If you didn't know Fang Hua's personality, you'd probably think this was a gesture to ask for a breakup.

Fang Rong kicked him, "Don't you know anything about romance? Who gives a kitchen knife as a birthday gift? I'd be happy even if you just helped me chop it for a bit."

"Then let me cut it for you for a bit." It's impossible for Fang Hua to be romantic; what he cherishes, Fang Rong may not necessarily value.

He likes sweet things, like honey cakes. What if I get him a beehive? Wouldn't that be a waste of effort? He can get honey whenever he wants, but he's afraid he won't be able to find a beehive.

However, there are many beehives in the forest because there are many flowers and plants; there is one every so often along the way, so they are easy to find.

"You should probably give up." This is a delicate job; most people can't do it.

“Yes, I’ll push, and Fang Rong will steer.” Fang Hua hugged him from behind, his fingers covering Fang Rong’s hands, trying to do as he said: he pushes, and Fang Rong steers.

Hiss~

Fang Rong gasped, her left hand, which was pressing on the medicinal herbs, suddenly ached, and she had already broken her breath.

(▼皿▼#), "Look, this is what happens when you act recklessly."

Is this even playable?

Playing with it would be disastrous. Fang Rong put her hand in her mouth, covering the bleeding spot, and told Fang Hua not to cut it either, in case he cut off his hand too.

"Idiot, heal me now." When he took his hand out, there was no blood left on his fingertips, but it started seeping out again a moment later.

Fang Hua grasped his wrist and gently blew on it. A cool breath blew over, and the hand healed quickly. However, even though the nerves in his body had healed, he still remembered the pain. It wasn't particularly painful, but it was a throbbing, intermittent reminder that he was in pain, a pain that couldn't be ignored.

"Forget it, I won't cut it today." He was exhausted and just wanted to sleep.

Because of the rush, the large number of people, and the difficulty in cutting this thing, Fang Rong had been cutting for almost a day, and her entire arm was sore.

He also considered using his superpowers to cut it open, but after a while he was covered in sweat, which was even more tiring than doing it himself.

After all, using superpowers requires effort. One or two times is fine, but more than that will lead to exhaustion.

Fang Rong put down the kitchen knife, lay down on the bed, and soon fell asleep, leaving the kitchen knife on the table beside him.

Despite her complaints, she reluctantly accepted the gift from Fang Hua, thinking it was better than nothing.

He had just lain down when a dark shadow suddenly loomed over his head. Fang Hua sat on the edge of the bed, massaging his arm with practiced ease, as if he had done it countless times before.

Grasp his wrist and press upwards repeatedly. I guess it's because I'm often with him; he was usually there when Baza taught, so I was able to learn a move or two from him.

Fang Rong let out a satisfied hum, which emboldened Fang Hua even more. He pressed from her arm down to her shoulder, then from her shoulder down to her back, and finally pressed directly into her buttocks.

"What are you doing?" Fang Rong stopped him.

"I'll give you a massage."

"I'm not well-educated, so don't try to fool me. Do you think a massage requires sticking your hands inside?" (‵□′)

"Hmm." Fang Hua nodded. "I know you're not well-educated and not very smart, but you can pretend to be smart by drinking soy milk."

(▼皿▼#), is this a joke? Right? Right?

Taking a joke so seriously, are you trying to die?