Wei Ci's eyes curved with a smile. Under the bright light of the snow scene outside the window, the tiny hairs on her face, where no pores could be seen, were glowing, and sweet dimples appeared on her lips.
Gu Zhan, who was silently acting as an invisible man, looked at her intently. Seeing her smile, he unconsciously raised the corners of his mouth. The invisible coldness in his heart instantly dissipated, and his whole body softened.
"Don't worry, second brother, Ayang is fine."
Wei Qingfeng twitched his lips. It was good, but a little indecent and a little crazy.
"I'm going to give a curtain of dumplings to my great-uncle later. Do you want to come with me?"
Wei Ci thought of the serious old man and shook her head.
She had met the old man several times and felt that he didn't seem to like her. Every time he saw her, his attitude was very cold. Once, after she greeted him, he pretended not to see her and walked away.
While he was still struggling, his head was patted gently, and a complex look flashed in Wei Qingfeng's eyes that Wei Ci could not understand.
"My great-uncle is actually a very nice person. Don't mind his attitude. Over time, he will realize that our Ah Ci is actually a kind-hearted girl."
Wei Ci murmured a little, wondering if she had ever offended her great-uncle before.
Why did he need to know that she was a kind-hearted person before he would change his mind about her? Did the original owner do something infuriating to him in the past?
Wei Qingfeng was silent. He couldn't say it was because of his parents. He was afraid that Ah Ci would be sad again if he told her.
Wei Qingshan followed the team leader to the county to deliver the fish. The three people who stayed at home were busy all afternoon, making four or five hundred dumplings, which they directly rinsed and froze in the yard.
In the evening, heavy snow began to fall from the sky again.
Wei Qingfeng, wearing a military coat and a dog-skin hat, braved the heavy snow to deliver the other fifty dumplings to the largest courtyard in the village. As soon as he entered the door, he saw the old man hiding something secretly.
"Goudan? Why are you here?"
The old man who was blind in one eye put his hands behind his back guiltily, and quickly stuffed the things into the big vat when he turned around to close the door. Seeing the curtain in Wei Qingfeng's hand, he pulled Wei Qingfeng into the room. Hot air hit his face, and he could faintly smell a very faint smell of alcohol.
Wei Qingfeng sniffed and looked at the guilty old man with a half-smile: "Grandpa Dazhu, do you smell any alcohol?"
Wei Dazhu looked up and down but didn't look at Wei Qingfeng. Annoyed by being stared at, he just snorted coldly and turned away.
He just drinks, so what? He's old and half buried in the ground, and this is his hobby, so why can't we satisfy him? He earns every drink now.
Wei Qingfeng had no choice but to follow him into the inner room. He put the dumplings down and smiled when he saw the table filled with all kinds of food. It seemed that he was not the first one and someone had come earlier.
The people living here are all disabled veterans of the War of Resistance Against Japanese Aggression. They have no relatives at home, so they just live together.
Although the old men are missing limbs, they are in better spirits than some young men. They usually rely on the small private plot in the yard for food and drink, where they grow some vegetables and raise some chickens and ducks. They are stubborn and refuse to accept anything given to them for free by the villagers.
In their words, it would be foolish to give food away when their own family can barely afford to eat.
They are old, not dead. Even if they don’t have hands, they still have feet. Even if they don’t have legs, they still have arms. Can they starve themselves to death?
The people in the village had no choice but to help out in small ways within their ability during normal times. Only during the Chinese New Year and other festivals would every household send them some food, clothing and other daily necessities, making it impossible for them to refuse.
"You kids don't need to bring anything here since your parents are not here. Take it away quickly."
As Wei Dazhu spoke, he opened the kang cabinet, took out two jars of yellow peaches and handed them to Wei Qingfeng.
"Take it back and give it to Ah Ci. The little girl is not in good health and needs to be taken good care of. Don't mind the old man's attitude. He is just old and narrow-minded."
These canned yellow peaches are nutritious and sweet. The little girl will definitely like them.
Wei Qingfeng laughed and glanced at an old man who was old but narrow-minded. He just saw his ears twitch, and he snorted and turned around, pretending not to hear Wei Dazhu's sarcasm.
Thinking of something, the smile on Wei Qingfeng's face slowly disappeared, and pain flashed in his eyes.
Wei Dazhu noticed his expression, paused his movements, sighed secretly, and glared at the old man who was looking for trouble with dissatisfaction. It was all because of him who was trying to punish the old man collectively, making it difficult for him and his sister to feel comfortable.
"A-choo! A-choo!"
Wei Ci sneezed several times in a row and rubbed her nose in confusion, not knowing who was talking about her again.
A bowl of milk powder with a sweet milky smell was placed in front of her. Wei Ci looked up and met Gu Zhan's dark green eyes. Her heart skipped a beat and her face immediately became hot.
"Drink something first to fill your stomach. Qingshan should be back soon. I'll make you something delicious then."
Wei Ci pursed her lips, stretched out her tender white hands to hold the porcelain bowl, took a small sip, and squinted her eyes at the rich sweet milk flavor.
Wei Ci didn't notice it at first, but when someone's increasingly passionate gaze made her feel uneasy, she realized something was wrong. She quietly raised her head to glance at the man opposite her who had a strong presence. As expected, she met his deep and focused eyes, and her heart skipped a beat.
"What's wrong?" Wei Ci realized that she was stuttering for no reason and bit her lip in annoyance. She cursed herself for being useless. She didn't feel anything when she saw the general's male courtesan, so why did she become more and more uncontrollable in front of this man?
A slender finger with distinct joints and thin calluses came over. Before Wei Ci could react, her lips were rubbed a few times. As the intimacy value in her mind increased madly by +1, Wei Ci's little face turned red again.
"You..." Gu Zhan was startled by his own hoarse voice. He quickly retracted his hand, clenched his fist and coughed lightly. From an angle where Wei Ci couldn't see, the tip of his ear was red and bleeding.
"Ahem... there's milk foam on your lips."
Wei Ci even forgot about the handkerchief in her pocket. She just lowered her head and wiped her mouth in panic with a red face. Her fair and tender face was left with red marks from the rubbing of her sleeves.
Gu Zhan's sexy Adam's apple rolled up and down, and he suddenly felt that the room was too hot.
"I'm going to go out and see if your brother has come back." After saying that, he fled.
[Ding! Congratulations to the bound party for reaching an intimacy value of over 10,000. A random treasure chest has been distributed. Please keep up the good work and look forward to the next one.]
Wei Ci paused, her brows slightly furrowed, and her still beating heart slowly calmed down as the man left.
What was this thing that kept talking in her head?
Where did the treasure chest come from?
Why does intimacy only occur between physical contact and Gu Zhan?
Countless question marks made Wei Ci's already messy thoughts even more chaotic. She wanted to ask her mother, but they had been separated by a thousand years. She wanted to ask Uncle Tong who sent the gift, but she couldn't find it. Wei Ci sighed, returned to her room, locked the door, and flashed into the space.
Soaking in the hot spring, her long hair fluttered with the ripples, and the pattern under her delicate collarbone became more and more obvious.
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