Quick Wear: But I just want to be a little transparent

The heart that Song Xun wanted to show was broken into pieces, and things were going in the exact opposite direction.

What he should think about now is not how to make Zhang Weisheng let down his guard against him, but how to make Zhang Weisheng let him go and not drive him out in anger.

Song Xun walked into the house holding the clothes, looking totally at a loss.

Zhang Weisheng's voice came from the half-closed wooden door of the room: "Come in and sleep. I'm going to turn off the lights."

Song Xun looked around, hurriedly stuffed his clothes into a rarely used locker in the corner of the kitchen, and walked into the room with a tense heart.

Zhang Weisheng seemed to have forgotten about asking about clothes and placed Song Xun's pillow on the bed.

Song Xun's mind was now filled with worry that Zhang Weisheng would suddenly ask where his clothes were. He had no time to worry about where to sleep and crawled into the bed.

Zhang Weisheng didn't sleep well last night, so he turned off the lights as soon as he saw him lying down. Seeing this, Song Xun breathed a sigh of relief and was not so tense anymore. At the same time, his throat began to itch inexplicably, and he coughed twice uncomfortably.

Zhang Weisheng was lying outside. Every time he just fell asleep, he would be woken up by a cough. In addition, he did not sleep well yesterday, so he turned on the light and turned over to look at Song Xun who was lying inside.

Song Xun held back the cough that was about to come out and looked at Zhang Weisheng innocently.

After looking at each other for a moment, Zhang Weisheng turned off the lights and lay down again.

Song Xun didn't want to cough either, and he understood how important sleep was for someone who needed to get up early to work, but coughing was much more unbearable than yawning.

Song Xun held his breath and his face turned red. In the end, he couldn't hold it in any longer and burst into a series of violent coughs. His chest kept rising and falling and his throat was sore.

The lights were turned back on, Zhang Weisheng walked out without saying a word, and the door opened and closed again.

Song Xun covered his chest and thought that he might be kicked out soon.

Ten minutes later, there was a sound of a door opening outside, and Zhang Weisheng, simply wearing a coat, came in with a bag in his hand. He ignored Song Xun and went to the kitchen to get a glass of water.

He took the box out of the bag and looked at the instructions, then brewed two bags of powder and placed them on the bedside table, then opened the syrup and poured a bottle capful according to the mark on the lid.

It was only then that Song Xun realized that Zhang Weisheng had gone to buy medicine for him. He was moved and said, "Thank you."

As soon as he finished speaking, he burst into violent coughing again.

Zhang Weisheng handed the cup over: "Drink it quickly."

Song Xun took the medicine without hesitation. He closed his eyes and swallowed it in one gulp. He then drank the syrup and obediently handed the empty cup to Zhang Weisheng.

Zhang Weisheng took the cup and went to the kitchen to rinse it. When he came in, he turned off the lights and went to bed.

Song Xun didn’t know whether he was asleep or not. The medicine had not taken effect so quickly. He could only try his best to hold back his coughing and not disturb Zhang Weisheng’s rest.

"Cough if you want. I'm not that harsh."

Zhang Weisheng's voice rang out in the darkness.

Song Xun stopped being hard on himself and coughed twice in peace. Sure enough, this time Zhang Weisheng didn't react at all. He was no longer angry because his coughing disturbed his sleep, and he became calm.

Song Xun didn't know how he fell asleep or how long he had been coughing. He just thought before going to bed that he must wash Zhang Weisheng's clothes again tomorrow.

This incident was still firmly engraved in Song Xun's mind the next morning. After Zhang Weisheng went out to work, he hurried to the kitchen.

As soon as I opened the cabinet door, a musty smell came out.

Song Xun had a bad feeling.

I took out the clothes with both hands almost praying, only to see mold spots of varying sizes clearly spread all over them.

Song Xun had never encountered such a situation before, so he was stunned for a long time before he realized that he should find a way to deal with it.

He took the clothes into the bathroom, spread them out on the tile floor, and spent two hours rescuing several pieces of clothing with absolute seriousness.

After finding that laundry detergent was useless, I tried using dishwashing liquid from the kitchen. I squatted on the ground coughing, rubbing my hands until they were raw, but there was still no effect on the mold spots.

Song Xun finally hid the clothes back in the kitchen cabinet.

For the next two days, I felt very nervous.

However, Zhang Weisheng seemed to have completely forgotten about losing his two sets of clothes and never mentioned it again.

This also made Song Xun completely relieved.

His cough finally got better after two days, and he no longer had fevers at night, which had caused Zhang Weisheng's eyes to turn pale blue.

The improvement of his health made Song Xun feel a sense of crisis. He still remembered what Zhang Weisheng had said before, that he would only stay with him until his illness was over.

Song Xun, who didn't want to leave, began to disguise himself. He always held his head and pretended to be weak, and inadvertently complained to Zhang Weisheng who was passing by that his head was uncomfortable.

As expected, Zhang Weisheng didn't let him leave.

But Song Xun can't keep pretending to be sick. Perhaps he should change his image in front of Zhang Weisheng to lower the other party's vigilance, or be willing to take him in for a while.

So at the dinner table that day, Song Xun helped Zhang Weisheng carry the plates, took the initiative to serve the two of them meals, and even carefully pulled out the chair for Zhang Weisheng.

Zhang Weisheng didn't move, just watched Song Xun being attentive to him.

Song Xun patted the chair and said, "Sit down."

He looked like he was about to serve Zhang Weisheng meal personally.

Zhang Weisheng didn't move his chopsticks, waiting to see what he was going to do.

Song Xun picked up an eggplant with chopsticks and put it in Zhang Weisheng's bowl. His expression was sad and his voice was pitiful: "This is the first time in my life that someone has taken me in and cooked for me. In fact, in my heart, you are almost like my own brother."

If the age difference was not that big, Song Xun might have used a more intimate, blood-related name to bring the two closer.

He continued, "If you are not forced into a desperate situation, who would be willing to steal or rob? I don't want to do that either."

"But since I was born, I didn't know who my parents were. I couldn't even have a hot meal. I could only pick up garbage to make a living."

"I don't even have a piece of clothing in the winter, and I can't even afford a drink of water in the summer. I just couldn't hold on any longer, and that's when I ran into you that day and I had these evil thoughts."

"So can you forgive me..."

Song Xun performed exceptionally well today and was almost moved by what he said, but when he looked up, he saw Zhang Weisheng standing still as a mountain and had almost finished half of his meal.

"Are you done?" Zhang Weisheng put down his chopsticks. "If I say I forgive you, what are you going to say next?"

He looked at Song Xun with a dull expression, except for some emotion in his eyes, as if he was watching characters performing on the stage of a circus, trying to amuse the audience in a naive way.

Song Xun swallowed, not being able to deal with Zhang Weisheng's direct approach, and whispered, "If you can forgive me, please keep me here for a while."

Like a guest amused by the performers on the stage, Zhang Weisheng pretended to be thinking, so Song Xun stared at him nervously, his eyes becoming rounder and rounder.