In order to let myself ignore the breath that hit her back shoulder.
All Mo Bei could do was to look at the TV in front of him and try not to think about it.
But the presence of a certain great god is indeed very strong.
Even when you are close, you can still smell the menthol tobacco aroma that is different from your own.
If Cat, Cat, Panda and the others are okay at this time, at least they can divert their attention.
But there are only two of them in the base.
The others probably haven't come back yet.
Mo Bei turned his face sideways in order not to let Feng Nai see anything.
This time is probably one of the benefits of facial paralysis.
There is really no expression.
On the other hand, when Mo Bei was standing like this, because of his cold and indifferent temperament, coupled with the white T-shirt he was wearing, he always had the feeling of a bandit son standing like jade.
Feng Nai also finds it interesting sometimes, Lin Keng Keng, this little brother, except when he plays games like a modern person, other times, he really looks like the boy in white clothes in ancient times.
Even the smell on his body is not like other boys.
Probably because the shampoo smells so good.
When Feng Nai raised his hand to spray the medicine, he would get closer.
Mo Bei moved subconsciously, and the top of his head touched the tip of his nose, a light touch.
From Mo Bei's point of view, he couldn't notice it at all.
But it was this kind of contact that made Feng Nai's hand pause.
Feng Nai lowered his eyes, looking at the person in front of him, the color of his eyes seemed to have changed a bit.
Mo Bei realized his pause and wanted to turn around.
But the man held down his left shoulder, and said in a very casual voice, "My assistant brother, why are you moving around? You met me."
Mo Bei heard the slight ridicule there, and returned to his original position.
Feng Nai looked at that Qingjun's side face, and then began to raise his hand, and sprayed a layer of medicine on the back of the opponent's shoulder, but said: "It doesn't seem to be relieved, the bruise has not turned black, don't let me do it again today I saw you make up your practice."
"I haven't done the task of upgrading the new account yet." Mo Bei's voice remained the same.
She was talking about the routine training of every professional player.
Use the new number to match passers-by, no matter what role you play, you must lead the audience and score.
Dividing into high-end, middle-end and low-end rounds is to train more adaptability, so as to be able to deal with various situations that occur during the game, and to analyze what happens in a calm manner, and win with experience.
Feng Nai snorted: "After you're done, you won't have to play tomorrow, don't you want your hands?"
This time, Mo Bei didn't insist: "Got it."
The injury was indeed more serious than she thought.
A day off will also help the game.
But in Feng Nai's view, that bruise was still an eyesore.
After spraying the medicine this time, it wasn't Mo Bei who pulled the collar, but Feng Nai who pulled it back, but when his fingers were going up, they touched Mo Bei's neck, stopped for a moment, and then retracted his hand.
When Mo Bei was touched, his thoughts paused, worrying that he might notice something.
The man's hand landed on the side of her neck again, as if he had found some interesting toy, he poked there with his fingertips, with a very light force, and the voice could not hear anything: "Are you all over the body?" so?"
Mo Bei only felt that the distance between the two of them was too close, so he turned sideways to avoid his movement: "What is it like?"
"Slippery." After Feng Nai said a word, he copied his hand into his trouser pocket again, still looking casual.
(end of this chapter)