Saying this, he took the bowl of sweet soup from the table into his hand, and the man with leisure time on his hands fed the not-too-hot, not-too-cold sweet soup to the woman mouthful by mouthful. She drank it with gusto, having almost finished more than half the bowl before she remembered that she had prepared it for him and belatedly closed her mouth: "It's for you to drink."
He laughed: "I don't like this kind of overly sweet stuff."
"Then what do you like to drink? I'll go make some for you."
Gu Shaocheng's eyes twinkled with mischief, he tasted a mouthful, couldn't help but frown—it was too sweet, just the kind she loved to drink, "Something to nourish the kidney and boost virility, I guess."
Nourish the kidney and boost virility?
Chenxing's eyes rolled around: "Then I'll be in for bad luck tonight?"
"Don't want to be in good spirits, huh? Can you describe my diligent care of you with the words 'bad luck'?"
