He Rijun coming again

It was also the first time Feng Qingzhu held Luo Zhiwen's hand.

It feels amazing.

He never knew that Ah Wen was so cute and docile after he fell asleep.

In the previous life, when Ah Wen was still Ah Wen, they never hugged each other and fell asleep, even after making out, he would leave in a hurry.

There are too many things that bother him.

Feng Qingzhu would kiss Ah Wen's frowning brows and stroke his sweaty cheeks.

But he couldn't accompany Ah Wen to welcome the dawn.

Luo Zhiwen didn't sleep well, the fingers resting in Feng Qingzhu's palm trembled from time to time.

It was like falling into a nightmare, and even breathing was full of despair.

Luo Zhiwen did have a nightmare.

He dreamed of overwhelming fire.

A pitch-black coffin lay in the middle of the flames, and he in the dream walked towards the coffin step by step.

Curling tongues of fire licked his exposed skin, and the burnt smell stimulated his tense nerves.

But he is still moving forward.

Persistence, frantic walking.

The crimson flame turned into a ferocious beast, slowly enjoying him when the sheep was in the mouth of a tiger.

Pain came from every corner of his body, and he was amazed that he could still walk.

He suddenly heard "Brother Feng".

Hoarse as a sawn log.

He jumped forward in shock, belatedly realizing that it was his own voice.

Too late.

Tongues of fire rushed towards his face, and the severe pain exploded on his cheeks——

Luo Zhiwen woke up from his sleep with a scream, and saw the curtains fluttering with the breeze.He followed the swaying light and shadow, realized that he was lying on the bed at home, and then saw a faint light from under the door.

There was also the sound of cooking outside the door.

That sea of ​​fire is a dream.

Luo Zhiwen got up from the bed with a headache, when he reached out to turn on the light, he accidentally knocked over the water glass beside the bed.

Immediately afterwards, hurried footsteps sounded outside the door, and the door was pushed open forcefully: "Ah Wen?"

The familiar voice coincided with a certain voice in my heart.

Luo Zhiwen only felt a loud buzzing in his head, shaking his limbs numb, tears streaming down his face.

"Ah Wen?" Feng Qingzhu didn't get a response, he didn't care about the overturned water glass, leaned over in the darkness, and when he heard his sobbing, he became even more flustered.

"I... I didn't enter your house on purpose.

"You fell asleep in the car, I couldn't wake you up, so I had to find the key and access card in your pocket, with the house number written on it.

"I didn't do anything after I carried you into the house.

"You have been sleeping until now."

Luo Zhiwen wiped the tears on his cheeks in embarrassment, he couldn't see Qing Feng Qingzhu's expression against the light, so he sat up with difficulty: "Are you cooking?... What are you doing here?"

Feng Qingzhu was silent for a moment, then bent down to pick up the shards of glass on the ground: "You are sick, I want to cook porridge for you."

He managed to stop his tears, because Feng Qingzhu's words tended to continue to fall: "Do you know how to cook porridge?"

Feng Qingzhu's silence is the best answer.

Luo Zhiwen felt that reality was more unreal than dreams.

There was an awkward silence between them in the dark bedroom.

Luo Zhiwen managed to sort out his chaotic thoughts, and when he got up, he was held down by Feng Qingzhu.

The man reminded him: "There may be glass shards on the ground."

He tried to get out of bed on the other side.

Feng Qingzhu still refused: "You are sick."

"I'm not sick." Luo Zhiwen got up angrily, and because of the sudden dizziness, Feng Qingzhu supported him again.

He touched his forehead, and finally understood what Feng Qingzhu meant by being sick.

He actually had a fever.

"Lie down for a while, I'll go and see the porridge." Feng Qingzhu pushed Luo Zhiwen back on the bed, pursed his lips and backed away, it seemed that he really wanted to go back to the kitchen, and fight to the death with the porridge.

Luo Zhiwen's head hurt even more, he raised his hand and grabbed Feng Qingzhu's sleeve: "Wait."

Sure enough, Feng Qingzhu stopped and leaned in front of him expectantly, as if he would do what he said without hesitation.

On the contrary, Luo Zhiwen felt a little embarrassed.

"Want to drink water?" Feng Qingzhu's warm breath lingered beside his ear, reminding Luo Zhiwen how close they are now.

He wasn't used to it, and thought he was hiding invisibly.

Feng Qingzhu noticed something, his eyes darkened, and he stopped talking into Luo Zhiwen's ear, for fear that he would feel uncomfortable.

"Help me up," Luo Zhiwen coughed lightly, "I'll teach you how to cook porridge."

"You're still sick." Feng Qingzhu didn't move.

"If you want me to starve to death, keep doing it." He lay back on the bed angrily.

Feng Qingzhu: "..."

Feng Qingzhu thought for a long time, and finally he silently hugged Luo Zhiwen from the bed.

Luo Zhiwen's figure, to put it nicely, is slender, and to put it bluntly, it is so thin that only a handful of bones remain.

Feng Qingzhu hugged him, and the charm that appeared in his heart at some point was replaced by pity long ago.

It wasn't until now that he fully understood how bad he was to Luo Zhiwen.