The president's pet daughter

night.

As soon as Song Mingzhe opened the door, he smelled a strong fragrance.

He knew that sister-in-law Xiao Beibei came to see Ling Zhaozhao today, and thought that sister-in-law Xiao Beibei hadn't left, so he didn't rush to follow the scent, but slowly put the document bag in his hand on the shoe cabinet.

Unexpectedly, he saw Ling Zhaozhao hopping on one foot in the kitchen.

I saw Ling Zhaozhao wearing a plaster cast, wearing a pink apron around his chest, holding his hand in front of the stew pot, stirring the chicken soup in front of him very hard.

Ling Zhaozhao was still struggling with whether or not he had put salt, but suddenly felt that there was an extra barrier behind him.

"Zhao Zhao, didn't I tell you not to move around?"

Song Mingzhe helplessly supported Ling Zhaozhao, who was struggling, with some worry in his eyes.

She always seems to be so uneasy.

He also knew that Ling Zhaozhao was bored resting at home, so he thought of ways to find some fun for Ling Zhaozhao to relieve boredom.

But after unpacking, he found that Ling Zhaozhao still likes to walk on the ground the most.

"I'm ok."

Ling Zhaozhao supported Song Mingzhe's arm, and slowly turned around, staring at Song Mingzhe with innocent eyes.

"I'm just thinking about how hard you've been working recently, so I want to make you some chicken soup."

Song Mingzhe deliberately supported Ling Zhaozhao's waist so that she would not be hit by the cold marble behind him. Hearing her words, a smile flashed in his eyes.

She will feel distressed now.

After thinking about it, the reason for Ling Zhaozhao's sudden change is what his sister-in-law Xiao Beibei said to her when she came over.

Song Mingzhe's slender fingers unconsciously tapped Ling Zhaozhao's waist, thinking in his heart that Xiao Beibei had to come over a few more times.

Once Xiao Beibei came over, Ling Zhaozhao would boil chicken soup to comfort him.

Didn't Ling Zhaozhao change even more after coming here a few more times?

Ling Zhaozhao didn't know the little things in Song Mingzhe's heart. Seeing that he didn't speak, he thought he was a little upset because of this matter.

"Mingzhe, my hand seems to have been scalded just now, check to see if it is red, or help me fill up the chicken soup."

Ling Zhaozhao raised his white jade-like finger and waved it in front of Song Mingzhe.

Song Mingzhe pursed his lips, really thinking that Ling Zhaozhao had been burned, so he quickly held Ling Zhaozhao's hand.

The moment he felt Song Mingzhe's body temperature, Ling Zhaozhao's brows and eyes curved.

This was her hand that was deliberately covered with heat, just to make Song Mingzhe rub it a few more times when he was holding her.

Sure enough, Song Mingzhe stroked Ling Zhaozhao's hand a few times, and then pressed her palm.

Her hands were originally soft, but now they were warm, and it was hard to put it down.

But Song Mingzhe also noticed that Ling Zhaozhao showed no sign of being burned.

He quickly understood the small thoughts in Ling Zhaozhao's heart.

But he didn't break it, but followed Ling Zhaozhao's words.

"Then I'll do it, you just sit obediently."

Song Mingzhe didn't give Ling Zhaozhao a chance to refuse, but forcefully picked her up and walked straight to the restaurant.

He gently placed Ling Zhaozhao on the chair, his eyes were serious like an upright gentleman, without any sign of wandering.

Ling Zhaozhao was about to say something when he saw Song Mingzhe hurried into the kitchen.

Ling Zhaozhao pouted, and looked down at his chest.

She also deliberately unbuttoned a few more buttons, revealing some fair skin, which could be seen when she lowered her head, but Song Mingzhe seemed to be blind.

It's useless to use these "sultry" tricks that she racked her brains today.

Not long after, Song Mingzhe came over with a pot full of chicken soup.

The chicken soup is golden in color and looks very attractive.

Ling Zhaozhao just looked at this pot of chicken soup for five hours today, and he was already starving at this moment.

Thinking of Song Mingzhe's hard work, she thoughtfully added a lot of supplements to it.

Ling Zhaozhao obediently served Song Mingzhe a bowl of chicken soup. Song Mingzhe looked at the two small ginseng lying in the bowl of soup, and his eyelids twitched involuntarily.

The stewed chicken soup is too nourishing, and I'm not afraid that his blood will be too strong.

"Try it and see if it tastes good. Don't worry, I brewed a lot. You can drink as much as you want."

Ling Zhaozhao said very boldly.

"There are also ginseng, I put a lot of them, so don't worry if you don't have anything to eat."

Ling Zhaozhao patted Song Mingzhe on the shoulder and said firmly.

Song Mingzhe was silent for a moment, it was hard to imagine how excited he would be after drinking this pot of chicken soup tonight.

But after all, it was Ling Zhaozhao's stewed chicken soup, so Song Mingzhe didn't dare to say anything, so he could only drink it under Ling Zhaozhao's expectant eyes.

He took a sip and said without changing his expression.

"good."

Under Ling Zhaozhao's watchful eyes, he took another two sips.

Seeing Song Mingzhe drinking so decisively, Ling Zhaozhao couldn't help feeling elated.

She is indeed a natural kitchen genius, and she cooked chicken soup so well for the first time.

At first, she was thinking about whether to add some seasoning to make it taste better, but now it seems that she is unnecessary.

Ling Zhaozhao was in a good mood and poured himself a bowl of chicken soup, and just after taking a sip, he couldn't help frowning.

"It's so hard to drink..."

Ling Zhaozhao's face was almost distorted.

How would you describe this pot of chicken soup?

The smell is indeed very fragrant, but there is no chicken smell in the soup at all, but the taste of various tonics.

Bitter and astringent, it feels like drinking Chinese medicine.

But Song Mingzhe at the side seemed unmoved, and drank a few more sips under Ling Zhaozhao's gaze.

"It's delicious."

He said sincerely.

The corner of Ling Zhaozhao's mouth twitched involuntarily.

If she hadn't tasted it herself, she might really believe Song Mingzhe's words.

"Stop coaxing me, don't drink this bowl of soup, I'll make it for you next time..."

Ling Zhaozhao wanted to cry without tears and wanted to snatch the bowl of chicken soup from Song Mingzhe's hand, but he didn't expect Song Mingzhe to hold his wrist instead.

"It's delicious, Zhao Zhao."

His deep voice poured out slowly from between his lips and tongue, his eyes were fixed on Ling Zhaozhao, and there was only her reflection in his eyes.

"As long as Zhaozhao does it, I feel fine."

Song Mingzhe said word by word.

The chicken soup that Ling Zhaozhao made for him with his own hands, even if the king of heaven came, he would still say it was delicious.

It is not difficult to make soup, but it is difficult to be sincere.

He likes Ling Zhaozhao's sincerity towards him, so he loves Wujiwu.

Looking into Song Mingzhe's eyes, Ling Zhaozhao couldn't help being shocked.

She suddenly felt that even if she boiled a bowl of poison for him, he would still drink it.

There was still the temperature of Song Mingzhe's fingertips on her wrist, which was as hot as his heart.

Ling Zhaozhao pursed his lips, facing such a sincere Song Mingzhe, it would be a lie to say that he was not moved.