautiful things as "like" being ruined. From childhood to adulthood, rich children have always loved to spoil things. When they like something, they treat it like a treasure, and if they don't like it, they throw it away like garbage, because they have more retreats, more and better choices.
Liking is the most unreliable thing in the world.
No one loves another person forever.
Nanyang ate the porridge and said warmly, "I'll make you breakfast tomorrow. You can't skip breakfast. You don't have to worry, I've learned it all. I cook rice and water together, and I won't put any seasonings in it."
Zhu Qinghuan regained her sanity, and her gentle tone slightly restrained: "I won't eat it."
"I'll make it tomorrow and put it on the dining table, so I won't disturb your sleep." Nanyang pursed his porridge-stained upper lip.
I wish Qinghuan noncommittal.
Nanyang ate the last bit of porridge in the bowl and said softly, "Thank you for teaching me how to make porridge."
Zhu Qinghuan smiled, looked at the porridge in his spoon, and asked casually, "Why do you always want to cook for me?"
Nanyang stopped when he took the spoon.
The ups and downs of chewing on the cheeks also ceased.
Her fingers on the handle of the spoon were turning white.
Zhu Qinghuan didn't hear Nanyang's answer and didn't care, she just asked casually. She ate all the porridge left in the bowl, thinking seriously about whether to wash the dishes right away or leave it for tomorrow. Just when she was distracted, a word suddenly came softly in her ear:
"I'm just… doing what I should have done a long time ago."