Cannon Fodder Is King [Transmigration]

As soon as I walked in, I almost blurted out, Xie Bowen was short of breath and exclaimed: "Dad, you, how did you become like this?"

When he interrupted this way, Meng Zezhi's right hand flicked slightly, and the pen tip was drawn from the narrow yellow talisman paper onto the table. He looked at the originally radiant talisman paper and instantly lost its spirituality and dimmed. Meng Zezhi felt suddenly. Somewhat dispirited.

He put aside the pen, took the wet towel next to him and wiped his hands while chewing on the ginseng: "Why are you back today when you have time? The filming in the US is over?"

"How can it be so fast? Didn't I hear that you had an accident? I skipped work and rushed back. Are you better now?" Xie Bowen's expression of concern was not pretending.

Although Xie Guangsheng's behavior is not good, his son is indeed well-raised, three views are upright and filial. With a handsome face that completely inherited the advantages of Xie Guangsheng, it looks particularly pleasing to the eye.

Meng Zezhi tried his best to imitate Xie Guangsheng's tone: "It's getting better, I don't need you to worry about it here. Just do what you should do. If you have a good life, I will feel at ease..."

"Dad, things are not in a hurry at this time." Xie Bowen looked helpless. He kept his dad from using the topic and continued to talk, and quickly changed the subject: "By the way, I brought you a gift."

Hearing this, Xie Bowen's assistant quickly took out a paper box from a pile of bags in his hand and handed it to him.

Xie Bowen took the paper box, opened it as if offering a treasure, and sent it to Meng Zezhi.

"When I was in Los Angeles, I met Mr. Zhang Zhiping, a famous fan maker based in the United States and Shanghai. I didn’t expect his daughter to be a fan of mine. Isn’t this thinking that you love to play with fans, so I licked my face to Mr. Zhang I beg for it, look at it!"

Meng Zezhi took the fan and unfolded it. He only heard Xie Bowen continue to say: "The bone of this fan is made of sandalwood, the fan is made of bamboo by Mr. Li Chuanbo, and the script is written by Mr. Liu Jiasheng."

Li Chuanbo and Liu Jiasheng are well-known contemporary painters and calligraphers.

Meng Ze knows how to understand this. The predecessor played with a fan purely for arty and pretentiousness, not really like it.

He tried to shook the fan and stroked the little goatee on his chin, feeling that it was not bad.

"Not bad." Meng Zezhi praised sincerely.

"It's fine if you like it." Xie Bowen smiled, and then hesitated: "But, Dad, what's the matter, why did you become like this?"

Meng Zezhi shook his fan: "This is a long story. Your father, I am a blessing in disguise. I was so scared by a ghost and opened my mind. You don't have to worry about my face. You will go back after raising it for a few days."

As he said, he patted Xie Bowen on the shoulder and made an expression of excitement: "Son, when your dad and my skills become stronger, we father and son will no longer have to look at other people's faces to live."

"Really?" Xie Bowen was skeptical. He had accepted materialism from an early age, and he grew up watching Xie Guangsheng abducted and deceived.

Meng Zezhi said that these were originally intended to prepare Xie Bowen, and it doesn't matter whether he believes it or not.

He only said: "By the way, you don't have to deal with Wan Ziqing anymore."

Xie Bowen's face changed slightly, and he was silent: "Is she really killing Wan Zihuai?"

"Well, knowing people, knowing the face and not knowing the heart, this is a lesson." Meng Zezhi said.

Xie Bowen gave a wry smile: "I see."

In other words, Wan Ziqing is his half-sister, and in the past two years, she hasn't walked less, saying that it is impossible to have no feelings.

But when I remembered what Wan Ziqing had done, he was disappointed and sad, adding nothing but a grievance.

While talking, Duan Congyan knocked on the door and walked in.

Xie Bowen instantly became cautious: "Uncle Duan."

"Yeah." Duan Congyan nodded slightly at him, then looked at Meng Zezhi: "I'll pick you up and leave the hospital."

"Isn't there Chen An and others? Why did you come here in person?" Meng Zezhi said as he lifted the quilt on his body.

Chen An is the driver and bodyguard assigned by Duan Congyan to him.

Duan Congyan's eyebrows drooped slightly: "It just happens to be free."

In fact, he was just a ghostly reminder that Meng Zezhi was discharged from the hospital today, and he left work early.

