Chapter 1317

Wang Xiaoming sat up, twisted his neck, and stretched: "It feels so uncomfortable."

Wang Bing eagerly broke away from Yang Ming, climbed to Wang Xiaoming's side, and hugged his waist: "Uncle, are you okay?"

Wang Xiaoming touched the top of his hair: "Okay, it's okay."

Wang Bing rubbed against Wang Xiaoming, like a puppy finding its mother after leaving home.

Yang Ming stretched out his hand and covered Wang Xiaoming's forehead. Wang Xiaoming subconsciously hid behind him, but with the back of the sofa behind him, he had no place to hide. He could only let Yang Ming press his forehead, his broad and warm palm against it. Touching his forehead, Wang Xiaoming felt a tingling sensation on his back for no reason, which went straight to his scalp, making him feel dizzy.

Yang Ming put his hand on it for about five seconds: "Well, the fever has gone down a lot. I still need to continue taking medicine at night."

Wang Xiaoming touched his head to get rid of the weird feeling: "Well, it's not a big problem. I'll just take a nap. What time is it?"

Yang Ming glanced at the clock on the wall: "Twenty past four."

Zhang Yiwei poked his head out of the kitchen: "Brother Yang Ming, it's done. You can do it."

Yang Ming threw the satchel to Wang Xiaoming: "Put it away for you. I'm going to cook."

Wang Xiaoming found that he had slept all afternoon. He looked at the door and saw whether the rain outside had stopped. He found that pedestrians were still holding umbrellas. It had been raining for a long time.

Not long after, the two boys brought out the dishes cooked by Yang Ming and placed them on the table near the kitchen door. Zhang Yiwei said: "Boss, it's time to eat."

Wang Xiaoming took Wang Bing to wash his hands and rinse his mouth, and then returned to the table. He saw the pork belly with pickled vegetables, stuffed tofu, beans and eggplant, and tomato and egg soup on the table. Most of the dishes were not too greasy, but But he had no appetite: "Ah Bing, I'll serve you some rice."

Wang Xiaoming served Wang Bing rice and put the vegetables on the table, but found that Yang Ming hadn't come out yet: "Where is Yang Ming?"

Zhang Yiwei said: "Brother Yang Ming is still making porridge."

Wang Xiaoming walked to the door of the kitchen and smelled a strange fragrance rushing toward him. He suddenly felt hungry: "What kind of porridge do you make?"

"Vegetable porridge." Yang Ming stirred the casserole with a spoon.

Wang Xiaoming walked over and saw the rice grains in the casserole rolling up and down. It was not cooked particularly thick, but the porridge soup was milky white: "What's going on with this soup? Why is it this color?"

Yang Ming said: "This is fish soup."

Wang Xiaoming realized that he was cooking porridge with fish soup: "Where is the fish?"

Yang Ming pointed to the soup bowl next to him, which contained a stewed crucian carp. Wang Xiaoming smiled and said, "It's really luxurious to cook porridge with fish soup."

Yang Ming didn't say anything. He put the finely chopped pea shoots, spinach, shiitake mushrooms and shredded carrots into the porridge, added a little seasoning and stirred it gently for a few times. He then took the casserole down and said, "Okay, you can eat it. Go get a bowl and serve it yourself.”

Wang Xiaoming looked at him in surprise: "Did you make it for me?"

"Sick meal." Yang Ming washed his hands and went out to eat, leaving Wang Xiaoming looking at the pot of fragrant porridge with a complex expression. He didn't expect that he would be treated so well even if he was sick. Wang Xiaoming couldn't bear it. The corners of his mouth curled up.

He scooped a little and put it into his mouth. The taste was simply beyond people's imagination. The rice was not sticky and retained the fragrance of the rice. The soup had no fishy smell at all and his mouth was full of freshness and sweetness. Wang Xiaoming didn't know why. To describe this sense of satisfaction on the taste buds. He didn't bother to use a bowl to serve it, so he went out with the pot and placed the casserole on the empty seat next to Yang Ming: "Thank you."

Yang Ming glanced at him and said nothing.

The dishes on the table were clearly cooked by Yang Ming, but everyone was looking at Wang Xiaoming's casserole. Wang Bing was drooling: "Uncle, what are you eating?"

Wang Xiaoming glanced at Wang Bing. He just tasted a little bit, so he probably wouldn't infect him: "Uncle, give me some." He went to get a spoon and a bowl, scooped out a bowl of porridge and put it in front of Wang Bing. "Drink slowly, don't burn it."

Wang Bing knelt on the chair, blowing and stirring the porridge in the bowl, not to mention the eagerness. The other people were too embarrassed to share Wang Xiaoming's sick meal, so they could only watch in silence. Zhang Yiwei couldn't help but ask: "Boss, is that porridge delicious?"

"Well, not bad." Wang Xiaoming had a happy smile on his face.

Zhang Yiwei said: "Brother Yang Ming, teach me how to make this porridge!"

Yang Ming said without raising his eyes: "Learn to chop vegetables first."

Wang Xiaoming couldn't help but laugh: "Teach me, Master."

"Take care of your illness!" Yang Ming continued without raising his eyebrows.

Wang Xiaoming chuckled, lowered his head and continued to drink porridge. Anyway, someone is cooking it now, so it’s not too bad.

During dinner, Wang Xiaoming felt better and wanted to help in the kitchen, but Yang Ming kicked him out and asked him to continue to recuperate. Wang Xiaoming said: "I'd better help you. What if you collapse from exhaustion?"

Yang Ming glanced at him: "Can you say something nice?"

Wang Xiaoming chuckled: "I was wrong, Master will always be healthy!"

In the end, he couldn't help. He only did ordering and cashiering, and he wasn't even used to serve the dishes. During this period, I received a lot of phone calls, all from people ordering food and making banquet appointments.

At 9:30 in the evening, after seeing off the last table of guests, the restaurant closed. The rain outside has stopped. The air after the rain is clean and fresh, with a slight salty smell. It is the smell of the ocean that Wang Xiaoming is used to. He took a deep breath of fresh air. Although his muscles seemed to be a little sore, he felt that his body was full of pain. I felt a lot more relaxed, thanks to Yang Ming today. Without him, the store wouldn't be able to survive, and I wouldn't be able to recover so quickly.

"Thanks to you today, Yang Ming, thank you!" Wang Xiaoming expressed his sincere gratitude.

Yang Ming said nothing, wrapped towels around Wang Xiaoming and Wang Bing, started the tricycle, and drove home.

After returning home, Wang Xiaoming remembered the sheets and mattress. Due to the weather, the sheets and mattress were not dry: "Oops, I forgot to buy a quilt." I was so sick in the afternoon that I couldn't think of the sheets. thing.

"It looks like I'm really going to sleep on the sofa. Yang Ming, please help me move the sofa and I'll make it flat." Wang Xiaoming said to Yang Ming.

Yang Ming didn't even look at him: "Just sleep with me."

Wang Xiaoming looked at Yang Ming blankly: "Huh? Oh. Okay!"

When sleeping, Wang Xiaoming held his quilt and put it on Yang Ming's bed: "There is no quilt cover, so just cover it like this."

Yang Ming was leaning on the bedside and writing something with a pen. He raised his head and said, "My quilt is wide enough to cover one bed."

Wang Xiaoming shook his head: "That won't work. Ah Bing sometimes doesn't sleep well and it will affect you."

Yang Ming looked at him: "Then he sleeps on the same bed with me. If you catch a cold, don't catch another cold."