Mr. Turtle who lives opposite

Zhu stared at the washed dishes in a daze.

For him who lives on takeout, a meal of homemade dumplings is as delicious as a hot pot lover who eats boiled vegetables in plain water for three months.

Zhu is a dead house writer, except for the necessary communication with editors through electronic devices, there is almost no social interaction in life.

He thought to himself, if he went to the opposite door to return the plate now, he would have to prepare some greetings, and it would be best to exchange a few words as a neighbor, and he must look at the other party when he is not good at talking.

But it's just too difficult.

Zhu put his chin on his knees, covered his face with his arms, and entered the stage of sage thinking.

It is said to be thinking, but in fact it is more of self-enlightenment.Faced with things that he wants to do or should do but is instinctively difficult to do, he usually chooses this method.

Who knows who left a gap for the glass windows in the corridor, the cold wind made Zhu Ze's nose itchy and his head dizzy.

After Cheng Yijia opened the door, Zhu Ze was unexpectedly not very nervous.The light in his house seems to be much brighter than his own, but it is not dazzling, it is a soft orange.

Zhu Ze sniffed, suppressed the urge to sneeze, handed over the clean plate and a box of tea cakes, tried to raise his head, his eyes fell on Cheng Yijia's chin, and said, "Thank you for the dumplings. , the dishes are cleaned. And this tea cake is for you."

Cheng Yijia took the things, put them on the shoe cabinet, and put his hands on Zhu Ze's forehead in a natural movement, and his tone was just as concerned as a neighbor should be: "You seem to really have a fever."

Zhu Ze's unconscious head became even more dizzy now, and the blush on his face deepened a little. He looked up at him in a daze, and said, "Ah? Is...is it?"

Cheng Yijia turned and entered the door, and said as he walked, "Come in first, I'll find some medicine for you."

Zhu Ze doesn't like to take medicine and never cares about getting sick.

Unless it is the lack of arms and legs that affects life, other minor illnesses are almost as long as they can be dealt with hard.

But it didn't seem very good to reject other people's kindness. Ignoring the secret joy in my heart, Zhu Ze obediently followed in and closed the door.

There were no extra slippers in the entrance, and the pair on his feet were not very clean. Zhu stood with his head down in the entrance, his mind was like a mess.

Cheng Yijia found the thermometer in the medicine box, poured two more antipyretics into his hands, turned around and saw Zhu Ze still standing at the door, and said, "You don't need to change your shoes, you come in and take your temperature first."

Cheng Yijia greeted the person to the sofa, and handed the thermometer to Zhu Ze: "This will take 5 minutes, is there any other discomfort besides fever?"

Zhu Ze kept rejoicing in his heart that he just took a shower this afternoon, took the thermometer and clamped it, and shook his head slowly.

Cheng Yijia got up and poured two more glasses of water, and sat down next to Zhu Ze, leaving a distance between them that didn't seem oppressive but was close enough.

He could still smell the scent of jasmine vaguely in the air. He guessed it should be shower gel or body lotion. Beautifully packaged cupcakes.