Meng Ze knew whether he was there, got out of bed and packed up his things.

Seeing Xie Bowen, he quickly stepped forward to help.

There are not many things Meng Ze knows, two sets of clothes for washing, a set of tools for drawing symbols, a shaped seal of symbols, and a box of wild ginseng aged between 20 and 30 years old.

——He asked Han Daqin to find this box of wild ginseng. There are more than 20 roots. Now I have eaten half of it. Thanks to this box of wild ginseng, less than four days have passed, and Meng Zezhi's injury is almost healed.

After packing up the things, the three of them went straight back home.

When it was almost time for dinner, the sixth aunt who was in charge of cooking suddenly ran out of the kitchen and said that her husband had been in a car accident and was being rescued. She was anxious and wanted to see the hospital.

Duan Congyan agreed, and then the three of them looked at the empty dining table in unison.

"Or, order a takeaway!" Xie Bowen suggested, sucking in his stomach.

He drove a day's journey today and didn't eat much for lunch, so he was counting on this meal to save his life in the evening.

"When the takeaway is delivered, you will have half your life left."

It's impossible to count on Xie Bowen and Duan Congyan, both of whom are the masters who do not touch the sun.

Meng Zezhi immediately stood up from the sofa: "I'll go to the kitchen and have a look."

Xie Bowen's eyes lit up, and Duan Congyan's ears trembled.

When Meng Zezhi came out of the kitchen again, there were four dishes and one soup on the dinner table:

Sauteed prawns, spicy chicken, steamed sea bass, fried potato shreds and corn rib soup.

"I haven't been in the kitchen for several years, and the craftsmanship is unfamiliar." After speaking, Meng Zezhi looked at the dishes on the table and was taken aback for a moment. Only then did he realize that he was habitually cooking Zhu Zhengqing's favorite dishes.

Thinking of Zhu Zhengqing, Meng Zezhi sighed slightly.

Duan Congyan took a piece of chicken and put it in his mouth, and then tasted the sea bass. In terms of taste, these dishes are naturally inferior to the craftsmanship of those famous chefs, but unexpectedly they fit his taste.

Duan Congyan clenched the fingers of his chopsticks almost imperceptibly, and then unknowingly ate an extra bowl of rice.

The dishes and chopsticks were washed by Xie Bowen, and Meng Zezhi returned to the room early to meditate.

In the middle of the night, there was a sudden sound of gasping in my ears, and it became more and more intense.

Meng Zezhi opened his eyes, got up and got out of bed. Following the sound, he came to Duan Congyan's door, reached out and twisted the doorknob, but did not unscrew it. Then with a sudden force, only a creak was heard and the door opened.

He reached out and pressed the light switch on the wall, and the dazzling light instantly illuminated the entire room. On the two-meter-wide bed, Duan Congyan curled up into a ball, his face pale and sweat rained down.

Meng Zezhi fished the person out of the bed: "What's the matter?"

Duan Congyan opened his eyes with difficulty, trembling at the corners of his mouth: "I have a stomach, stomach trouble."

"Is there any medicine?" Duan Congyan is not much older than Xie Bowen, and Meng Zezhi only takes care of him as a nephew.

"In the drawer beside the bed." Duan Congyan said weakly.

After listening, Meng Zezhi turned out a few boxes of stomach medicine from the bedside table and went to the kitchen to boil a pot of hot water.

"Take medicine." Meng Zezhi helped him up and let him lean on his shoulder.

Swallowing the pill with difficulty, Duan Congyan breathed a sigh of relief. The next moment, a hot water bottle was attached to his lower abdomen.

As soon as the hot water warmed up, the pain in the stomach was really relieved a lot.

Duan Congyan closed his eyes, his tightened brows gradually eased.

Meng Zezhi let out a sigh of relief. At this moment, a familiar smell burst into the tip of his nose, like mint and lotus leaf.

His complexion changed slightly, and when he wanted to study it, the smell suddenly disappeared.

His eyes fell on Duan Congyan, who had retracted into the bed, and shook his head.

Probably an illusion.

Meng Zezhi thought, sighed slightly, got up and went back to the room.

The next morning, recalling what had happened last night, Duan Congyan stared at the warm water bag in his hand, his expression gloomy.

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Comment on wonderful topics in the previous chapter:

#小受Don't love old people, right? #

No, he just wants to try a special pose!