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Feng Ling put two plastic bags on the table in his room, and then began to potter things, and reported them to him as he took them out.

"This is Auntie Jelly's specialty at the base cafeteria. I specially packed one, and this one is Uncle Han's fried chicken."

"Yes, and, this, I gave it to Auntie Jelly, and said that although you usually go to the cafeteria a few times, you will eat this every time you go, and I will bring it to you, she said This kind of stewed meat was learned from a chef from northern China a few years ago, and it is rare to have such an authentic taste in Los Angeles ... "

"And steak!"

...

At the end of the report, Feng Ling satisfactorily laid out the lunch boxes one by one on the table, and then put the bottles of wine out on the table, turning to speak.

As soon as he turned around, the whole person suddenly hit the man's chest, Feng Ling's movement was a meal, he was busy to take a step back, but behind him had already arrived directly on the edge of the table.

She raised her eyes and looked at Li Nanheng who did not know when she suddenly approached.

The man looked down at her with a panic expression at this moment.

Feng Ling usually wears a calm and indifferent mask. Such a look of distress is rare, but often when he has such an expression, the man who scratches his heart like a mosquito is biting.

"What are you doing with so many drinks?"

"Isn't Sanfa celebrating your birthday today? But they said that you are not going out today, boss. I just don't go there. Thinking of the rare quietness of the first team and the sniper team, I went to the cafeteria to pack some side dishes. You eat together. "Feng Ling said as he evaded back, holding his hands backwards on the table, trying to keep a certain safe distance from the man who was full of oppression in front of his eyes,

Li Nanheng glanced at the table behind her and said lightly, "What's the matter with wine?"

"Did I just say that, it was Han Jiao who made me ..."

"What did he tell you?"

"Nothing, Instructor Han just said that he would let me get some bottles of wine ..."

"Take wine?" The man looked down at the young man's evasive but evasive action, coolly, "What is he thinking, thinking I don't know? Want to drunk me, eh?"

Feng Ling: "..."

The man's sense of oppression became more and more obvious. Feng Ling suddenly raised his hand and pushed him, but he did not push it away. He stayed stiffly on the man, and then put it down stiffly again, "Boss, I just give you kindness Give me a few bottles of wine and side dishes. It's not that complicated! "

With that, she clenched her fists tightly and pushed him with a brutal force. As soon as she pushed the man a distance away, she turned away from the dangerous area in front of him instantly.

However, as soon as he passed by, his arms suddenly tightened, the man held her directly, and looked at her with the light of the corner of his eyes: "Are you going to eat together? What are you going to do?"

Feng Ling paused and pulled his hand out of him, but he couldn't make two moves. He turned to the man's indifferent gaze in an instant: "It's a meal, but can the boss let go of me first."

As she spoke, she glanced at his arm again: "Isn't the doctor saying that your arm can't be too hard in the short term? Otherwise, there will be sequelae."

But it was because of his injured hand that Feng Ling didn't dare to use too much effort to break free, but left him to hold his wrist firmly and stand on the side.

The person who had voluntarily ran over was her, but because Li Nanheng broke through her motive and knew that she wanted to sip on him, she had no courage to look directly into his eyes.

Li Nanheng's pupils took a deep look at her and let go of her hand. Feng Ling stepped back to the side in an instant, resisting the movement of rubbing her wrist, only raising her hand because of the pull on her arm. The slightly crooked clothes and neckline were sorted out.

"Sit down and eat," the man said.

This atmosphere ... was not the atmosphere she had originally expected. It was clear that she was the active one, and how it became the passive one in a few minutes.

And it's a passive one that doesn't even have a reason to escape.

She didn't move.

Li Nanheng didn't urge, picking up a bottle of wine on the table, and the two cups she put in the bag, placed the two cups at the table and filled them.

"The premise of wanting to intoxicate me is that you can fight me." The man picked up the wine glass, and handed it to her. His eyes were ice-cold and deep, bottomless ink, and two points hidden in the night sky. Han Mang.

"Boss, you really misunderstood." Feng Ling put down his hand that had just cleared the neckline and glanced at him: "To be straightforward, I just want to solve this stalemate Cold War situation with the boss through the relationship of the wine table. I do n’t want to stay cold like this, and I ’m going to explain and explain the boss ’s question that I ’m not honest enough. Whether it ’s a misunderstanding or something, I should always make it clear. ”

She paused, and said, "It's really like the boss you said, so these bottles of wine are like pouring down on you. It's really difficult. I can't even know the amount of alcohol you have."

Li Nanheng held the glass in front of her without changing her movements, and her cold voice was unshakable: "Drink then."

Feng Ling glanced again at the full glass of wine: "Boss, my alcohol is not very good, you know ..."

"Don't borrow the relationship of the wine table to talk to me? Don't drink a sip of wine. Are these four bottles prepared for me? I'm drinking, you watch? Who gives you courage and confidence?" She laughed, but her eyes were so cold that she could still easily see through her.

Feng Ling's eyes were stagnant. She raised her hand and took the wine glass. He hesitated before taking a sip. She was about to lay down after a sip, but suddenly she received Li Nanheng's deep and full-looking eyesight. She had a mood inside for a while Just drunk a full glass of wine into it.

This is the highest one of the four bottles of wine on the table. I do n’t know where Han Jin got it. The bottle says 65-degree sauce-flavored white wine, made in China.

Most of Feng Ling's drink in the United States is wine, wine or some other liquors here, both high and low, but at most two or three glasses can no longer be drunk.

This white wine just had a stomachache, first it was hot in the throat, and then there was a burning fever in the stomach.

Feng Ling held the empty glass in her hand, and was not very comfortable for a while because of the burning stomach. After all, she had never drunk such a strong wine.

Does this count as shooting yourself in the foot? Knowing that these wines could not be poured into Li Nanheng at all, the result was that I took a few bottles a little stronger, and the first one turned out to be myself.

Li Nanheng looked back at her, picked up the other full-filled wine on the table, drank it, and put the wine glass on the table. The sound of the glass falling on the table made Feng Ling's voice clear. Raised his eyes.