Crazy host sweet temptation, cold licking the main god and acting coquettish

"Why are you still here?" He almost blurted out, "Where's Auntie? Didn't she come?"

Si Mo shrugged and said frankly, "I asked her to leave. Zou Shen, you already have me, why do you need an aunt? Do you think my cooking is not delicious?"

The boy's originally cheerful eyes turned gloomy, and Zou Yanzhi was so stunned that the words he was about to say got stuck in his throat.

Why did the phrase "You already have me" sound so strange? Or was he overthinking it?

"I didn't mean that." Zou Yanzhi frowned, "Didn't you say you'd stay for one night and leave the next morning?"

Could it be that the editor was still relying on him? Was he trying to play hard to get and then give in?

Zou Yanzhi thought so, but he didn't expect that his words would come true. He heard Si Mo say, "God Zou, it's a little late for you to say this now."

"You know there's a Chinese saying that goes, 'It's easy to invite a god, but hard to send him away.' I've already slept with you, so how can you get rid of me so easily?"

Zou Yanzhi: "Who sleeps with you..."

His voice stopped abruptly, and before the other party could hear clearly, his face darkened and he slipped into the bathroom.

Si Mo looked at the figure that was almost fleeing in panic, and slowly raised the corners of his mouth in an evil way...

The chef god's skill only lasts for one month, so of course he has to make a profit to justify the two hundred years of cultivation.

Si Mo planned to take down Zou Yanzhi within this month, after which he could become a hands-off boss... and ask him to learn how to cook and serve him every day!

The imagination was beautiful, but the reality was that Zou Yanzhi came out of the bathroom a short while later, and the boy regained his harmless expression:

"Master Zou, I don't know how to use your coffee machine. It's still new, right? How about you come over and help me—"

"No, then don't drink it." After a pause, Zou Yanzhi raised his eyes: "No need to bother."

"That won't work. I need to keep my mind clear in the morning, otherwise I'll feel groggy all day."

In the end, Si Mo still pulled the person over. Zou Yanzhi didn't know whether he did it on purpose or not, but he always inadvertently created some physical contact that people couldn't avoid.

The scent of shower gel on Si Mo's body almost made him dizzy. It was strange, as he had been using it for so long, but the smell was not so obvious.

"Instructions." Zou Yanzhi turned his head and suddenly saw something, then picked out the piece of paper standing in the corner.

“…Oh, then Master Zou, do you want some sugar?” I should have stuffed it a little deeper earlier!

"Ah."

There were two plates facing each other on the table, with exquisitely presented sandwiches on them, and hot coffee and milk next to them.

After breakfast, Zou Yanzhi sat on a chair and selected a book. The sudden appearance of another person in the house was still very conspicuous, even though Si Mo did not make any big moves, but just sat beside him obediently, calling him from time to time and saying some irrelevant nonsense.

He endured it again and again, but finally couldn't help but looked up and asked: "You have been staying here all the time, don't you have to go back to work?"

Si Mo raised his eyes expressionlessly and smiled: "I have asked the editor-in-chief for leave and asked him to share the work with the authors I have. My most important task at the moment is to take care of you."

In terms of maximizing benefits, Zou Yanzhi is indeed more valuable than a group of mid-level and high-level authors put together. The premise is that you have the confidence to persuade him.

The difficulty is extremely high, and most editors will choose to sacrifice the car to save the driver. They would rather get less than offend a group of platinum resources because of an uncertain factor.

Hearing him say this, Zou Yanzhi didn't look very happy. He stared at Si Mo with deep eyes for a while, pursed his lips and said, "You bet very boldly. Although I don't intend to let you lose, I won't help you win either."

"It's not too late for the editor to leave now. Go back and tell your editor-in-chief, or I can tell him for you."

His eyes seemed unfathomable, and his tone was as cold as autumn rain and winter frost: "To be honest, I have no plans to start a new book at the moment."

"And in view of your company's harassment in recent months, even if I have a plan, I still need to consider whether to continue cooperating with Mu Yun."

"Editor, please don't lose a decent job because of me."

Zou Yanzhi tapped the pages of the book with his fingers, thinking that he had analyzed the pros and cons rationally, and he should not waste any more time on himself.

It has been more than two years since the completion and publication of his last book, and there has been no news since then. Most people think that he has made enough money and wants to give up, or that he has lost the ability to write and has run out of ideas.

Perhaps only Zou Yanzhi himself would know that although that group of people’s guess was not entirely correct, it was not wrong either.

It's not that he has run out of ideas, but he has not had any new inspiration. And since he learned that he has such an incurable disease, he wants to enjoy the rest of his life.

He never regarded writing books as a job, on the contrary, it was a kind of almost fanatical hobby. He felt happy when he sat in front of the computer and typed out paragraphs of text, and when people who were lucky enough to read these words happened to share this joy, he could feel the same frequency of soul at that moment.

Therefore, he was extremely reluctant to complete this "work" under oppression, as that would make him feel boring and tedious.

But even so, he tried. When Mu Yun's people first found him and reminded him to start a new book, he did not refuse.

But the fleeting inspiration was like annihilation powder, and I was forced to stop just as I started.

Perhaps Zou Yanzhi needed time to calm down, but Mu Yun trusted him too much and just published the unedited version as his new serialized book.

Zou Yanzhi admitted that he had a bit of rebellious mentality at that time.

Running out of inspiration was one of them, so he simply stopped updating. He was about to die anyway, so what was the point of forcing him?

Zou Yanzhi knew that he had hit a writing bottleneck, but soon when illness came to him, he had no time to care about so much.

...

Coming back to his senses briefly from his memories, he looked at Si Mo silently and saw that he paused for a moment, as if he was really thinking about his words.

"Actually, I don't care much about the job of editor." The young man opened his mouth, and Zou Yanzhi instinctively thought that he had something else to say, but he saw that Si Mo was hesitant to speak, and all his words ended in a sigh.

Zou Yanzhi frowned and listened to him: "...Actually, I thought I had made it obvious enough."

"You should have figured it out... It seems that Zou Shen is even more dull than I thought."

"What, what did you say?"

The young man raised his eyes suddenly, his eyes were filled with tenderness and determination: "What I mean is, I stay here to take care of you, cook for you, or do anything to please you, all because I am very interested in you as a person."

Every word hit the softest place deep in Zou Yanzhi's heart without any warning, and his pupils suddenly widened a little.

The tender buds beneath the nine-foot-frost ground bravely broke through the ice, and suddenly, the severe winter warmed up like a spring breeze.