The carefree life of Yang Shuisheng, the village miracle doctor

Her hair had been combed again, with a few stray strands falling across her forehead and swaying gently in the evening breeze.

She seemed to have applied something to her face, making her look fairer than during the day, and her lips had an unnatural redness, as if she had secretly applied some homemade lip rouge.

Her eyes were watery and fixed on Yang Shuisheng, her gaze undisguisedly fiery.

"Dr. Yang, you really are home." When Wu Xiaohe saw Yang Shuisheng, a bright smile immediately appeared on her face. She leaned forward slightly, and the fragrance of a mature woman became even stronger. "Didn't I say during the day that I would bring you a bowl of chicken soup later? Thank you for treating me."

"Look, it's still warm!"

As she spoke, she handed the bamboo basket in her hand forward.

When it was handed over, the arm was raised a little high, and the sleeves of the thin floral shirt were pulled up a bit, revealing a section of pale wrist.

The fabric of the shirt stretched taut with the movement, making her heavy, full breasts stand out even more, almost bursting out of the shirt and swaying in front of Yang Shuisheng.

Yang Shuisheng subconsciously took a small step back, unsure whether to accept the offer or not.

He hadn't forgotten his embarrassing experience at the doctor's office during the day. It just seemed odd that Wu Xiaohe was dressed like this late at night to deliver chicken soup.

"Sister-in-law Xiaohe, you're too kind."

"It was just a small favor, really no need..." Yang Shuisheng tried to decline.

"Oh, Dr. Yang, don't be so polite with me." Wu Xiaohe didn't wait for a reply and directly stuffed the bamboo basket into Yang Shuisheng's hands. Her fingers accidentally touched the back of Yang Shuisheng's hand, which was a little cool and slippery. "It's just a bowl of chicken soup, nothing precious."

"I raised my own chicken, and I stewed it all afternoon. It smells amazing."

"Try it, it'll help you recover!"

As she spoke, she took another half step forward, almost touching Yang Shuisheng, while handing him the basket. The rich fragrance wafted into Yang Shuisheng's nose.

Yang Shuisheng could even see the slight redness on her earlobes.

"Look, I've already brought it to the door, you can't expect me to carry it all back, can you? It's so heavy!" Wu Xiaohe looked at Yang Shuisheng expectantly, her voice soft and sweet, "How about... Dr. Yang, you let me come in and sit down?"

"I'll pour out the chicken soup for you, but I'll take this basket back with me."

The way he said it made it sound like he just wanted to go in, pour some soup, and get his basket back.

But her eyes, her posture, and her body that was almost touching him all hinted at something else.

Seeing Wu Xiaohe's attitude of "I won't leave until you let me in," Yang Shuisheng felt both helpless and wary.

He was reluctant to let this obviously strange woman into the house, but what she said made perfect sense: she brought him soup, poured it out, and took back the basket.

Standing guard at the door would only make you appear guilty or unapproachable.

"Alright, Sister-in-law Xiaohe, come in and pour out the chicken soup."

He stepped aside slightly, clearing the doorway: "But it's getting late, so I won't keep you any longer after I've poured the soup."

"Okay!" Wu Xiaohe's smile widened, her eyes curving into crescents. She quickly grabbed the empty basket and slipped into the yard, her movements so light and quick as if she were afraid Yang Shuisheng would change his mind.

Yang Shuisheng closed the door and went back to the main room.

The room was dark, but Wu Xiaohe seemed completely unconcerned about the darkness, finding the atmosphere just right.

"Dr. Yang, please sit down and drink it while it's hot!"

She skillfully placed the empty basket on the table, then took the earthenware pot containing chicken soup from Yang Shuisheng, urging, "This chicken soup tastes best when it's hot; it'll taste fishy when it's cold."

Yang Shuisheng sat down at the table as instructed.

Wu Xiaohe deftly took out a large, rough porcelain bowl from the cupboard and poured out the steaming, fragrant chicken soup from the earthenware pot.

The chicken soup was golden brown, with a thin layer of oil floating on top. Inside were several large pieces of tender, stewed chicken, a few red dates, and goji berries.

"Here, have a taste."

Wu Xiaohe placed the bowl in front of Yang Shuisheng, then stood by the table, her hands resting on the edge, her body slightly leaning forward, her eyes fixed on Yang Shuisheng, the expectation and fervor in her gaze almost tangible.

