The two parties sat down, with a bowl of noodles with eggs in front of them. Yan Han lowered his head and glanced at the contents of the bowl with a look of surprise.
The sales look pretty good.
Song Xiang also feels very proud. If she continues at this rate, she is expected to get rid of the title of kitchen waste this year.
Across from him, Yan Han picked up his chopsticks, picked up the noodles, and put them into his mouth.
Song Xiang didn't eat and secretly glanced at Yan Han's expression.
As soon as Yan Han put the noodles into his mouth, his eyebrows slowly tightened in the next second.
Song Xiang was heartbroken and asked uncertainly: "What's wrong?"
Yan Han swallowed the food in his mouth with difficulty, then put down his chopsticks, "Are you sure this looks familiar?"
Song Xiang recalled the process of cooking noodles and felt a little guilty. She picked up a noodle and pinched it off.
Sure enough, the noodles are still raw.
She laughed dryly twice and said hello to Yan Han: "Wait a moment."
After saying that, he quickly ran to the kitchen.
Yan Han watched her take out two small pot lids, one covering her own bowl and the other covering his bowl.
"Don't worry, it will be cooked after simmering for a while."
Yan Han: "..."
This is pasta, not instant noodles!
But he probably said it all in vain. The woman opposite did not lack any skill in cooking, but had no skill at all.
Song Xiang didn't panic, put his hands on the table, bit his chopsticks, and waited.
They are all the same, taking different paths to the same destination, no matter how far they go.
While waiting, she was still in the mood to exchange work experience with Yan Han and wanted to take the opportunity to learn from him.
Yan Han closed his eyes and fell asleep, with an attitude of "don't listen to the idiot reciting sutras".
Song Xiang kept talking alone for a long time. When she realized that Yan Han had no intention of speaking, she shut her mouth in a sullen voice.
"Mr. Yan, how are you injured?"
Yan Han: "Thanks to you, I can't die."
Song Xiang: "..."
Both sides were speechless.
Song Xiang felt embarrassed and asked casually: "If you need medicine, you can come to me."
She estimated that Yan Han would not ask her to take medicine, after all, he refused that day.
Unexpectedly, Yan Han suddenly opened his eyes and said calmly: "Okay."
Song Xiang: "Ah?"
Yan Han: "The medicine is in my bedroom."
Song Xiang's mouth twitched, "Oh... okay!"
She spoke too loudly and accidentally hit her throat. Her throat hurt, and she had to get up quickly to help Yan Han get medicine.
The severe cold injury on his back was serious. In addition to topical medicine, he also had a bunch of oral medicine.
Song Xiang came out with the medicine box and flipped through it casually. It was a bit messy.
Yan Han turned his back to her and said, "Yan Song has an explanation."
Song Xiang said "Oh" and saw a note beside him.
She wondered in her heart that Yan Song always went to the hospital to change his dressing. Why did Yan Song need to explain it? Didn't Yan Han go to the hospital these past few days to change his dressing?
While he was wondering, Yan Han had already begun to unbutton his collar.
Song Xiang stood aside, inexplicably nervous, and couldn't help but catch a glimpse of Yan Han unbuttoning his buttons, one by one, until the end.
He took off his shirt, exposing the injury on his back.
The gauze has been removed, and there are wounds on the back as big as the palms of two adult men. They have just formed light scabs, and there is still blood in some places.
Song Xiang looked at the wound and felt something was wrong. It seemed that the treatment was too rough. Some places had medicine and some did not. It didn't look like the work of a professional.
"I'll help you with a simple cleaning first, and then apply the medicine."
Yan Han responded calmly.
Song Xiang took out the contents of the medicine box and carefully wiped the dirt on the wound with alcohol cotton. Then he mixed various potions and applied them little by little.
Yan Han didn't hum the whole time and had no expression on his face.
After applying the medicine, he put on his clothes without even waiting for drying.
Song Xiang was stunned, thinking that this was too rough, and then thought of another thing.
"What do you do when you take a shower?"
Yan Han turned his head and glanced at her inexplicably, "You don't know how to take a shower?"
Song Xiang understood and breathed in shock, "You just wash it?"
Yan Han said nothing.
Song Xiang took the thing and didn't know what to say for a moment. The infection was originally caused by getting into the water, but this guy actually washed it directly.
"Seawater can cause infection. Rinse with clean water and dry quickly. It won't be a big problem." Yan Han answered Song Xiang's question with a few words.
Song Xiang still couldn't accept it, "If you continue like this, you won't be able to get better for half a year."
No wonder it's been four days and some of the wounds haven't scabbed yet. This guy is simply seeking death.
Yan Han frowned and said angrily: "Don't you want to take a shower?"
Song Xiang: "You don't know how to wipe?"
Yan Han turned his head with a disgusted expression, unable to express himself in a word.
Song Xiang was speechless. How on earth could such a person survive? He couldn't bear such a trivial matter.
"You'd better not wash tonight, at least not your upper body."
Yan Han: "Impossible."
Song Xiang: "..."
Okay, you won’t accept communication, right?
Song Xiang stopped talking and turned around to pack his things.
Sensing her dissatisfaction, Yan Han groaned in his heart, actually feeling that he had gotten the better of the situation.
Song Xiang sent the things back to Yan Han's room without showing any signs of strangeness on his face. He seemed not to be affected by the incident just now, but instead opened the lid of the pot first.