Kuai Chuan: Mei Qiang is miserable and forced to love by Sick Jiao

Fu Liang didn't dare to look back at him at all, and walked straight into the bathroom to wash in his pajamas, but he couldn't help but recall the recipe of the old hen soup in his mind, except for the old hen, water, salt...he didn't know much about other ingredients.

Although he in the role of Cary can make old hen soup, those memories are completely other people's memories for him at present, and he is not as proficient as he has personally experienced.

While brushing his teeth, he looked at himself in the mirror and wondered: "Why do I want to make soup for him so diligently? Since I was a child, others have made soup for me and sent me soup!"

Has Mr. Ba ever been wronged like this, and has he ever been so mean?

Then, he defended himself: "Forget it, he was hurt because of me, and I feel guilty, so let's repay the grace of saving my life."

Fu Liang didn't understand how to achieve the first "BE" task emphasized in "Dog Blood Disease Jiaoxiu Luochang" and what constitutes BE, so he had to let the plot take its course.

With the help of his servants, Fu Liang made the kitchen a mess, and at seven o'clock in the evening, he finally cooked the old hen soup that Song Jingyuan had been thinking about day and night, served him a bowl and brought it to his hand .

The two of them had already had dinner. They were sitting on the sofa in the living room playing mobile games. Fu Liang's sitting posture should be as comfortable as possible. The key is not to affect the performance of the game, but Song Jingyuan has always been reserved.

He put down his phone, took Fu Liang's chicken soup with both hands reverently, took a sip with a spoon, and tasted it: "Brother, your soup making skills are always so good."

Ha, ha ha.

Fu Liang also had a bowl of soup to taste. The taste of the chicken soup was not bad, but it was mainly because the chicken was good, and it had nothing to do with his craftsmanship.

Song Jingyuan kept smiling while drinking the soup: "I don't know if your other skills are just as good, brother."

Fu Liang didn't know if what he was talking about was nasty, but obviously he thought about it, and the soup that hadn't been swallowed immediately spewed out of his mouth.

Song Jingyuan put down the soup bowl in time, handed the paper to his lips and chuckled: "Brother, I'm talking about your cooking skills."

Farting, definitely on purpose.

When Song Jingyuan was about to wipe the soup stains from the corners of his lips, Fu Liang hurriedly avoided, took the paper in his hand to wipe his mouth, and accidentally caught a few dots on his left wrist that had been burned by candles from the corner of his eyes.

"What's going on here?" Fu Liang immediately grabbed his wrist and asked sternly.

Song Jingyuan's eyes were blurred under the beige light, and his thin lips curled slightly: "Brother, I don't hurt."

"Uh..." Fu Liang also put down the soup bowl, grabbed his wrist and got up and went upstairs to the bedroom, "Have you never taken medicine? Why do you still have a habit of self-harm?"

Now he believes more and more in Shen Hao's words, Song Jingyuan is a coward, it's not impossible to block the knife for him after buying the murderer.

"Brother, it hurts." Song Jingyuan frowned in pain.

Fu Liang couldn't bear to loosen his grip on his wrist a little bit.

He didn't look back, and continued to pull him upstairs, with a sinister smile on Song Jingyuan's lips behind him.

Fu Liang asked him to sit on the bed, then rummaged through the box and took out the medicine box. He remembered that there was a special ointment for burns in it, and he couldn't care less about it now, so he hurriedly scooped out a little bit with his fingers and gently rubbed it on the burned spot on Song Jingyuan's wrist.

This gentle touch fascinated Song Jingyuan even more than the coolness of the ointment. His delicate Adam's apple couldn't help rolling twice. When Fu Liang lowered his head and concentrated on applying the medicine for him, his handsome face quickly approached him, and quickly kissed him hard on his lips. one time.

Fu Liang raised his eyes to look at him in shock, and the movements of his hands froze suddenly: "What the hell are you doing right now!"

He didn't blurt out what was in his heart, but Song Jingyuan stared at him pitifully: "I'm sorry, brother, you are so beautiful, I couldn't hold back."

"Uh..." Fu Liang was stunned for a moment, looking away from him, seeing the injury on his wrist, and then thinking of the injury on his lower back, his heart softened immediately, and a trace of hot sweat slid down his temples, " It's okay."

His voice was slightly dry, which made Song Jingyuan's heart tremble slightly.

Fu Liang continued to apply the ointment on him, and after finishing the work, he asked calmly, "Do you want me to change the medicine on your waist?"

Song Jingyuan waved his hands pretending to be panic: "No need, bro, I'll do it myself."

"Ah."

Fu Liang swallowed, got up and passed him leaning against the wall and playing with his mobile phone, his heart beating like a drum.

Song Jingyuan slowly unbuttoned the black cotton pajamas, then gently slipped off the pajamas, bent down to take the medicine on the bedside table, but the wound hurt so much that he gasped.

His movements were too difficult and strenuous. Fu Liang tried his best not to focus on his smooth and bony back. After walking towards him, he pushed away his hand reaching for the bedside table, and then sat back beside him: "The doctor didn't tell you that this medicine is three Do you change it every day?"

"Uh..." Song Jingyuan smiled lightly, with a smile in his eyes, "Brother, why did you ask me to change my medicine just now?"

Fu Liang's earlobe was red, and he didn't know how to answer, because he was too nervous at that time, so he just found a topic.

Song Jingyuan pressed while the iron was hot: "Do you want to see me take off my clothes?"

-

"You're thinking too much..." Fu Liang swallowed almost imperceptibly, and helped him put his pajamas back on his shoulders, "Put your clothes on quickly."

Song Jingyuan stared straight at him, and said with a half-smile, "Brother, I want to take a bath, please help me."

-

Fu Liang's earlobe seemed to be about to be burned to the point of evaporation. He looked at Song Jingyuan with wide eyes in surprise, and couldn't help cursing: You are really sick.

Seeing that Fu Liang was a little embarrassed, Song Jingyuan took his hand around his waist and deliberately pressed it hard on the wound, frowning: "Brother, I was injured, it hurts so much."

Fu Liang quickly withdrew his hand, and the hot sweat on his body was even more violent: "Are you sick?"

"elder brother."

Song Jingyuan looked at him with watery eyes, full of expectation.

"Okay, okay, I'll help you take a bath."

Fu Liang sighed and compromised, took his arm and got up to go to the bathroom.

Fu Liang was shirtless, wearing only a pair of black boxer pants, and the same was true for Song Jingyuan sitting next to the bathtub.

Because Song Jingyuan was injured, Fu Liang couldn't directly sprinkle water on him, so he had to use a towel to soak in hot water and wring it dry to scrub his body.

Originally, Fu Liang was very serious, but when he wiped Song Jingyuan's body with a hot towel, all he could see was Song Jingyuan's fair and firm skin. Ideas killed in the cradle...

Although Song Jingyuan's body was in his gaze, all he was thinking about was the gorillas in the zoo.