Tangling with the Western Commander

Chapter 22: Chapter 22: Heart Explosion

Editor: Atlas Studios

Wen Xian frowned as she looked over, not knowing what she saw from this angle through the wide-open courtyard gate, she suddenly froze.

As the person outside approached closer, Wen Xian still had a cigarette pinched between the tips of her fingers, and the corner of her eye twitched subtly.

The person coming from outside was none other than Ama and… should be her son.

Wen Xian narrowed her eyes slightly, staring from afar at the sturdy little chub bouncing toward her––

Damn.

She tugged the corner of her lip lightly, unable to help but press her hand to her forehead in amusement.

It seemed she hadn’t been completely wrong just now; not only did the young men of the Tibetan Area look robust and imposing, but this little bud was also quite solid.

However, there was no need to sit anymore.

After all, he’s still young.

Lu Xiao walked out from inside.

It was the weekend, and he appeared to finally have some free time after a busy week.

But for him, there was no distinction between weekends and weekdays; he would rush over immediately if something came up.

He saw Wen Xian smoking, his eyebrows knitted slightly, but he didn’t say anything and soon headed toward the kitchen.

Wen Xian seemed to sense his presence with her peripheral vision, and she slowly turned around, staring after him.

? ? ?

What was he doing?

Thinking that she still needed to tell him about her departure, Wen Xian hesitated for a moment, then followed him.

Behind the kitchen, against the wall, there was a homemade iron stove with a wide open firebox.

Wen Xian thought that if this stove were used for heating in the winter, or for roasting things, the fierce tongues of flame would be quite powerful.

Just as she was thinking this, she saw Lu Xiao take out the gloves, sharpening tools, and other gear from the side, preparing to continue his work.

“You made this!?”

Wen Xian asked in surprise.

The man casually took off his coat and draped it over a nearby rack.

He was only wearing a black T-shirt now, the sleeves carelessly rolled up, revealing his strong arms that were nearly the color of ancient bronze.

His arms were very firm, and Wen Xian saw some blue veins emerge faintly on his forearms as he picked up the sharpening tool.

Looming at his sturdy, forceful bronze arms, Wen Xian then looked down at her own slender, pale small arms.

She suddenly felt somewhat abashed, her throat sliding uncomfortably.

The stark contrast in their skin tones, the contrast between resilience and fragility, the contrast between man and woman––

Lu Xiao took out a pack of cheap cigarettes, casually pulled one out and put it in his mouth, glanced at her, and then his voice, slightly muffled, added, “What? Is there a problem?”

While speaking, his hand searched for a lighter.

But fumbling in his pocket, it seemed he was out of lighters.

His gaze turned, and suddenly fixed on Wen Xian.

Wen Xian was looking at him, then at the iron stove beneath his feet, chuckling dryly, “No problem, why not.”

Indeed, the men here were different from those in the bustling big cities.

In the big cities, everything was ready-made, whereas here, they often had to do everything themselves if they needed anything.

This meant that his ability to do things with his hands was exceptional—he could do anything.

Lu Xiao, he was really quite capable.

Wen Xian, admiring the iron stove, suddenly became aware that he was walking towards her.

She lifted her gaze, and was momentarily taken aback.

She was still biting down on a cigarette butt between her lips, the slender Winston flickered on and off, sparkling with specks of red light.

He suddenly leaned forward, lowered his head, and drew closer.

Wen Xian: “…”

She stared blankly as his face came extremely close all of a sudden, her body freezing up.

For a moment, her mind buzzed as if it were an old, flickering black-and-white television with static.

Lu Xiao’s brows and eyes drooped darkly.

His indifferent gaze fell on the point where their cigarettes met.

The cigarette he held in his mouth was lit by the flame of her slender cigarette butt.

[Jiuge: Sorry, my dears, Jiuge to explode first as a salute!!]

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