The man in front of him was outstanding. He turned to Song Yiyi and curled his lips, "Burn."

Song Yiyi: “…”

He burns so diligently.

She walked over and raised her hand to touch Cen Yue's forehead.

He touched his forehead with a look of suspicion.

"The fever doesn't seem to be gone. Do you have a headache?"

Song Yiyi raised her eyes.

When she met Cen Yue's narrow and deep black eyes, a hint of grievance flashed in them.

Cen Yue nodded, "It hurts."

After saying that, he put his forehead against Song Yiyi's forehead.

The distance suddenly shortened.

Those eyes as deep as a cold pool stared at her without blinking.

Song Yiyi's teeth were about to break.

She quickly distanced herself, "I'm not burning, don't lie to me."

Cen Yue raised his eyebrows slightly, his tone lazy and casual: "Go wash your hands, then come and help me."

Strips of beef were placed on clean winnowing baskets and dried on a high rack in the yard.

After seeing this, Da Zhuang, who was always lazy, followed Cen Yue around and circled around him.

It meowed a few times.

It turns out the owner ignored it.

So he climbed up by clinging to Cen Yue's clothes, drooling over the fresh meat.

Cen Yue glanced at it lightly, his brows cold, and said, "Go down."

Song Yiyi watched the fight with her arms folded.

She thought Dazhuang would hold on for a while, but as soon as Cen Yue spoke, he jumped down immediately.

"Yiyi, please stay home and watch over me. This is beef jerky with chili peppers that I made for you."

Cen Yue looked amused, "Da Zhuang...can't eat it either."