Chapter 98:

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This is an anti-theft chapter. This is really interesting.
Song Luan felt that she might be fainting, her chest tightness was short of breath, but she couldn't breathe. This must have been frightened by Zhao Nanyu. She barely stabilized her mind. Five fingers squeezed the food container tightly, and spread coldly from the soles of her feet to the back of her head.
Song Luan swallowed her throat, struck her spirits and looked at him, raised her chin slightly, her lips moved, her attitude was not good and she could not say bad, she tried to speak in an unreasonable tone before the original owner, "Yes For the children, you ask so much to do."
Zhao Nanyu was stunned for a moment, her eyes deepened, and she did not feel disgusted by her sudden change of attitude. She was like a paper tiger in front of him, he could poke her with a finger. The little tiger who was just paper-thin still thought that he was very powerful and pretended to be cute.
"Ok."
Seeing that he didn't continue to question, Song Luan could be relieved, and her chest was not stuffy or short, she walked to know the brother, put the food box on the low table, and put the sweet-scented osmanthus cake in it. Came out.
The crystal clear osmanthus cake smells fragrant and sweet, and it looks vivid. I have never seen this shape of pastry. The children are still attracted by the osmanthus cake. The two dark eyes are staring at the plate seriously. Look.
Song Luan smiled and pushed before him, "Try to see if it tastes good."
There is a small toy in the hand of Zhige, and a pair of big eyes looks at her innocently. Song Luan simply clamped a piece for him, fed it to his mouth, and whispered warmly, "Come."
The child opened his mouth obediently, took a bite, and then swallowed. He whispered: "Sweet."
Sweet but not greasy, he likes it.
Song Luan was greatly satisfied, reached out and pinched his cheek, and asked again: "Do you like it?"
Shige's eyes were reluctant to move away from her. The sweet-scented osmanthus cake was sweet, and the smell on his mother's body was sweet. He nodded vigorously, "like it."
Song Luan touched his head again, "Just like it."
Zhi Geer buried his face, lowered his eyes, and was still embarrassed to be close to her.
Song Luan was still a little lost in her heart. She had seen several times when she knew her brother and hugged the intimacy of others. Sometimes it was Zhao Nanyu, sometimes his little uncle, his arms around their necks tightly, but so For many days, the child had not taken the initiative to hug her and took her hand.
Although excusable, she was a little sad.
But now it's better than the cautious appearance he didn't dare to eat in front of her at first. With such a thought, the stagnation in Song Luan's chest swept away.
Zhao Nanyu, who was silent on the edge, suddenly smiled, "It looks good, I will try it."
Slender fingers squeezed a piece of osmanthus cake and took a bite. It was sweet and not greasy. It was nothing like what she could make. He raised his eyebrows, "It's delicious."
Song Luan thanked very politely.
Zhao Nanyu walked two steps forward, leaning on her very close, she could smell the light incense that belonged to him alone, she clenched her hands, and she suddenly mentioned midair in the air, not quite understanding what he wanted to do.
Zhao Nanyu stretched out his hand, obviously a reader, but his fingertips were rough, and his cold fingertips fell on her slightly hot cheeks. Fortunately, he didn’t use much strength this time, and his fingertips were carelessly crossed from above. His skin turned red as soon as he wiped it, and his tenderness felt a little scary. He asked, "Why is the face so white? Is it uncomfortable?"
He didn't say it was okay, he said so, and didn't know if it was a psychological effect, Song Luan really felt uncomfortable.
Originally, she was very healthy. After giving birth, she walked from the Ghost Gate and almost did not come alive. After that time, she was not as good as before. This is one of the reasons why the original owner did not like her biological son.
But even if it is not better than before, it is much better than the sick seedlings, without typhoid fever or fever, still live and dance every day.
The brother who sat on the soft couch heard her uncomfortable body, immediately raised her eyes, staring at her stubbornly, she should be worried about her.
Song Luan thought for a while and then nodded, "Well, it's a headache."
Zhao Nanyu's hand never seemed to have been warm. When she came back to touch her, she was dying of ice. After a while, he finally managed to move his hand away from her face. "Then go back and rest."
Song Luan said without hesitation, just about to leave, he suddenly grabbed her by the shoulder and nailed her in place, the two were very close together, and they were about to stick together.
