chapter 2

Fan Xing rubbed his sore cheeks and looked back at He Qingmo's back, feeling a little dazed for a while.

Why does this person seem to be different from what he imagined? It feels a little childish.

He thought that someone like He Qingmo would be angry, and the consequences would be more serious, but he turned out to be like a child playing with anger.

Fan Xing felt that his brain might be broken. How could a domineering president like He Qingmo have such a side? I must be too nervous and hallucinating!

He didn't think about it anymore, put the cold noodles on the table in the refrigerator, and planned to keep it for tomorrow's breakfast.

Then I picked up the phone and typed the sentence on the note again with pinyin, and compared it with what I wrote, and found that he did not write it wrong at all!

He Qingmo actually lied to him!

Fan Xing's nose wrinkled slightly unconsciously, and suddenly began to compete with himself.

On the table, there happened to be half of the water that He Qingmo had drank before. He directly dipped his finger in the water and started copying it on the dining table with his mobile phone.

He was born in an English-speaking context. He has never learned Chinese seriously. Only his grandmother can speak Chinese. It is not standard Mandarin, but a southern dialect.

His current Chinese is from Chinese TV series when he was a child, because his grandmother likes to watch it. Later, when grew up, didn't have much time to accompany grandmother, so had fewer opportunities to learn Chinese.

Originally, he couldn't use it, and it didn't matter whether he learned or not.

But obviously, it's not enough to not learn it now.

He wasn't angry that He Qingmo lied to him to compete, he knew that He Qingmo was not malicious. It was only through this incident that he realized that he could not be the same as before, holding an attitude of learning Chinese or not.

He has a characteristic. When he is concentrating on one thing, he is very devoted and forgets everything.

So when a big skeletal hand stretched out from behind to hold his hand, he was shocked to realize that He Qingmo had stood behind him at some point.

He subconsciously wanted to pull his hand back, but he was caught even tighter, and was glared at him, "Concentrate on practicing calligraphy!" After speaking, He Qingmo grabbed his hand and wrote "Night" stroke by stroke. Character.

In all fairness, it's beautifully written. Especially when placed next to the piece of crooked melon and cracked jujube written by Fan Xing himself, it is simply pleasing to the eye to the extreme.

But Fan Xing didn't have the heart to appreciate it, his body was stiff and he didn't dare to move.

The distance between the two was so close that he could clearly smell the fragrance of the shower gel on He Qingmo's body. He was afraid that if he moved a little, he would lean into the man's arms.

The man didn't seem to be able to see his embarrassment and stiffness, and he said indifferently, "Is your uncle teaching bad?"

ah?

Fan Xing didn't understand, and subconsciously turned around to meet the man's eyes before he realized that the man was still thinking about his slip of the tongue just now.

Fan Xing also felt a little guilty. After all, it was the people he said wrong that made people unhappy, and he should be responsible.

So he breathed a sigh of relief and lowered his head: "I actually wanted to call... old... husband's."

The sound was so small that it was barely audible.

However, the two were too close, so they did not escape He Qingmo's ears.

The man's eyes sank slightly, and then he laughed silently. He pinched the boy's red bloody earlobe lightly, and said with a smile, "It sounds good, let's shout again!"