When Fourier fainted from stomach pain for the third time, he was dragged into a small restaurant next to the construction site by his colleagues.
"Boss Qi, the same thing!" A colleague shouted in a familiar voice.
A bowl of hot porridge was pushed in front of him. The rice grains were blooming and there were finely chopped minced meat and vegetables.
"Doctors also need to eat on time." Qi Yang wiped his hands on his apron.
Fourier looked up and saw the burn scars exposed on the other party's sleeves.
Later, when he came, Qi Yang always remembered to put less salt.
The workers laughed: "Boss Qi, does Dr. Fu have a crush on you?"
Qi Yang banged the frying spoon: "I am the chief physician, who am I?"
Until Fourier slapped the real estate certificate on the greasy dining table: "I bought the store. From now on, you take care of the food and I take care of you."
