In the bathroom, Li Zijun was washing her hands. There was no other reason; she felt like her hand was tainted by the fart and a bit dirty.
At the dining table, Su Qing wore an expression of utter hopelessness as he drank his porridge, with a dull pain lingering in his chest.
This kind of thing, he couldn't control. You can manage heaven and earth, but can you control when you poop or fart?
Besides, with beer that cold, when you put it in my blanket and leaned it against my belly, anyone would have a reaction.
It's just that he put in too much force and ended up farting. The force of the fart was no small matter; even the hand Li Zijun had placed on his belly could feel the bed vibrating.
Feeling that she'd been hit by the fart, someone was furious with embarrassment and, with a swift martial arts move, flipped his blanket and pressed a hand onto his chest.
With a crisp smack, Su Qing yelped in pain as a wave of fart smell burst out, driving Li Zijun to the bathroom.
