After the Female Supporting Character Who Lost Favor Logged off, Her Ten Older Brothers Went Crazy

Chapter 319 Third brother: This soup tastes very ordinary

In the evening, Nanxuan waited at the gate of Huida University as usual, looking for Murong Qiao in the crowd.

He came over and squatted with his sister several times, and he has long learned to ignore the bright eyes around him looking at him, and he only waits for Murong Qiao with all his heart.

"I'm just going home, there's nothing important, third brother..."

The helpless voice of the girl came from the front.

Nan Xuan recognized the master almost immediately when he heard the voice. A happy smile appeared on the corner of his mouth, and he looked in the direction of the voice, but his face froze.

I saw a handsome man in a windbreaker and light trousers standing beside Murong Qiao, with a gentle smile on his face, and from Murong Qiao's intimate and relaxed tone just now, Nan Xuan knew The identity of the person in front of him.

"Qiao Qiao." Nan Xuan called her.

His voice was a little rough, but he still shouted.

Murong Qiao frowned, hearing a familiar but annoying voice, a little restlessness appeared in his eyes for no reason.

She had to stop, "If it's food delivery, there's no need."

Looking at Nanxuan who was waiting for him at the school gate every night, Murong Qiao simply didn't want to figure out what he wanted to do now.

It's just that there are some people that she can't hide from if she wants to.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to pester you, I just wanted to send some food or care about your body." Nanxuan looked gloomy.

Every time I see Murong Qiao's disgust towards him, it's like reminding him all the time how much he has done in the past.

Nan Xuan stuffed the soup into Murong Qiao's hands as usual, "That's all."

He emphasized, and took a step back to keep the distance, lest Murong Qiao return the things to himself.

But Murong Qiao didn't feel the warmth in her hand for even a second, before she turned away from her palm.

"This is—" Murong Chuan said at this time.

With a polite smile on his face, he stretched out his hand to take Nanxuan's soup very naturally, and carried it into his hand.

Then Murong Chuan sized him up again, and then shifted his gaze from the thermos bucket to the person who delivered the soup. It was clearly warm eyes, but Nanxuan felt inexplicably oppressed.

Murong Chuan closed his smile, "My sister has a picky mouth, but she can't eat everything."

Seeing Nanxuan flattering Murong Qiao so much, Murong Chuan naturally didn't intend to put on a good face.

"This soup, do you mind if I try it?" he asked.

The smile on Nanxuan's face that he had managed to sustain dropped a bit, and he felt a little bit annoyed by Murong Chuan's words, and then he became a little annoyed, and frowned at Murong Chuan who obviously came with bad intentions.

But Murongchuan's question does not require Nanxuan's consent.

After he finished speaking, he raised his hand and unscrewed the top cover, and the tip of his nose smelled the umami smell inside.

The thermos bucket has its own matching spoon, and Murong Chuan took it out and gently scooped it into his mouth.

"The soup has been simmering for too long, and the ingredients are not first-class delicious, and the chicken inside is a bit too dry."

"And put a quick condiment to cover up the bad technique?"

Murong Chuan pointed out the shortcomings word by word.

Like a gourmet connoisseur, picky about the shortcomings of the food in your hands.

Nan Xuan was embarrassed by his criticism.

Murong Chuan didn't mean to end, "Although I don't really want to hit people, but if you only have this level of cooking skills, then you should keep this soup for yourself, and it can also be used as a trial and error cost."

He pointed out the shortcomings in an ordinary tone, even polite, with politeness and kindness written all over his face.

But it was this attitude that made Nan Xuan even more angry.

"You!" He took a step forward angrily.

But Murong Chuan just smiled, and then stuffed the soup back into his arms.

"You don't need to thank me." Murong Chuan nodded. "After all, what I make is much better than yours, so it's easy for you to find out what's wrong."

"This soup is mediocre, but this person—is also mediocre."

After he finished speaking, he turned his head to look at Murong Qiao who was standing beside him, and the warm smile on his face suddenly became more sincere.

"Has the taxi arrived?" Murong Chuan asked.

Murong Qiao nodded in acknowledgment, reached out and pulled his third brother, signaling that he was leaving.

Going home to review or code words, doing anything is better than wasting time here with Nanxuan.

Murong Chuan laughed, bowed his head following his sister's movements, and deliberately said "whispering" in a voice that could be heard by the three people present.

"I want to drink soup, my brother will make it for you at home. It must be much better than this."

This sentence can be called a straight knife stabbing the vitals, piercing through Nanxuan's entire chest, tearing open a big hole and pouring wind into it, excruciating pain.

It's just that the person who said this seemed unconscious, and the smile on his face was happier than anyone else.

"Okay, shall we get in the car?" Murong Qiao was helpless.

Murong Chuan nodded in agreement, and followed behind his sister.

Anyway, the purpose of giving people a warning has been achieved.

Among the turbulent flow of people, Murong Chuan walked towards the car parked by the side of the road while protecting his sister step by step.

Nan Xuan stared at the broad back for a long while, his eyes darkened, and he was unable to speak after all.

He really—is not qualified to call himself Jojo's brother anymore.

After that, Murong Qiao was escorted home by Murong Chuan, and after saying goodbye to his third brother, he sat down on the sofa and rested for a while relieved.

She then took an orange from the fruit plate on the coffee table, peeled it, stuffed it into her mouth piece by piece, and emptied her brain recklessly.

It has been a month since Murong Qiao moved out, and occasionally in the dormitory when there are classes in the afternoon, he would go there for a lunch break and meet with Yang Xin.

After Zheng Yue learned that Murong Qiao had moved out, she also went to the supervisor to apply for moving out of the dormitory, and rented a house outside.

Anyway, there is no need to live in the dormitory. Although the rented house is a bit dilapidated, the advantage is that the rent is cheap and convenient and free, which happens to be what Zheng Yue can afford now.

Murong Qiao, Yang Xin and Leng Yan, who had finished their classes one morning, returned to the dormitory, ready to take a break.

"Jojo—" Yang Xin cried like a ghost.

Murong Qiao tacitly smashed the note on her head, "Take it."

"I know you are the best!" Yang Xin cheered up immediately.

She took the note, "Hui Da's life is really not human-"

Yang Xin's complaints were interrupted by the sound of the door being pushed open.

"Murong Qiao, can you come out?" Zheng Yue said with a cold voice.

The voice from the door made the three people in the room look at Zheng Yue at the same time. Seeing her somewhat sullen look, it didn't look like a good thing.

Murong Qiao was not surprised, she got up, "Okay, let's go to the corridor."

Zheng Yue's expression relaxed when she saw this, she turned around and walked to the other side.

Murong Qiao was about to follow when Yang Xin grabbed her sleeve.

"Qiao Qiao—" She frowned with concern, "Zheng Yue doesn't look right."

There was no smile on his face, his eyes were gloomy, and Yang Xin subconsciously rejected him.

"Don't worry, nothing will happen." Murong Qiao comforted upon seeing this.

Besides, she can probably guess why Zheng Yue came here.

"Then, all right." Yang Xin let her go.

At the end, I also warned, "Qiao Qiao, you must be careful!"

Yang Xin's last words were locked behind the door, Murong Qiao let go of the doorknob, and looked at Zheng Yue who was waiting for her at the other end of the corridor.

She walked over, "What do you want from me?"

Zheng Yue bit her lips, looking at Murong Qiao's face, she belatedly felt a little similar, but this made her feel even worse.

"Why don't you tell me that Nankang is your father?"

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