"Hello." Wen stretched out his hand, "Give it to me."

Even her fingers were pale pink, as if she had never touched heavy objects with these hands since the day she was born.

Pitro tried hard to remain calm, but he still stiffened involuntarily before handing out the paper bag in his hand half a beat.

"Thank you," said Wen, who wanted to retreat to the room, but noticed Pitro's unnatural expression and his glimpse of sight from time to time.

She looked over thoughtfully, and Pitro lowered his head like a frightened deer, and looked up at her calmly, as if he had done something wrong and was showing off.

He won't steal her takeaway, right?

This thought just flashed, and Pitro's face turned red as she looked at her, and Wen understood.

Isn't this super hero a little too innocent?

Just as Wen asked about who you are, information about the other party emerged.

It turns out that this is also a superhero, that is at least safe. Although Wen is still full of doubts, is the current superhero still helping to deliver food? The business scope is too wide... but she still opened the door.

Unexpectedly, she did nothing, and the other party acted like this.

She did not do anything just now, right? Wen thought about it with self-doubt and finally confirmed that she did not do anything.

So she became interested and did not close the door directly, but stood at the door and asked him: "Where is the deliveryman who usually takes care of delivering food to me?"

"He was in a car accident." Pitro replied quickly. "After I took him to the hospital, he was very worried that you would not receive the takeaway in time, so I asked me to help deliver it. I arrived as fast as possible."

...You Chaoying's business scope is really so wide!

Wen also briefly suspected whether Pitro was working to deliver food. She did not receive the notice because the store owner forgot.

Although it is unlikely that there will be a store owner who will forget her of this level of generous customers.

"You are so kind." She exclaimed, "want to come in and have some food, take a break?"

Pitro had never expected to be invited into the door, and he said, "...let me in? Wouldn't your family have any objections?"

"I live alone." Wen moved away, "Come in, there are slippers at the door."

It was bought by Natasha for her, so Wen didn't think about why Natasha had prepared so many slippers for her to entertain customers.

Pitro was only a little restrained when he first entered the door.

When he found that Wen didn't take the invitation to him seriously and didn't even think about preparing tea for the guests, he vaguely realized a little about Wen's character.

In fact, after listening to what the man who delivered the takeaway said, Pitro was very curious about Wen, but in his expectation, Wen's image was more similar to a wealthy lady with so much money that she had nowhere to spend.

Although Wen seemed to be like this, the rich lady Pitro envisioned by Pitro is the kind of arrogant and arrogant person.

...It has nothing to do with warmth.

At first he just went to see Wen secretly, but found that Wen didn't take his existence to heart. Pitro's eyes became unrestrained and circled around Wen.

She wore a green skirt and a thick green knee-length skirt, which made her skin look white.

The room is very clean and tidy, so clean that it makes people feel a little uneasy. Like most of his peers, Pitro rarely spends time cleaning up the room, but because of his super speed, he is still willing to roughly organize the thrown things.

But this living room was so clean that it was blank.

Pitro does not mean the refreshing and cleanness in the ordinary sense, because no matter how refreshing and clean the place is, dust and dander will float in the air, and the carpets laid on the ground will also have extremely fine hairs.

But the room was so clean that there was nothing, as if there was some force that had forced the removal of part of it that should have existed.

Pitro put half of his body weight on the sofa and felt uneasy. He inevitably began to suspicion. Could this car accident and the funny deliveryman be part of the conspiracy. Someone was targeting the X-Men and set up a plan to attack him?

He was unwilling to believe his guess because if so, if his guess came true...

Then this girl will be part of the conspiracy.

This thought made Pitro feel repulsive and unhappy. He glanced at the girl who was putting the takeaway box on the table, took a deep breath, and put on the windproof glasses on his head.

The world stagnated at this moment.

The electronic clock numbers by the wall stopped in place, the gauze curtain that shrank in the breeze stopped breathing, and the time of flow suddenly stopped. Pitro stood in the solidified screen and turned his head left and right, his eyes stopped on the girl.

The girl with a half-beaked waist is like a screenshot of a movie. Even if her erect eyelashes are still, they still have a sense of liveliness that will flash in the next second.

Her skirt was gently raised, as if someone had held the corner of the skirt.

For some reason, Pitro gently pulled the corner of her skirt.

He patrols the entire apartment and checks every corner of every room. The luxurious style of the master bedroom makes him sigh, and the ballet room surprises him - Pitrou thought Wen would put a piano or violin or something - but he is not very surprised, ballet and Wen's temperament match him.

There is nothing unusual.

Maybe it's really because of his nervousness.

He thought this way, but suddenly found a secret door in an inconspicuous location, which may be a storage room. The space at this corner is neither enough to form a single room, nor is it small enough to easily waste this part of the area, so it is often emptied and used as a storage room.

