He felt the touch under his hands, and he knew that this was the back of a young man. This man was extremely handsome and hearty, and his smile was very charming. He had never been in such close contact with any man, not even Xie Lun.
His heart was in a mess, as if grass had grown. He didn't know when his throat started to feel itchy, and it became increasingly dry and uncomfortable. This discomfort made him feel tormented.
He swallowed hard, only to feel that his throat hurt even more. He suddenly became irritable. The strength in his hands suddenly became much stronger, and then he heard Lu Zhicheng cry out comfortably: "Okay. It's so comfortable! You can use it harder! Oh, it feels so good! It's so comfortable..."
Zhou Chi's face suddenly turned red, his hands were frozen in the air, and he couldn't let go anymore. Lu Zhicheng was urging him again. When he was getting anxious, he heard the guard's voice coming from outside: "General, dinner is ready."
Zhou Chi breathed a sigh of relief and got down from the soft couch in a hurry, walking to the basin stand to wash his hands while recovering from his chaotic thoughts.
"It's just the right time," Lu Zhicheng muttered dissatisfiedly, while taking out his middle coat and putting it on, he said to the outside, "Send it in."
"Yes." The guard was so busy that he came in through the curtain and placed a pot on the small table. Three more guards brought a plate of small noodles, assorted vegetables, tofu, and dipping sauces and placed them on the small table. He bowed and retreated.
"Zhou Chi, come here quickly? It's so hard to wash your hands," Lu Zhicheng urged Zhou Chi with chopsticks in his hands, "Come on, come on!"
Zhou Chi actually didn't have the slightest intention to eat right now, but he couldn't go out just like that. He wiped his hands slowly and felt that his face was no longer so hot. Then he put down the handkerchief and returned to the soft couch to sit down. He got off, looked at the decorations on the small table, and knew that he wanted to eat a pot. He felt better now, sat down on the soft couch, and asked: "What kind of pot? Mutton?"
"Mutton is fat. Your injury hasn't healed yet. How can you eat mutton?" Lu Zhicheng said as he opened the lid. The hot steam hit his face and the aroma was overflowing. Lu Zhicheng put down the pot lid with a proud look on his face. , "This is an authentic Wenchang chicken. Originally, salt-baked chicken is best, but when I remembered that there was a pot in the kitchen, I became a little greedy for pots. I thought you wouldn't be able to eat pots easily in southern Xinjiang, so I Just ask someone to blunt the chicken. If you try it, you won’t know whether Wenchang chicken tastes good in a pot."
Zhou Chi was used to eating spicy pots in southern Xinjiang, but he hadn't eaten this kind of white soup pots for several years. Just smelling the smell made his index finger move. He first filled up half a bowl of chicken soup and drank it in one go, not to mention too much. Beautiful, she wiped her sweat and said to Lu Zhicheng: "It's really nice for you to have a bowl of soup too."
Lu Zhicheng also drank half a bowl of soup, and suddenly he was sweating all over his face, but he also felt comfortable all over. The two of them were eating chicken and rinsing vegetables at the same time. There were many kinds of mushrooms in southern Xinjiang, and there were many kinds of mushrooms in the kitchen for the two of them. More than ten kinds of mushrooms were prepared. Lu Zhicheng, a northerner who had just arrived, almost didn't recognize them. Naturally, he had to ask Zhou Chi, a half-native who had been in southern Xinjiang for twenty years, for advice.
"What's this called?" Lu Zhicheng asked Zhou Chi, pointing to a plate of mushrooms, "Why do they look so strange? They look like a small umbrella."
While chewing on the chicken legs, Zhou Chi told Lu Zhicheng, "This is bamboo fungus. It lives on dead bamboo. It's the most delicious soup."