His Wife Calls The Shots

Chapter 87

Qiao Shiwan smiled happily: "This is Ah Xian's font, it's his."

As she said that, she looked at Qian Miao with ambiguous eyes: "Go back, don't let my brother wait, he doesn't like eating alone."

"You're not going?"

Qiao Shiwan smiled a little more shyly than before: "Your uncle has already prepared it for me, so I'll go back and eat."

"Come on, go to school after dinner. By the way, we are going to worship his grandma today. After worshipping, we have to go to the temple to pray for blessings. It will take a little longer. If you come back and feel hungry, Just eat first, don't wait for us."

"it is good."

As soon as they approached the villa, Qian Miao smelled the tempting aroma of sauce.

Approximate seasonings are quickly discerned.

There are carrots.

Walking in, she soon saw shredded radish in the pasta that had been placed on the table.

Mixed with pasta sauce, it looks delicious.

Next to him, Feng Xian was carefully wiping the tableware, his knuckles were slender, slightly skinny, and very beautiful.

"Wash your hands." He didn't look over.

Qian Miao didn't say anything, and went to wash her hands silently.

After sitting down, in addition to some shredded radishes than Feng Xian, she also had a glass of milk on her plate.

"I don't want to drink milk now." She moved the milk to him.

The weather was sultry, but the milk was warm.

Feng Xian glanced at the glass of milk, "Do you think I can drink it?"

"Don't like it?" Qian Miao glanced at him, "You smell like milk, I thought you liked it."

The string-sealing joints are slightly raised, and the complexion looks complicated.

The next second, the glass of milk returned to Qian Miao's hand.

"I don't like to drink milk, and there is no milk smell on my body." He explained softly.

Qian Miao looked at him, her lips moved, and the next second, she said, "Forget it."

She didn't want to spend time explaining such insignificant things.

With a fork in his hand, Feng Xian picked up the noodles, but didn't put it into his mouth.

Eyes that were as deep as pools of water, as if unintentional, frequently looked at Qian Miao.

She forked a handful of noodles, entrained a few shredded radishes, and put them into her mouth to eat.

Suddenly, she stopped chewing.

Noticing that she was looking at her, Feng Xian ate the noodles indifferently.

"It smells weird?" he asked softly.

After Tang Qianmi finished eating that mouthful, he said casually, "It's alright, I just feel familiar. It tastes similar to the braised pork you ate in the temple that year."

The strings stopped.

After a while, he said, "You still remember."

"Well, it's delicious."

"My grandma made it."

Qian Mi nodded, not very surprised, because she already knew that Grandma Feng was a gourmet and loved her grandson, so it was not surprising to do it herself.

"I'll do it too," he said.

"Oh."

Qian Miao responded casually, took out her mobile phone, and clicked on the comic website.

Feng Xian saw that she didn't respond, and said, "Drink the milk."

"Don't drink."

"Eat this." He moved a plate of cut fruit in front of her.

Qian Miao didn't say anything, she stretched out her hand to pick up a slice of apple and ate it, her eyes still staring at the phone screen.

Feng Xian didn't speak any more. After two mouthfuls of noodles, he silently picked up the glass of milk and drank it.

When Qian Miao raised her eyes, the glass of milk had bottomed out, and the milky white was against the wall of the glass, slowly flowing to the bottom of the glass.

There was a little bit of interest in the eyes she looked at him.

"You are quite arrogant."

Feng Xian almost choked, and with calm eyes, a wave of "blood and blood rain" started, "What?"

Qian Miao raised her eyebrows and flicked her slender fingers on the empty milk cup twice, which was self-evident.

"Eat well, hard work." She said, and got up.

Feng Xian put down his fork, his face a little ugly.