Chapter 15: Can the old man at the village entrance be as handsome as me?
Bright red blood flowed down Cong Chun's nose and onto his fair chin. Cong Chun subconsciously tried to tilt his head back, but Duan Mingxiao stopped him.
Duan Mingxiao quickly grabbed a few tissues from the coffee table beside the bed and used them to stop Cong Chun's bleeding.
"Don't tilt your head back, lean forward and look down."
Duan Mingxiao's voice had a casual tone, yet it gave people a natural sense of trust.
Don't be fooled by the fact that Young Master Duan is always surrounded by three or four bodyguards and seems to never lift a finger; he's always being waited on hand and foot by all sorts of people.
In fact, Duan Mingxiao is quite adept at handling these minor injuries that occur unexpectedly in life.
Racing is inherently a high-risk sport, causing participants to experience an involuntary surge of adrenaline, to the point that all they can see is the desire to win.
Duan Mingxiao always trained secretly, behind the backs of the Duan family.
He is capable of treating wounds that don't require a trip to the hospital.
Cong Chun's gaze involuntarily fell on Duan Mingxiao. The young master looked somewhat nervous, which felt familiar to him. His grandmother often looked at him with such a worried expression.
However, this time Cong Chun did not hear Duan Mingxiao's thoughts.
The next second, Duan Mingxiao's slender fingers pinched Cong Chun's nasal cartilage.
Breathe through your mouth.
Cong Chun instinctively tried to back away, but when he realized that Duan Mingxiao wasn't one of those people, he paused for a moment, then obediently did as he was told.
He opened his mouth and breathed in small gulps. As if noticing Duan Mingxiao's burning gaze on him, Cong Chun naturally shifted his gaze to the window.
When the weather is dry, Cong Chun's nasal mucosa is thin and she often gets nosebleeds.
However, the reason Cong Chun had a nosebleed this time was obviously because he had eaten too many persimmon cakes recently and was experiencing internal heat.
Duan Mingxiao released his grip, and the bleeding indeed stopped.
Cong Chun quickly stuffed the paper into his nasal cavity, leaving only a faint taste of blood in his throat.
Cong Chun looked somewhat disheveled, with slightly swollen eyelids, as if he had just woken up and his features were wrinkled and had not yet relaxed.
Duan Mingxiao, who was standing to the side, couldn't help but laugh out loud.
【Chun Chun looks even sillier now.】
Cong Chun looked up at him and asked, a hint of doubt in her eyes as she sat on the bed.
"Young Master, why...are we sleeping in the same bed?"
Duan Mingxiao instantly composed himself, recalling the foolish things he had done last night, a hint of guilt flashing in his eyes.
"You climbed into my bed in the middle of the night, half asleep."
"Hmph, you still have the nerve to ask me?"
Can't you give me some face? You found out and then had to say it?
Duan Mingxiao was in the wrong but still felt confident. However, Cong Chun remembered that the other party had helped him earlier, so she didn't press the matter further.
Although the young master said he climbed into the wrong bed in the middle of the night while he was half asleep, he clearly hadn't moved from his original position.
Perhaps the young master is afraid to sleep alone at night and needs someone to sleep with him?
When Cong Chun lived in the dormitory before, he often saw two boys sleeping together. They said that the weather was too cold and there was no heating in the dormitory in winter, so it would be warmer for the two of them to sleep together.
For some reason, Duan Mingxiao felt a kind of "cute aggression syndrome" kick in when he saw Cong Chun looking thoughtful with a few strands of hair sticking up on his head.
He stepped forward, pinched Cong Chun's cheek with two fingers, and asked.
"What are you daydreaming about?"
Cong Chun pouted as he was pinched, and explained indistinctly.
"Um...no. Young master, please let go of me first."
Cong Chun's eyes seemed to be veiled by a misty veil, and Duan Mingxiao, who was standing next to her, couldn't help but secretly raise the corners of his mouth.
Duan Mingxiao then pretended to be in a good mood and let go of her hand.
Cong Chun felt speechless and aggrieved.
"Young Master, are you sick?"
"Otherwise, how could it be exactly the same as when the old man at the entrance of our village had his illness?"
Once the old man at the village entrance falls ill, he runs around the whole village, muttering incoherently.
Duan Mingxiao's slightly upturned lips suddenly straightened, and his face stiffened.
Duan Mingxiao was so handsome, with extraordinary looks, bright eyes, outstanding demeanor, unparalleled good looks, and a dashing and romantic air; he was both talented and good-looking.
Cong Chun actually said he was the old man at the village entrance?
I should have stopped his nosebleed earlier; he was so pitiful with a nosebleed, I didn't have time to tease him here.
Inside the car, Cong Chun sat in the passenger seat; they were preparing to return to the Duan family home.
He was clutching the things Duan Mingxiao had bought the night before to his chest; there was still a large bag of food left, none of which he had finished eating.
Immediately afterwards, he sat down and began to carefully examine the old cell phone that Duan Mingxiao had given him.
At this moment, Cong Chun noticed a chat message box suddenly pop up at the top of his phone, and he was about to ask Duan Mingxiao, who was standing next to him, a question.
Unexpectedly, we arrived at the Duan family's residence.
Cong Chun had no choice but to put the matter aside for now. He got out of the car, took Duan Mingxiao's cane from the back seat, and handed it to him.
A moment later, Cong Chun, carrying some things, followed behind Duan Mingxiao.
Upon entering the hall, the atmosphere immediately became somewhat unusual.
Duan Chengshan, who is usually busy with work, appeared here. As soon as Duan Mingxiao entered, the man sitting in the superior position spoke in a low voice.
"I'm back."
Duan Mingxiao didn't even glance at him, only giving a nonchalant reply.
"What's wrong? If not, I'm going upstairs."
Duan Chengshan had a dignified expression, with many fine lines around his eyes. He exuded an air of nobility and extraordinary bearing, clearly coming from a respectable family. However, he had a rebellious and unruly son.
Duan Mingxiao felt that he and Duan Chengshan had nothing to say to each other. His father was the president of the Jinghai Chamber of Commerce, a position that everyone envied, and he was usually very busy with work.
If you include last night's meal, the two of them eat at the same table no more than ten times a year.
Duan Mingxiao didn't understand why, when they ignored him when he was a child, these condescending elders always interfered when he wanted to do what he liked as an adult.
Duan Chengshan's deep gaze fell on his son, who was already taller than him, and his tone was serious.
"You're not a child anymore, don't do things you can't handle the consequences of."
Duan Mingxiao, leaning on his cane, slowly turned around, staring at the man in front of him with a cold tone.
"What I do is none of your business."
"You don't even care about your own son's life or death, but you care if he broke a leg?"
Duan Chengshan lowered his eyes, his gaze deep and sharp.
"Of bad character, they have picked up bad habits and do not repent."
"If you're so capable of running in the sky, then see if I'll bother with you."
Duan Mingxiao chuckled, his narrow eyes slanting upwards.
"If you're so capable, why don't you get me a plane? Let's see if I dare to fly it. If you're not capable, then shut up."
Duan Chengshan was so choked up that he couldn't say a word for a while.
It seems that Duan Mingxiao is undefeated when it comes to roasting people, except in front of a certain boy who still has a tissue stuffed in his nose.
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