Mr. Xiang, your doctor's wife is a little poisonous

Chapter 15
The warm porridge enters the taste buds, as if every inch is warm, so warm that people forget all the cold.

Song Wanzhi held the bowl and stopped after eating two large bowls. She felt her articulate and indescribably good taste.

After dinner, Su Mengchen packed up and took Song Wanzhi down the mountain. Although the road was blocked by heavy snow, Su Mengchen still found a trail in the white snow. Xiaobai followed behind, the same color as the snow. If you don't look carefully, you can't see it at all.

Looking at the rugged path in front of him, Su Mengchen handed over the old umbrella in his hand, and said, "Girl just hold on to this umbrella."

Song Wanzhi looked at the umbrella handle and the end he was holding, lowered his eyes slightly, then stretched out his hand, and held it gently.

In fact, she doesn't need it, the rugged mountain road is nothing to her, but, for some reason, when she looked at the old umbrella, the rough and even cracked umbrella handle made her feel an inexplicable ripple , Then, I can't refuse, and I don't want to refuse.

The man was walking in front, stopping every few steps, and carefully took her down. He walked very slowly, but very steadily, with a gentle and mellow voice, reminding her carefully all the way.

After walking for half a day, I finally walked out of this steep mountain.

Looking at the no longer rough road in front of him, Su Mengchen said: "I'll send the girl here, it's not far from Yangzhen."

As he spoke, he handed the basket he was carrying to Song Wanzhi.

Song Wanzhi picked it up, and seemed to be able to feel the temperature he left on the basket: "Thank you."

Su Mengchen shook her head.

Song Wanzhi took a step forward, then paused, and turned to look at him: "My little girl would take the liberty to ask a question, may I?"

"Girl, please tell me." Su Mengchen said.

Song Wanzhi smiled: "Dare to ask the young master's name?"

Su Mengchen paused for a moment, and then said: "...if the girl doesn't mind, just call me Meng Chen. Meng of Confucius and Mencius, Shen of Chenxiang."

Song Wanzhi read the word "Meng Chen" lightly, and then smiled slowly: "I, Wanzhi. The night of the night, Zhihezhi."

Su Mengchen smiled slightly, and then passed the old umbrella in her hand: "Miss Wanzhi, you can use this umbrella, there may be wind and snow on the road ahead, please cherish it."

"Then, what about you?" Song Wanzhi remembered that there was only one umbrella in his room.

Su Mengchen said: "This umbrella is only made by myself on weekdays, but it is still strong. I will just make another one."

Song Wanzhi looked at the umbrella and his hand on the umbrella, smiled, and reached out to take it.

The umbrella handle is slightly rough, but it is thick.

"See you by fate. Mr. Meng, take care." Song Wanzhi said.

But we probably won't see each other again.

"It's fate, goodbye." Su Mengchen smiled.

Song Wanzhi took the umbrella and glanced at him again before turning around and stepping into the snow, leaving a shallow trace.

Seeing the figure of the girl gradually moving away, only a vague shadow fell in the snow.

He raised his hand, remembering that he had brushed her fingertips when he handed her the basket just now.

"Aww." The little fox jumped onto his shoulder and looked at the place where Song Wanzhi disappeared.

Su Mengchen murmured: "Are you also reluctant to part with her?"

Xiaobai snorted.

It's obviously you, don't pretend, master, your heart has sprouted.

There was a faint light in Su Mengchen's eyes.

"Three years, outside, I don't know what it looks like."

(End of this chapter)