Yang Shuisheng felt a little uncomfortable under her gaze, but the aroma of the chicken soup was indeed tempting. Compared to the dinner at Guo Cuihong's house, this was much more juicy. He didn't think much of it, picked up the bowl, blew on the steam, and took a sip.

The soup was rich and delicious from the first sip, with the natural sweetness of the chicken and the subtle sweetness of the red dates and goji berries. It was indeed well-cooked.

The chicken is so tender that it falls apart when picked up with chopsticks, indicating it has been stewed until very soft.

"Mmm, it tastes great. Sister-in-law Xiaohe, your cooking is really good." Yang Shuisheng nodded, praising her honestly, and then ate heartily.

The chicken was stewed until very tender and melted in his mouth, which suited his taste perfectly.

"I'm glad you like it! Eat more, there's still some in the jar." Seeing him eating so heartily, Wu Xiaohe's smile became even sweeter, and she leaned forward, almost touching Yang Shuisheng's arm.

The scent of a mature woman emanating from her seemed to intensify under the rising steam of the chicken soup, wafting into Yang Shuisheng's nose in delicate wisps.

Yang Shuisheng was focused on eating chicken and drinking soup, and didn't pay attention at first.

But as he ate, he gradually felt that something was wrong.

My body inexplicably started to feel hot, not the kind of heat that comes after exercise, but a kind of restless heat rising from the bottom of my heart and deep in my lower abdomen.

The heat came suddenly and intensely, causing his heart to beat faster for no apparent reason, and his breathing to become heavier.

Even his forehead started to sweat.

"Dr. Yang, did you drink too much and make it too hot?" Wu Xiaohe's voice rang out from the side, with a hint of coaxing, "This chicken soup is good for your health, and it's easy to feel hot after drinking it."

"Look, you're all sweaty... Why don't you take off your coat? It'll be cooler."

As she spoke, she actually reached out and pretended to help Yang Shuisheng unbutton his T-shirt.

Those cool fingers lightly touched Yang Shuisheng's neck skin.

"Need not!"

Yang Shuisheng's body stiffened abruptly, as if he had been electrocuted. He instinctively leaned back, dodging her hand, and said in a somewhat stiff tone, "I...I'm not hot, I'm fine like this."

He said he wasn't hot, but sweat was pouring down his forehead even more, and the heat was getting stronger, making him somewhat irritable.

And he found that something seemed off about how he looked at things.

His gaze swept over Wu Xiaohe, landing on her neckline, which had drooped even lower as she bent over. The expanse of snow-white skin and the deep cleavage made his throat go dry, and a certain part of his body reacted uncontrollably.

Something's not right!

Something's definitely not right!

He cultivates the "Hehuan Nourishing Qi Technique," giving him far superior control over his own qi and blood. Even after drinking nourishing chicken soup, he shouldn't have such a strong and uncontrollable physiological reaction, unless...

A terrible thought flashed through my mind.

There's something wrong with this chicken soup!

He suddenly looked up at Wu Xiaohe.

Wu Xiaohe's heart skipped a beat when he looked at her, but a deeper blush quickly spread across her face, reaching all the way down to her neck. Her eyes became more dreamy and watery, filled with a sense of longing and triumph.

Instead of backing down, she met Yang Shuisheng's gaze and bit her lower lip, as if she had made up her mind.

Then, to Yang Shuisheng's astonishment, she actually reached out her slightly trembling hand and gently pulled the collar of her left floral shirt. Slowly, with a deliberate allure and shyness, she pulled the thin fabric down below her shoulder.

A smooth, rounded, dazzlingly white shoulder was instantly exposed to the dim light.

Her skin shimmered with a delicate glow in the dim light, her collarbones were beautifully defined, and below that were the thin straps of her red tank top and the full, voluptuous edges of her breasts, which were almost spilling out.

Wu Xiaohe's face turned as red as if it were about to bleed, her breathing became rapid, and her chest heaved violently.

She turned her head slightly, bringing her bare, warm, and fragrant shoulder to Yang Shuisheng's lips, and said in an almost inaudible voice, filled with shame and longing, "Dr. Yang... Sister-in-law... Sister-in-law is a little itchy here, could you... give me a kiss?"