Because she was addicted

Lu Chenyan held up his phone to show Wen Jia.

The movie playing on my phone is a very popular American blockbuster.

He slightly raised his head, a flattering smile on his handsome face, just like the two of them used to chat sweetly about what to do next while eating.

Wen Jia's eyes ached from looking at it, and her heart ached even more.

"I'm busy."

She left a comment and turned to go into the kitchen.

The electric slow cooker was simmering soup made from a freshly slaughtered old hen that she bought early this morning at the market, along with various nourishing medicinal herbs. It had been simmering on low heat all morning.

Seeing that it was almost time, she opened the lid, and a fragrant aroma immediately filled the air.

Lu Chenyan, who was in the living room, also smelled the aroma and immediately wiped his mouth while peeking in.

"What did you stew that smells so good? Can I have a bowl?"

"roll!"

Wen Jia had been simmering the soup all morning, and it wasn't going to be given to Lu Chenyan for free.

The ingredients for the soup were given to her by her next-door neighbor, and I must say, the quality was top-notch; the soup turned out incredibly fresh and delicious. She plans to ask her neighbor where they bought the ingredients next time they move in.

She took out a soup spoon and slowly skimmed off the layer of oil floating on the surface of the soup, because Wen Zhao and Wen Lin couldn't eat anything too greasy.

Take out a thermos and fill it with the soup, leaving the rest in the pot to continue heating.

On weekends, Wen Jia's life almost entirely revolves around Wen Zhao and Wen Lin.

At noon, Wen Jia wanted to go to the rehabilitation hospital to see Wen Zhao first.

Seeing that he wasn't getting anything good out of Wen Jia, Lu Chenyan pouted and went back to eating his noodles.

After finishing his meal, he casually grabbed a tissue to wipe the table, then unfastened his watch with his long, slender fingers and tossed the million-dollar watch onto the table with a thud, showing no mercy whatsoever.

Then, while rolling up his shirt sleeves to reveal his strong, pale wrists, he squeezed into the kitchen with a bowl of noodles in his hand, turned on the tap, and started washing the dishes.

Wen Jia glanced sideways.

These used to be basic operations.

Since Lu Chenyan moved into her house, she has basically never washed the dishes. Every time, Lu Chenyan insists on washing them, saying that her hands are so fair and delicate, how could she do such rough work?

"No hot water?"

Lu Chenyan asked as he washed the inkstone.

Wen Jia snapped out of her reverie.

"If you're cold, you don't have to wash it. Just leave it there. I'll clean it up when I get back this afternoon."

The house uses a gas water heater, but because it's so old, the hot water is always very slow. The gas fan roars for a long time after it's been on, but the hot water still hasn't come out. In that time, she could have already washed one or two dishes.

There's no way to take a shower at night.

You have to fill the tub with water in advance, and the hot water will arrive much later than you think, usually after filling a whole bucket.

Save the collected water; you can use it during the day to water flowers, wash clothes, and mop the floor.

Wen Jia is used to it.

Lu Chenyan frowned, said nothing more, and buried himself in washing the bowls clean and wiping the water stains off the edge of the sink.

Wen Jia pretended to be busy serving soup, but in reality, she kept an eye on his every move out of the corner of her eye.

Lu Chenyan used to wash dishes without paying attention to anything else.

After washing the dishes, I forgot to wipe the sink and tidy up the countertop.

She taught him several times because of this.

"The dishes are washed, the countertops are wiped, the sink is cleaned, and the trash is taken care of. Where are you going later? I'll give you a ride."

Suddenly, Lu Chenyan turned around.

Wen Jia quickly bent down and filled the jars.

"No need, you can go."

Two water stains were visible on the thighs of Lu Chenyan's suit trousers, near the sink. Wen Jia glanced at them and her face flushed instantly.

"You...you're wet down there."

She kindly reminded him.

"where?"

Lu Chenyan looked down and saw it too.

The next second, Wen Jia walked out of the kitchen and casually tossed a towel over.