When Zhao Nanyu spoke, she swept her neck with cold breath. He said: "Although it's spring, the sky is still cold. You come back and wear more."
Song Luan straightened his body and said stiffly, "Well."
"Let's go back."
"it is good."
She hurriedly walked out of Zhao Nanyu's study, feeling that talking to him would cost him a year's life. No matter how good he was, it was useless. Insidiousness was insidious, and such things as anger could not be hidden.
After Song Luan returned to the hospital, it was still early, and she moved out of the rocking chair and lay in the yard for a while. She was lazy in the warm sun, and she fell asleep after shaking and shaking.
It was twilight when I woke up, and my head was a little confused after opening my eyes. He was top-heavy and his nose and throat were uncomfortable.
"Ma'am, it's cold in the evening, shall we enter the house?"
She opened her mouth and her throat hurt when she made a noise. She said, "Okay." Then she asked again, "How long have I slept?"
"More than one hour." The maid answered.
After sleeping for so long, it's no wonder the sky is getting dark.
At this time, her face was uglier than before Zhao Nanyu in the afternoon and whiter than the paper. The whole person seemed to have no spirit. Song Luan’s soles were all soft. She thought she was blown away by the afternoon wind. Too. In addition, the typhoid fever was not complete when she first wore it, and she fell ill again.
She supported the maidservant's wrist and said weakly, "Help me."
How dare you not obey, "Yes."
As soon as she entered the room, she went straight to the bed in the room. The maid couldn't help but remind the sentence, "Madam, I will have dinner later."
Song Luan lay on the soft quilt, her shoes didn't take off, she returned feebly: "I have a headache and don't eat anymore."
Headache, uncomfortable nose, terrible.
The maid was about to tell her that Zhao Nanyu was coming over to eat together tonight, but she had wrapped herself in a quilt and was motionless in it.
In the study room, after she left, Zhao Nanyu didn’t continue to copy the family law anymore. The words she wrote might not look good, she was tangible, and she didn’t know how to play with toys. Even if he didn’t love sweets, he ate several times in a row. A sweet-scented osmanthus cake, when he reached for the pastry on the plate again, Zhao Nanyu uttered a voice to stop him, "The fifth one, I can't eat any more."
My brother shrank his hand back and whispered, "Daddy, don't you eat it?"
Zhao Nanyu didn't like to eat sweets either. He smiled and asked, "Do you like her so much?"
"Well, I like it." Zhigeer is a simple and ignorant child. Treating him well, he can never be indifferent.
The little man didn't seem to be afraid of his father. He climbed down and collapsed, walked to Zhao Nanyu step by step with his short legs, hugged his calf, and looked up at him with his face, "Dad, don't you like it? ?"
The soft fragrance is sweet, and the mother who often smiles to people, doesn't he like it?
Zhao Nanyu remained silent for a long time, and the color of his pupils deepened a little bit. All the darkness and violentness were suppressed very well. He smiled, "I like it too."
Song Luan, the weak, sweet, trembling with fear in front of him, really tickled him.

The sky was completely dark, and Zhao Nanyu entered her house. The meals laid on the table had not moved, and her eyes were swept around, and she was not seen.
He asked in a cold voice: "Where's your wife?"
"Madam said she had a headache and was lying on the bed."
Zhao Nanyu strode into the middle of the room. The person on the bed wrapped himself tightly with a quilt, leaving only a seam to breathe. He sat by the bed and pulled her quilt open, forcing her to reveal her head.
Song Luan's face was red, her delicate eyebrows were tight, and her delicate body was sticking to the bed, and she looked down.
Zhao Nanyu put her hand on her forehead, it was a little hot, she had a fever.
Disgust flashed through these light eyes.
He sat up slowly, leaning against the bed of pear-carved wood, a light shirt and a thin collar, his collar slightly open, revealing a white chest. He propped his head and casually looked at the sleeping woman around him.
The woman on the bed was sleeping badly. She was lying on the bed in all directions, almost occupying most of the bed, and her hands and feet were still restlessly, her legs rubbing against him.
Song Luan's clothes were messy at the moment, and her long dark hair covered her small half of her face. Her eyelashes were thick and slender, and her skin was delicate and blown away. Zhao Nanyu's eyes gradually went down, and she looked at her waist socket with interest. The quilt was kicked into the corner by her long ago, and a thin waist gave people unlimited reverie.