These past few days, he's been lying in bed with his body aching, and whether it's the female educated youths from the station or the village girls, they've all brought him plenty of food.
The fish soup in front of him was something Zhao Weihong traded with a fellow villager for.
"Wen Zhqing, be careful or the soup will spill." Zhao Weihong's eyes were quick, instinctively reaching out to steady the bowl, accidentally brushing Wen Zhqing's cool fingertips; her face flushed red and she quickly pulled back.
She told Wen Zhqing to hold the bowl steady, but with her face red, she lowered her head, savoring the feeling of just touching Wen Zhqing's hand, her heart blooming with delight.
Wen Zhqing thanked her, not noticing anything strange about Zhao Weihong, lowered his head and drank the soup, mind replaying what Zhao Weihong had just said.
Zhao Weihong had relayed the village gossip from the past couple of days, including everything Gu Jia Ning told her when they met.
