He Mingxiao quickly poured five milliliters of oil and left, and Wei Zeling was concave from the moment he appeared, as if he was going to become the next "abalone Shih Tzu".

It's a pity that the flattering eyes were thrown to the blind man, and He Mingxiao was stunned and didn't give her a single look.

Wei Zeling pouted, deliberately sighed heavily, and brushed the abalone shell vigorously as if venting her anger, and the brush head rubbed a "swishing" sound on the shell.

Nan Xian watched for a while, sat back on the rattan rocking chair leisurely, listened to the rhythmic "swishing" sound, and slowly peeled an orange grown by the farmer.

The house of the villager where they live is the house of an elderly couple.

The old couple are in their seventies, their spirits are very good, and they are very enthusiastic.

The aroma of oranges fills the small space on the chaise longue, and it seems to become warm when the warm winter sun shines.

As soon as she took a bite, the juice overflowed and filled her mouth, sour and sweet, and she narrowed her eyes in satisfaction, the corners of her mouth raised high.

She wore an off-white short coat, with a circle of fluffy and soft rabbit fur around the cuffs and neckline, the tip of her chin hidden in the hair, and her cheeks bulging, like a little hamster stealing peanuts, so cute that she was a mess.

When He Mingxiao turned back to deliver the bowl filled with oil, he saw such a scene.

His steps slowed involuntarily, and the tip of his heart seemed to be scratched by a kitten with shallow claws.

He looked at her tenderly, slightly distracted: how long has it been since he saw her so relaxed and real?

Wei Zeling brushed the abalone shell until her hands were sore, raised her wrist to wipe the sweat on her forehead, and swept away the afterglow before she saw He Mingxiao's figure.

She was stunned for a moment, and then noticed his gaze at Nan Xian, and her jealousy swelled.

She bit her lower lip and deliberately slammed the brush into the basin.

The basin is made of stainless steel, and the wooden brush handle smashes against the edge with a huge "thump".

Nan Xian was taken aback, she stopped chewing, opened her eyes, and raised her eyebrows: "What are you doing, you want to rebel?" ”

Wei Zeling snorted, "Don't brush it!" Annoying! Then he got up and entered the room in a huff, deliberately slamming the door.

Nan Xian looked inexplicable: "What's wrong with this little broken child...... Why are you here again? The last sentence was said to He Mingxiao.

He smiled innocently, "I'll return the bowl, by the way, can I borrow your soy sauce?" Or the original price, right? ”

Nan Xian tilted her head to look at him for a while, then lay back on the rattan chair and nodded in the direction of the kitchen, "If you brush that pot of abalone, you can use the things on the stove." ”

He Mingxiao was worried that he couldn't find a chance to stay with her for a while, and when he heard the words, he was naturally overjoyed, and he was full of words, as if he was afraid that she would regret it, so he put down the bowl and hurried to work.

He didn't wear the gloves left by Wei Zeling, rolled up the sleeves of his sweater, reached into the basin, pinched an abalone with his slender fingers, and brushed it very seriously.

In winter, the water was very cold, and in a short time, his hands were frozen red, the green tendons stirred on the back of his hands, and his fingertips became a bright pink like roses.

Little Mazar was a mismatch for his tall man, his legs curled up a little aggrievedly, his back slightly bent, and a strand of broken hair slipped from his forehead and swayed gently on his brow.

Nan Xian just glanced at him casually, and she couldn't take her eyes off it.