Quick Wear: Love still depends on two love brains

Mo Qinghan narrowed his eyes slightly. He could see how Quan Jiuxi "cooked" just now.

So it's suspicious that she's suddenly so weak.

Even if you look closely, you can see that although Quan Jiuxi is trembling, there is a hint of "excitement" in his eyes.

What is she excited about?

Recalling Quan Jiuxi's actions just now, Mo Qinghan thought for a moment.

"You? Do you want to eat?"

Quan Jiuxi said in a delicate tone.

Mo Qinghan turned around and left without looking at her, leaving only one sentence, "Clean it up, or get out."

Quan Jiuxi looked at the man's back and asked, "How much progress have you made in conquering the enemy?"

[Sir, seventeen percent. 】

Quan Jiuxi nodded. Of course, she couldn't always look like a little white rabbit.

......

As the morning light just filled the carved railings on the second floor of the Mo Family Manor, Quan Jiuxi sat down at the long dining table in the restaurant.

She was wearing a milky white silk nightgown, the hem of which hung on the carpet like a soft cloud.

Her long black hair was loosely tied into a low bun, with a few strands hanging down at the side of her neck, swaying gently as she chewed.

She held the silver fork in her fingertips and picked up a piece of strawberry mille-feuille. When the pink cream touched the corner of her lips, she didn't rush to wipe it off. Instead, she looked up at the stairs.

Footsteps were soon heard on the stairs, the crisp sound of black leather shoes stepping on marble.

Quan Jiuxi looked up and saw Mo Qinghan wearing a dark gray college-style suit, his shirt collar was tied meticulously, and the black tie made his neck lines look even more neat.

He had just entered college, and the youthfulness of high school had faded away. But between his eyebrows and eyes, there was a coldness that kept strangers away. His forehead was full, but his face looked a little strange.

——His skin color, which used to be cool, now had a faint paleness, and there was a barely noticeable dark blue tint under his eyes.

Quan Jiuxi felt amused. Although Mo Qinghan had a weird personality, he was still a teenager of seventeen or eighteen years old.

Sometimes emotions are really superficial.

Quan Jiuxi put down the silver fork and rubbed his fingertips lightly on the tablecloth.

She watched Mo Qinghan walk down the last step, and when his eyes swept across the dining table, he acted as if he didn't see her.

He walked straight to the entrance, and the corner of his black suit brushed against the dining chair, bringing up a gust of cold wind.

"Do you want to eat something?" Quan Jiuxi's voice sounded at the right time. It was no longer as delicate as yesterday, but soft and sticky as if she had just woken up, like cotton soaked in morning dew.

She stood up from the chair, her white little hand raised high, holding a steaming pork and green onion bun in her palm.

The bun skin was a light milky white, and the folds were as neat as carefully folded paper. The heat lingered around her fingertips, making the skin look even more delicate.

Mo Qinghan paused, his back tensed, as if he was burned by these words.

He turned around slowly, his thick black eyebrows twisted instantly, and his deep eyes were full of annoyance, as if saying "mind your own business".

But when his eyes fell on Quan Jiuxi's face, the irritability was inexplicably stuck -

Her eyes were bright, like broken stars in the morning light, and her long eyelashes trembled slightly, with a hint of cautious expectation.

Even the tip of her nose has a soft pink tint, making her look like an older sister who is worried about her younger brother.

There was a sudden empty pain in his stomach, and Mo Qinghan pursed his thin lips.

He had been thinking all night last night and didn't have time to eat breakfast this morning. At this moment, he was tempted by the aroma of buns and felt hungry instantly.

His Adam's apple moved and his eyes fell on the steaming bun.

This is the Mo family's breakfast and has nothing to do with her, the "stepsister who came halfway".

Without saying a word, he strode up to Quan Jiuxi, stretched out his bony hand, and snatched the bun.

His fingertips accidentally touched her palm, and the warm touch made both of them pause.

Mo Qinghan's hands were very cold, with a hint of jade-like coolness, while Quan Jiuxi's palms were very warm, still stained with the heat of the buns.

He quickly withdrew his hand as if he was scalded, turned around and walked towards the entrance without even saying "thank you", his black leather shoes stepping on the ground, and his footsteps were full of impatience.

Quan Jiuxi looked at his back and couldn't help but hum softly.

She looked down at her palm. When she touched his fingertips just now, she could clearly feel the bulging blue veins on the back of his hand - this kid, he was obviously feeling uncomfortable in his stomach but still holding on.

"Impolite kid."

She muttered and sat back at the table, picking up the strawberry mille-feuille and continuing to eat.

When Mo Qinghan got into the car, he was still staring at the bun.

He didn't want to eat what Quan Jiuxi handed him, but her sparkling eyes just now made him swallow back the words of refusal that were on the tip of his tongue.

He opened the oil paper and took a big bite. The bun skin was as soft as a cloud, and the aroma of the meat filling spread instantly. The saltiness was just right, with a hint of the fragrance of chopped green onions. It was unexpectedly delicious.

After finishing the buns in a few bites, the hunger in the stomach was temporarily suppressed. But before I walked far, a sharp colic suddenly came from the stomach, which was much more severe than the usual dull pain.

Mo Qinghan's face suddenly changed, and sweat broke out on his forehead. He pressed his stomach tightly with one hand, and his knuckles turned white due to the force. With the other hand, he grabbed the armrest, and his fingertips left several marks on the leather armrest.

"Master, are you okay?" The driver quickly slowed down the car and looked back worriedly.

Mo Qinghan gritted his teeth, his voice hoarse with pain: "Go...to the hospital, the usual place."

He has chronic gastritis, a problem he developed in high school. He usually relies on stomach medicine to treat it. This time, he ate greasy buns on an empty stomach and stayed up late, so it was obviously an acute attack.