Quick Transmigration: The President of Sick Jiao is fond of and flirted with

Duan Yimo's throat moved.

Is it just such hands that make his calf feel?

He suppressed the turbulent thoughts in his heart, just at this time, the elevator arrived, and he controlled the wheelchair to go to the bedroom.

Song Chubai quickly followed him.

After arriving at the bedroom, Song Chubai realized that Duan Yimo's bedroom was really big.But at the same time, there are very few things inside.

Except for a big bed and a bedside table, there was nothing else.

However, there is a separate toilet and cloakroom next to it. Probably everything is placed in the cloakroom, right?Song Chubai thought uncertainly, but still felt that the room was a bit empty.

He obviously just thought about it in his head, but somehow, he said it.

Duan Yimo took a deep look at him, and said meaningfully: "It's easier to do things if it's open." As for what to do, he didn't say clearly.

Song Chubai didn't want to ask anymore, his ears turned red slightly, he was a little embarrassed.

It seems a little embarrassing to be overheard when I accidentally say something in my heart.

Fortunately, Duan Yimo didn't pursue anything, lightly buckled the wheelchair with his finger, and said lightly: "Come here, massage."

Song Chubai walked over and asked, "Where is the massage?"

Hopefully it's a calf massage so he can take the opportunity to touch it and see how it's doing.

"Up to you." Duan Yimo's tone was light, and there was no sense of urgency in his words.

After he said that, Song Chubai was naturally unwilling to give up such a good opportunity.

He squatted down, stretched out his hand, held Duan Yimo's left calf, and squeezed it lightly.

Duan Yimo's body froze slightly, and a dark red color surged from the depths of his eyes. The round pupils seemed to shrink into a narrow gap at this moment, and the dark light fell on the pupils, sinking.

Not an illusion.

That warm touch is not an illusion.

Maybe it's because he hasn't exercised for a long time, or he has taken any nursing measures for his calf, so the muscles on Duan Yimo's calf are basically atrophied, and they are a little soft when pinched, without any sense of strength.

Song Chubai was pinching and thinking wildly, not noticing that Duan Yimo's eyes were getting darker.

Duan Yimo carefully felt the sensation coming from the calf. Besides the warmth, there seemed to be a slight heat flow rising from the calf.

For a moment, Duan Yimo was absolutely not disabled.

But when he tried to move his calf, he received no response.

His calf was still numb.

Duan Yimo's eyes darkened, he suddenly bent down, and grabbed Song Chubai's wrist.

Song Chubai looked up at Duan Yimo blankly, "Mr. Duan?"

He yelled, and Duan Yimo's figure was reflected in his pure black pupils.

Duan Yimo held Song Chubai's wrist, moved upwards little by little, touched the back of his hand, and then covered every fingertip little by little.

After wrapping his little hands under his big ones, the corners of his mouth curled up, and he said in a low voice, "These hands are really pretty."

Song Chubai's body trembled inexplicably.

"Not as good-looking as Mr. Duan's." He said obediently, "Mr. Duan, can I continue to massage you?"

As he spoke, he struggled a bit, but did not break free.

Duan Yimo held his hand tightly, as if wanting to integrate his hand with him.

Song Chubai raised his head slightly, looked at Duan Yimo, his long eyelashes trembled slightly, and there seemed to be a hint of pitifulness at the end of his eyes.

Duan Yimo moved closer, raised his other hand, and touched the end of his eyes.

As Song Chubai's eyelashes fluttered slightly, they swept over his fingertips, bringing a tingling sensation.

He laughed lowly, moved closer, and his lips fell on the end of Song Chubai's eyes without warning.

Song Chubai's eyes widened, and he looked at Duan Yimo in disbelief.

The brain seemed to shut down at this moment, unable to think.

Duan Yimo's lips were a little cold, as if a high-ranking god was finally willing to give his believers a cold blessing.

Although Song Chubai didn't feel that he was his believer, at this moment, he was still bewildered by Duan Yimo who exuded a strong aura and desire to control.

Until Duan Yimo let go of his hand and moved his lips.

"continue."

Duan Yimo's voice sounded in Song Chubai's ear, a little hoarse.

Song Chubai opened his eyes, and the roots of his ears were already red. He lowered his head and continued to massage Duan Yimo's calf.But in reality, he was talking to the system in his mind.

【Qiqi, why did Duan Yimo kiss me just now? 】

Qiqi: "Qiqi doesn't know."

Song Chubai didn't expect Qiqi to know anything, he just wanted to say something.

【He's so weird. 】

Qiqi: "Host, you must treat the mission target well."

"I know." Song Chubai replied, "Aren't I checking his calf? But you see, I'm not a professional doctor either. Disability is a disease that requires professional medical skills. I feel that it is a bit difficult for me to treat it. .”

[It was also mentioned in the background of the story, many experts failed to cure him, I...]

Song Chubai sighed a little, he really didn't have much confidence in curing Duan Yimo.

"Host, you have to believe in yourself!" Qiqi began to cheer Song Chubai up, "You can definitely do it!"

Song Chubai: ...

No, he can't.

He quietly raised his head to look at Duan Yimo, and was caught off guard by a pair of deep eyes.

Peeping got caught, kind of embarrassing.Song Chubai quickly lowered his head, pretending nothing happened.

As long as he doesn't feel embarrassed, it's others who are embarrassed.

Silence spread between the two, and after a while, it was Duan Yimo who spoke first.

"Are you used to living downstairs?"

His suddenly gentle tone made Song Chubai raise his head involuntarily, and gave him a strange look.

"I'm used to it." Song Chubai said, "It's pretty good here."

Much better than the Song family.

"Yeah." Duan Yimo responded and fell silent again.

During the silence, there seemed to be a touch of depression.

Song Chubai couldn't stand the oppressive atmosphere, and asked softly, "Mr. Duan, is my ID card with you?"

A dark light flashed across Duan Yimo's eyes.

"You want an ID card?"

Song Chubai nodded without hesitation.

This simple response seemed to have hit Duan Yimo's spot, causing his face to darken suddenly, and a sneer appeared at the corner of his mouth.

"What do you need an ID card for?"

He lowered his voice, his chest rose and fell quickly, and there was a hint of possessiveness hidden in his eyes that he hadn't even noticed when looking at Song Chubai.

"Want to...leave me?"

He stared at Song Chubai closely, not letting go of any expression on his face.