Chapter 107:


"……satisfied."
He An's voice is lighter than usual.
He opened the calendar in room 207, hurriedly ticked a check belonging to tomorrow, and hurriedly pushed Zheng Feiyu's ID back again: "Okay."
"Thank you."
Zheng Feiyu received his credentials and turned out of the small living room.
He An put his cheek on his back and looked at the back of his stride. He fell into a difficult self-examination: every time he said the word "satisfaction", he felt that it was a kind of subtle discipline. More, slowly, I will believe that Zheng Feizhen is indeed an Alpha to his satisfaction. But to say "dissatisfied", he really couldn't fault it.
Zheng Feiyu is too smart.
He An had thought that Master Zheng, who was going to take him back to Yuanjiang, had to take a chance once he seized the opportunity, sticking to him to cultivate his feelings all the time-but Zheng Feiyu didn't.
Absolutely not.
He seemed to be a different person, except for the minute when he came to apply for renewal every day, he would never bother. Occasionally I met in the street, but just nodded with a smile. Unless He An took the initiative to speak, he would never venture to talk about a word. Zheng Feiyu's most excessive behavior so far was when Lily Lan snored in the swing cradle with 666 and stood in the corridor on the second floor for an afternoon.
Restraint can express love.
And restraint is often expressed more than entanglement.
Zheng Feiyu strictly controlled his behavior and stopped at He An's anxiety line. He An even offered to offer him a week's check-in.
"The appointment is only given for one day at a time, and I am afraid that it will be given too much, and I will not be self-disciplined in the future."
He smiled and refused He An's kind intentions, and was justified.
How to do it?
Zheng Feiyu didn't leak water, and He An could not catch any handle.
On the day you bought the bar, Zheng Feizhen asked He An a question: What do you most want to become a bar?
He An did not answer at the time, but he had an answer in his heart.
He wanted a pastry shop that didn't need to be big or expensive, as long as he sold affordable hot drinks, cakes and breads, so that the guests of Qingguo Inn could find a place to fill their stomachs-the inn's kitchen was too rude and just enough to make Three meals a day for their own family, they can not take care of the residents, and the nearest restaurant is also two blocks away.
Many customers will call before booking to ask if there is something delicious nearby. He An is reluctant to use ambiguous words such as "There are restaurants within walking distance" to perfuse them, but once the real situation is informed, the order is often unavailable. Arrived.
Even so, He An still didn't tell Zheng Feiyu: I want a pastry shop.
The store was not his, and he could not kidnap Zheng Feiyu with his own needs.
At that time he repeatedly refused to answer. Zheng Feizhen also thoughtfully stopped asking, but showed a confident smile: "Let me guess what the correct answer is."
Can he guess?
He An bit his fingertips, always feeling that it should not be easy, but a certain voice inside was extremely clear: Of course he guessed it, because no one knows what you want better than him.
Ten days passed and the shops across the street were over half transformed, and they overlapped with the pictures in He An's mind:
Large floor-to-ceiling windows with excellent lighting, enthusiastic red brick walls, fishbone flooring, round wooden low tables, streamlined long bar counters, gray linen sofas, oak bookshelves extending to the ceiling, full of folk customs Crafts and green plants ... Finally, there are rows of multi-layer pastry cabinets.
In the first few days of opening, He An even saw an old gentleman with white hair and white beard, with a high nose bridge, deep eye sockets, a smile and a smile, wearing white chef clothes to train employees in the new store.
The old man, named David, is a prestigious Michelin chef who has worked in Jiusheng for more than ten years. This time, Zheng Feiyu was invited to sit in the town in a personal relationship. He personally made a Chinese-style glutinous rice milk cake and sent it to Qingguo Inn as a ceremony. He An took a spoon to dig out a small piece and fed it to the lily of the valley. The little girl drooled and drank a bib. From then on, she went to the street to report every day.
If Zheng Fei came out, she twisted her butt, stumbled back to the bridge, and fled into He's arms to hide.
If Grandpa David came out and handed her a spoonful of glutinous rice milk cake, she would eat with a sigh of satisfaction, and then pretended that nothing happened, slowly holding back the railing, looking good, a little Children are not guilty.
He An couldn't take her, reached out and wiped off the milk stains on the corners of her lips, held her and weighed.
Alas, she really is fat.
On December 25, after half a month of renovation, the shop across the street took on a new look and officially opened. It has a cute name called "Cranberry West Point House".
Logo is the red strawberry that Lily of the Valley likes, echoing the green apple of Green Fruit Inn.
This day also happens to be Lily's first birthday.
In the center of the West Point House is a giant cake, which is nine stories high. A large bouquet of white lilies of the valley blooms from the top and is surrounded by blue leaves. Grandpa David stood beside the cake with a smile, accompanied by his artwork as a proud artist.
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