Fu Wenzhou's heart melted.
If Youyou asked him for his life right now, he would probably give it to her without hesitation.
But Song Qingyou didn't want his life; she just wanted to eat the food he cooked.
Fu Wenzhou smiled broadly: "Then I'll go cook."
He got up to leave, but Song Qingyou still held onto his hand, resting her forehead on his arm, and said somewhat dejectedly, "Forget it, I don't want to eat anymore."
Fu Wenzhou subconsciously pinched his leg.
Is it because I woke up in the middle of the night and didn't sleep well? Yoyo looks so soft and I want to bully her today.
He suppressed the lewd thoughts in his mind, raised his hand and gently rubbed her head. Even though he was rubbing her head, he felt as if he had been stroked and comfortably squinted his eyes.
The voice was so soft it was almost a whisper: "Honey, I'll cook you a bowl of noodles to fill your stomach."
Heaven knows how difficult it is to get her to say she's hungry. She used to be like a cat, only eating a little bit at a time, and she was always just a little bit chubby. Fu Wenzhou dreamed of fattening her up.
Song Qingyou was indeed hungry, so she followed him to the kitchen.
Fu Wenzhou turned around and saw her following him, his heart softened: "You can just wait in the living room."
"Let's see." Song Qingyou was feeling sleepy, but she was really hungry and couldn't fall asleep. Sitting alone was also boring, so she suddenly wanted to keep him company.
Fu Wenzhou then had her sit on the chair at the kitchen island, skillfully take off her apron and tie it around her body, take out ingredients from the refrigerator, and turn to get busy.
Behind him, Song Qingyou's gaze lingered on his waist, which was bound by an apron.
Suddenly, some of Yan Miao's words popped into my mind: "A man who doesn't wear a shirt but only an apron, showing off his well-defined and sexy muscles, not too muscular, cooking under dim lighting, will be especially sexy."
Song Qingyou nodded almost imperceptibly.
I wholeheartedly agree.
Actually, you don't need to take off your clothes to be sexy.
She rested her chin on her hand, a slight smile unconsciously playing on her lips, watching the man cooking methodically. A strange yet overwhelming emotion welled up inside her.
A feeling of fullness filled my chest, carrying a hint of sweetness and a sense of ease.
This is probably what happiness feels like.
She only had this feeling in her memories from when she was very young. Or rather, she never had it at all; the happiness she imagined was just a feeling she had created when she was young and naive.
All of those were too ethereal; only the person standing before her at this very moment was truly real.
Fu Wenzhou turned around and met her gaze.
My heart skipped a beat, and the noodles I had scooped out of my hand fell back into the pot with a thud.
Song Qingyou sat up. "What's wrong?"
Fu Wenzhou's mouth and tongue were a little dry, and his hands moved like a puppet on strings.
Why is Yoyo looking at him like that?
He couldn't help but turn his head to look again, and Song Qingyou was still looking at him with her chin resting on her hand, her eyes filled with a gentle smile.
He remembered that his mother had looked at his father with that same gaze many years ago.
At that time, everyone said that his mother must have loved his father very much.
Fu Wenzhou calmly placed the cooked noodles in front of her, noticing that her eyes followed his every move.
She was looking at him as he reached out and handed her a pair of chopsticks.
He brought her a glass of warm water, and she was still looking at him.
Fu Wenzhou couldn't help but curl the corners of his lips into a smile.
Then the curve of his eyes widened, and his eyes grew brighter.
"Youyou, why are you looking at me like that, hmm?"
He leaned down and looked down at her.
Song Qingyou said, "I think you're pretty."
Fu Wenzhou's eyes crinkled slightly: "What's so beautiful about it?"
If Youyou says he's handsome in every way, then he will...
Before he could even finish his thought, he heard Song Qingyou say, "It looks good everywhere."
Fu Wenzhou stood up straight, strode upstairs, and plunged headfirst into the bathroom.
He had never been so embarrassed in his life.
Downstairs, watching Fu Wenzhou's rapidly departing figure, Song Qingyou took a long time to react.
She looked away from the noodles on the table, smiled, and picked up her chopsticks.
——
Early in the morning, Yun Nian had just returned from outside, directing two bodyguards to unload the large and small bags from the car, her face beaming with joy.
Seeing Fu Wenzhou come out, he was in a good mood and greeted him warmly: "Fu Wenzhou."
Fu Wenzhou glanced at him and responded in a very good-natured manner.
Both of them were in good spirits and temporarily put aside their personal grudges.
Song Qingyou came out to see Fu Wenzhou off and found this scene quite rare.
After Fu Wenzhou drove away, Yun Nian greeted Song Qingyou and then walked towards her small courtyard. After a few steps, she found Song Qingyou following behind her.
He asked curiously, "Sister Youyou, is there something you need?"
"Let's go inside and talk," Song Qingyou said.
After the two bodyguards put the herbs Yun Nian had collected into the yard, they left. Yun Nian then took a plate and arranged the herbs one by one to dry.
Song Qingyou watched from the side, not quite understanding: "Tell me what medicine you want, and I'll have someone go and get it for you. It's too hard for you to pick vegetables yourself."
"You don't understand the joy of gathering herbs." Yun Nian smiled knowingly, the young man trying to look mature, which was quite amusing.
Song Qingyou pulled up a chair and sat down to keep him company.
"Yun Nian, what happens after I finish taking the medicine at the end of the month? How long will I need to recuperate? Tell me honestly, can my current health be cured? If it is cured, how long can I live?"
Yun Nian put down the medicine in her hand, walked over and said, "Hold out your hand."
Song Qingyou reached out her hand, placed it on her pulse, pondered for a long time, her expression unchanged.
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