Pitro opened the door of the storage room...and didn't open it?

He pushed it again unwillingly, then changed his position and hit the door hard. Finally, he even used his feet, but the door did not move at all.

This door is not for pure decoration.

He turned around and the numbers on the electronic clock had not moved yet, but the semi-frozen girl had already turned her head halfway and looked towards the empty sofa.

Pitro immediately rushed back to the sofa and sat down, then pushed the windproof glasses back to his head as if nothing had happened.

Wen glanced at Pitro: Is it an illusion? He seemed to have a flash just now?

No, it's not an illusion. If you look closely, you will find that the marks on the windproof glasses on his hair have changed. The direction of his hair is different from before. Moreover, the position where he sits down has moved slightly, and the marks of the sunken sofa do not fit his body. In addition, there are slipper prints on his feet that are exactly the same as his feet... There are too many flaws, right?

This cannot be considered a flaw, it is simply that there is no intention to hide the abnormality!

Wen was very shocked, but he quickly calmed down.

Maybe the superhero in this world is so generous. As for the various problems caused by exposing their identities, will it affect innocent people...

Anyway, it can always be solved, as long as it is really strong enough.

She calmly arranged the takeaway one by one, lifted the lid and squinted her eyes in the fragrance with satisfaction, and invited with a smile: "Do you want to try it together? It's time for dinner now, you probably haven't eaten yet, right?"

Without Pitro's answer, Win also knows the answer.

These superheroes are too busy and have such a wide range of business. Pitro must have come to deliver her takeout before she even had sex. However, the deliveryman was in a car accident and thought that her takeout was not delivered. Wen was inexplicably moved.

It would be better to lose more than zero the next time you pay the bill.

Pitro did not expect that he would be invited: "I haven't eaten yet, but is it really OK?"

"Of course. Come here, I'll give you one."

Because Wen was too generous, the food delivered to the store was very large and Wen often couldn't finish it. She took out a few plates from the cabinet and poured the steak and salad on it. Each food was evenly divided into two portions.

"I gave a gift of sushi today." Wen said, taking out the sushi and looking at it. "I don't eat sweet shrimp and caviar, do you eat it?"

"I can eat these," Pitro said. "I'm a student from Japan from my school. She occasionally makes special dishes for us...but many of the things are different from what we usually taste in Japanese restaurants."

He sat across from Wen and complained.

"Do you know there is a soup in Japan? It seems to be called Miso soup," he recalled reading the difficult-to-mouthed Japanese dish. "I have never tasted so strangely!"

"Miso soup is not bad, what I hate the most is natto," said Wen.

She was not interested in the kind of food that was covered with brushable mucus, densely scented and smelled bad, but because she didn't understand, she still stepped on the mine while ordering.

But the Japanese raw egg bibimbap is delicious, with a little fresh and sweet feeling, and it is not so strong that she feels tired of it. In the end, she ate a whole bowl of raw egg bibimbap with pickles.

As for the natto, of course, they were all dumped.

Her words aroused Pitro's strong reaction: "Yes! The taste of natto is so strange! It's like eating the secretions of snails!"

...You don't need to be so specific, and there is no need to use such a vivid metaphor.

Pitro also seemed to realize his inappropriate language, and he smiled awkwardly and stopped talking.

They shared a lunch quietly. Pitro's gray hair had a light texture in the sun. Wen unconsciously began to stare at him. Pitro was also looking at Wen, and their eyes slammed gently in the air from time to time.

Then Pitro's face turned red and stopped looking, and Wen was a little embarrassed.

After eating, Pitro took the initiative to go to wash dishes. Wen said, "If you have a dishwasher, you can use a dishwasher."

Pitro quickly turned on the dishwasher and put the dishes in and out of the code.

He was quite obedient, Wen Xiang, she smiled faintly, and looked at Pitro's back with a good mood... This warm atmosphere always makes her feel happy, but Pitro doesn't seem to be very good at housework. His movements are clumsy, not as quick as Natasha's.

I don't know what Natasha is doing.

She glanced at Pitro's back again, got up and went to the balcony, wanting to call Natasha.

Unexpectedly, she slid her hand and dialed Diana's number. She quickly wanted to hang up, but the phone was picked up after only two sounds.

"Hello?"

Wen had no choice but to say, "Hey, Diana."

"I hope Black Widow doesn't bother you."

"Hmm? Natasha? Of course not," said Wen. "A few days after she moved to me, my three meals became much more home-based, and she also helped clean the room - but I did it myself most of the time."

Diana was a little surprised: "Did she do this?"

"She said she likes this very much, giving her the feeling of being an ordinary person. Who knows, maybe she really thinks that way."
To be continued...