He raised his eyelids and glanced at Song Yiyi, his whole body filled with a powerful aura that made people tremble.
Song Yiyi blinked slowly and muttered, "Aren't we... already married?"
She really didn't understand why Cen Yue was so obsessed with holding a banquet.
Song Yiyi probably knew a little bit that people of this generation attached more importance to banquets than marriage certificates.
In some places, people even believe that holding a wedding banquet means getting married.
These words sounded strange coming out of Cen Yue's mouth, and for some reason she thought of something wrong.
She licked her lips and spoke carefully, "Commander, you want to hold a banquet so much, is it simply to piss off your old man, or is it because of me?"
Song Yiyi sometimes felt that Cen Yue was strange.
According to the description in the book, he should be the helper of the male and female protagonists.
Even if the direction of things has changed now, Song Yiyi will not be narcissistic and think that it is all her credit.
She would occasionally wonder why Cen Yue looked at her in such a strange way.
Song Yiyi can tell the difference between lust and deep affection.
But she also knew clearly that there was no trace of Cen Yue in the original owner's memory.
Song Yiyi suddenly remembered something, stood up from the stool, and took three or two steps to stand beside Cen Yue.
"Commander, where were you when my brother was on home leave five days ago?"
Song Yiyi stared at Cen Yue without blinking, waiting for him to answer her question.
One second.
Two seconds.
Cen Yue didn't say anything, one hand still resting on the edge of the table.
He lowered his eyes and looked very strange.
Song Yiyi thought he was guilty and was about to continue asking when she suddenly realized that Cen Yue's face was too pale.
Beads of sweat soon appeared on his forehead.
"Chief...?"
Song Yiyi finally noticed that something was wrong with him, "What's wrong with you?"
Cen Yue covered his stomach with one hand and spoke slowly: "It's okay."
Those two short words seemed to have exhausted all his strength.
Song Yiyi frowned, turned around to look at the empty bowl, and guessed, "Could it be that you can't eat spicy food and your stomach can't take it?"
The large pot of boiled water she prepared on the table was almost drunk up by Cen Yue alone.
Song Yiyi hurried to support him, "Let's go to the clinic!"
It's too difficult.
Usually the courtyard is full of people, but today for some reason, Song Yiyi supported Cen Yue and walked all the way without meeting anyone.
Cen Yue was too tall, and perhaps because of stomachache, he had no strength, so most of his weight was on Song Yiyi.
Song Yiyi was speechless.
She thought about leaving Cen Yue behind and asking the guard at the gate for help, but by the time she reached the gate, the clinic was already closed.
She also wanted to ask the neighbors for help, but Cen Yue wouldn't let her.
"I'm fine, don't disturb them."
Cen Yue is quite aloof.
Song Yiyi could only grit her teeth and persevere.
The sweat on Cen Yue's forehead kept dripping down, and occasionally he couldn't help but let out a few muffled groans.
Song Yiyi felt like a mountain was pressing down on her.
He was getting heavier.
"Cen Yue, Cen Yue? Can you listen to me?"
Cen Yue didn't answer.
"You can't handle spicy food, why didn't you tell me? I also like the three-fresh hotpot, why not just switch it up?"
She walked with difficulty and wanted to cry.
What a sin.
Others who traveled into books all met rich and domineering bosses.
She was so unlucky. The only thing that made Cen Yue similar to the domineering CEO was his stomach discomfort.
The next moment.
The weight on my body suddenly became much lighter.
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