But when she was washing, she couldn't help but glance at the gray suit jacket on the hanger. It was still stained with blood from last night, and the dark red bloodstains were particularly glaring on the gray fabric.
Finally, she softened her heart, sighed softly, and told the maid beside her, "Ask the kitchen to make a bowl of Astragalus and pigeon soup, and add a few light side dishes, and send it to the young marshal." There was a hint of helplessness and concern in her tone.
Soon, the kitchen had prepared the food. Uncle Chen was about to go out with the food box when Zheng Wanqing suddenly stopped him.
The old cook was slightly startled when he heard the call, and his wrinkled face was full of surprise. He turned around with his back hunched, and his gray eyebrows almost flew into the brim of his hat. When he saw that it was Zheng Wanqing, he hurriedly bowed respectfully: "Young Madam."
Zheng Wanqing walked forward and said softly, "Uncle Chen, please give me the lunch box." After a pause, she added, "I'll take it. You can go do your thing."
Uncle Chen nodded slightly, an understanding smile on his face, and then handed the lunch box to her.
In front of the closed mahogany door of the military office, Zheng Wanqing adjusted her temples and raised her hand to knock on the door.
Xie Yun's low "Come in" was heard from inside, his voice carrying a hint of fatigue, but he didn't even raise his head.
When Zheng Wanqing pushed the door open, she saw Xie Yun wearing a military jacket, buried in his work, with documents piled on his desk. His injured arm was hanging stiffly, his left hand holding the pen in an awkward position, and his hair hanging down in front of his forehead, casting a shadow on his brow.
It was not until Zheng Wanqing walked beside him and the familiar scent of jasmine lingered at his nose that he came to his senses as if awakened from a dream.
"Madam?" Xie Yun looked up, and the sharpness in his eyes instantly turned into surprise.
Zheng Wanqing put the lunch box down heavily and said, "Come and see if one of the wounded has fainted in the pile of documents." There was some anger in her tone, but she could not hide her concern.
Xie Yun put down the pen in his hand, a gentle smile appeared on his face, and he pulled her to sit on the side of his thigh, and said affectionately: "Thank you, Madam, for your concern."
Zheng Wanqing snorted and reached out to stroke the new stubble on his chin. The gray marks made her fingertips itch. She pretended to be angry and said, "It's useless for me to care. You don't care about your own body."
"How can it be useless? Madam's concern is more important to me than anything else." As he said this, he leaned forward slightly and pretended to kiss her.
Zheng Wanqing quickly raised her hand to cover his mouth, tilted her head back slightly, and said coquettishly: "Zha..." Before she finished her words, her palm suddenly touched something warm and soft. This man actually kissed her palm!
The stubble pricked her so much that she hastily retracted her hand, but he took the opportunity to peck the corner of her lip.
"I'll shave it when I get home." He smiled like a cat stealing some fish, but he sat still obediently under her glare.
"Let's eat first. Look at what time it is now." Zheng Wanqing blushed slightly, broke free from his arms, raised her wrist to show him her watch, and the hour hand quietly pointed to one.
When the clock struck one, Xie Yun showed a look of surprise: "It's already this hour?"
Zheng Wanqing opened the food box, and immediately, the aroma of pigeon soup spread out, and the rich fragrance instantly filled the whole room. Xie Yun watched Zheng Wanqing's movements, and he was so happy that he seemed to have forgotten the pain. A big movement affected the wound, and he couldn't help but groan.
Zheng Wanqing's face changed and she immediately went forward to check his bandaged wound. Seeing that there was no bleeding, she breathed a sigh of relief.
She took the spoon from his hand and said, "How come the young marshal has become stupider after being injured?" As she spoke, she scooped up a spoonful of soup, put it to her lips and blew gently. The warm breath, with the aroma of the soup, slowly passed it to Xie Yun's mouth: "Open your mouth."
Xie Yun drank the soup from her hand, but his eyes were glued to her face: "Lust makes you lose your mind..."
Zheng Wanqing's face suddenly turned redder, and she spat softly, "You are so frivolous."
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