Lu Chenyan accepted it.

Pink and soft.

It carried the unique, faint fragrance of Wenjia.

He held it in his hand and stood frozen in place for two seconds.

The unexpected concern surprised and touched him, and his blood immediately warmed up.

Wen Jia, no matter how stubborn she was, still cared about herself.

I'm afraid he'll freeze to death outside if he gets drunk, so I'll cook noodles for him when he's hungry, and hand him a towel if his pants get wet.

Holding the towel in his hand, he didn't immediately use it to wipe his pants. Instead, he held it under his nose and took a deep sniff.

The delicate fragrance lingered in my nostrils.

The next second, my body reacted immediately.

Looking up, I saw that Wen Jia had already changed her shoes and gone out.

Wen Jia stood by the door and saw Lu Chenyan standing in the living room like a statue, smiling at her aunt who was wiping her hands, his neck and ears red to the point of being irritating.

She rolled her eyes, turned around, and walked into the stairwell.

Lu Chenyan didn't care about his pants anymore. He grabbed his coat from the sofa and his watch from the dining table. He looked at the towel in his hand, thought for a moment, and then casually stuffed it into his pants pocket.

"Wait for me."

He chased after him.

The sun is shining brightly outside, but it's still cold.

Wen Jia was wearing a down jacket and a scarf, so she didn't feel anything. But Lu Chenyan was in trouble; in order to look cool, he only wore a thin shirt and suit. He was in such a hurry that he didn't even take his coat.

I hadn't felt it when I was at Wen Jia's house, but now, with the cold wind blowing, my nose is all red. The two wet patches on my thighs are even colder, and the skin pressed against them is incredibly uncomfortable.

I hadn't walked more than a few steps out of the building when I started sneezing.

Why are you following me?

Wen Jia stopped in her tracks.

Behind him, Lu Chenyan, with his hands in his pockets and huddled up, nearly lost control of the brakes and crashed into Wen Jia.

"Jiajia, are you going to see Wen Zhao? I'll take you."

"No need."

Wen Jia found it rather comical that Lu Chenyan, whose nose was red and who was actually freezing to death but was still trying to maintain his composure.

She walked quickly outside the residential area and got into a ride-hailing car.

Lu Chenyan turned around and quickly returned to room 102, where Lu Chuan and Lu Ming were still waiting for him.

"The floor of Wen Jia's house is moldy and rotten. You should find a way to replace it for her. The first floor is too damp, so you should also do some damp-proofing while you're at it. Also, please solve the problem of using hot water."

Lu Chenyan stepped into the room; the temperature difference was quite large, and he couldn't help but shiver.

But I still remembered to take care of Wen Jia's matter first.

Seeing his expression, Lu Chuan quickly grabbed his coat and handed it to him.

"Yes, Second Young Master. I've got it all in mind. Hurry up and put your clothes on, or you'll catch a cold."

Dressed like this so early in the morning, I thought she was going to a fashion show.

It turns out they were going to show off their feathers to the magpie.

Lu Chuan felt a pang of sympathy.

……

Half an hour later, Wen Jia entered the ward of the rehabilitation hospital.

As she stepped out of the elevator, she caught a glimpse of a red figure flashing past the door of the ward.

Her walking posture and clothing style are very similar to Pan Mei's.

She hurried after him, but his figure had already disappeared into the fire escape.

She opened the door and found only two cleaning men squatting at the top of the stairs smoking.

"Has someone been here just now?"

Wen Jia entered the ward and saw Wen Zhao lying on the hospital bed eating an apple.

"No!"

Wen Zhao subconsciously denied it, her eyes darting away.

"No? Then who peeled your apple?"

Wen Jia pointed to the apple in Wen Zhao's hand. There were still apple peels in the trash can, and the fruit knife was still on the bedside table, not yet washed.

"I peeled it myself!"

Wen Zhao spoke without hesitation.

"You can move your hand now?" Wen Jia stared into his eyes.