Seduce a shy loyal dog

you look so beautiful

At night, I still had nightmares.

The sky was like spilled ink, a black mess, as if dark clouds were covering the top, Song Yirong looked up at the sky, there was no sun and no wind.

The heat suffocated his face, and the sweat was constantly steaming, and his hair was soaked.

"Song Yirong, you look so beautiful, like a girl."

"Hee hee." The boy smiled and splashed him with the water from washing the rice plate, "But the classmates don't like you, even the teacher doesn't like you." In his immature voice, word by word, he said the hurtful words That's innocent enough.

Song Yirong screamed and backed away, but he didn't know what bound his hands and feet, they contracted and tightened little by little, causing pain to his arms and ankles, and if he took another step back, there would be no hindrance.

He was thrown off a high cliff.

The wind whistled past my ears.

"Ah." Song Yirong called out shortly, woke up suddenly from sleep, touched his forehead, it was covered in cold sweat.

The night is so similar to the sky in a dream.

Can't see five fingers.

He got up and turned on the light, and sat alone in the bright room. If possible, Song Yirong even wanted to hold another desk lamp.

At this moment, it seemed that only bright light could be his only warm comfort.

The phone screen suddenly lit up.

It's a message from the editor.

Edit: Rong, how long has it been since you updated?

Song Rong: It's three o'clock in the morning, it's hard for you old man to go to bed.

Edit: Don't change the subject, when will the update resume?

Song Yirong scratched her hair, crossed her legs and leaned against the head of the bed, and typed: Calvin, wait for me.

EDIT: OK, how long is the delay.

Songyong: For a week, I'll look for inspiration.

The editor's attitude turned 180 degrees, and even launched a cute emoticon package: [Touch the head] Waiting for you——

-

"The money for this month has already been credited to your account, remember to check it."

"En." Holding the phone, Zhou Lang took a while to reply.

Wang Zhiyuan smiled lightly on the other end of the phone, "Why are you not happy to hear that?"

Zhou Lang replied in a muffled voice: "No, thank you brother."

Wang Zhiyuan laughed twice, "Okay, you kid, are your uncles and aunts in good health?"

"all good."

"That's fine." Wang Zhiyuan said loudly, "I still have something to do here, hang up first, and help me talk to them."

"Ah."

The temperature rose a little during the day, but it became chilly at night. Zhou Lang wore a black long sleeve and sat down on the steps of the door. His back muscles bulged and his lines were smooth. His elbows rested on his knees. With a slightly arched back, he lowered his eyes and stared at the dark grass.

Hiding in the shade, they absorb the poor nutrients in the cracks, staggering, trying to grow.

After staring at the weeds for a long time, Zhou Lang belatedly realized that the moon came out tonight, which was curved like an eye.

For some reason, Song Yirong's face appeared in Zhou Lang's mind, always smiling, as if he had nothing to worry about.

But he felt that it shouldn't be like that.

It's not just that either.

For example, although the moon tonight is beautiful, there is not a single star shining around him.

-

Song Yirong was bored at home for a while, but when he opened the file, the word count progress was still less than two hundred words.

When he was in a bad mood, Song Yirong would eat salted fried eggs in retaliation, which made him tasteless in everything he ate recently, let alone his appetite.

After only staying at home for a few days, Song Yirong stepped on the scale again and lost more than three catties.

He opened the door, wanting to go out to throw out some trash, but as soon as he raised his eyes, he met the man standing at the door smoking a cigarette.

I have to say that some people are born with a little charm.

The man was half leaning against the wall, with a cigarette loosely held between his slender fingers. The moment he saw Song Yirong, he immediately put out the cigarette, straightened up, and asked, "Is your cold better?"

Zhou Lang's stubble has not been shaved, and the layer is light, making his whole person look rougher, but his figure is tall and his waist is straight, which still reveals a youthful vigor.

Song Yirong came over with a garbage bag, approached, turned his head to look at Zhou Lang as if he was fresh for a long time, and then said: "Okay, look at me, how lively I am."

"You have something to do with me?" Song Yirong threw away the garbage bag, washed his hands at the faucet in the yard, crossed his arms, and leaned against the wall like him.

"It's okay." Zhou Lang crushed the cigarette butt with his thumb, avoiding his sight unconsciously.

"Oh, I almost forgot." Song Yirong shrugged his nose when he smelled the smoke, "I have something to do, come to my house to eat hot pot tonight."

Zhou Lang took the cigarette butt away, pointed it at the trash can, threw it in, and said, "Okay."

After living for a long time, Song Yirong began to understand Banqiao Town.

At least know where there is a market in the town, where you can buy some side dishes and daily necessities.

After agreeing to invite someone to eat hot pot, Song Yirong of course had to prepare the ingredients carefully, the ones he bought earlier were stale after being left for too long.

There are crowds of people in the market, loud yelling and selling, all kinds of children running around, and people carrying many things in big and small bags.

He came here on foot, and the soles of his feet were sore and numb after just this trip, so he had to find a small stool to sit for a while and barely take a rest.

After sitting for a long time, a grandmother selling vegetables came over tremblingly and pushed his arm, "Young man, let me sit on my old woman's stool."

"Sorry." Song Yirong stood up, embarrassed for a rare time.

"Hahaha."

Song Yirong frowned and raised his head, only to see a little boy holding his mouth and smiling uncontrollably.

"What are you laughing at?" He deliberately attacked him.

The little boy took his hand away, showing a big smile with missing front teeth, "I'm not smiling."

The old granny pawed at the little boy, "Don't bother him."

With a sullen face, the little boy sat down on the stool that Song Yirong sat on just now, pursed his mouth, and soon shed big tears.

Hulahuala is not polite, and wipes his face with his tattered sleeve from time to time.

Song Yirong didn't expect this situation either, so he glanced left and right, and finally found a sugar seller's stall.

"Here," Song Yirong handed the sugar figurine awkwardly, "Don't cry."

The little boy clicked his mouth, spat out a snot bubble, and was very arrogant, "I don't want it."

The old grandma watched from the side, sighed, and knocked the little boy on the head, "Hold it."

The little boy happily took it, and stopped crying immediately.

The old grandma went to look through her vegetable basket, and there were five or six native eggs at the bottom. She wrapped them in a cloth and handed them to Song Yirong, "Don't dislike a few eggs, they are all made by native chickens, old women don't lie. "

"No need." He refused, not too embarrassed to accept, "you eat by yourself."

"It's nothing, I want to thank you for the sugar man," the old lady said, "It's not cheap, it's all because the kids are greedy."

In the end, he failed to refuse, and Song Yirong had no choice but to accept the old man's wishes.

Before leaving, taking advantage of her not paying attention, Song Yirong put a 20 yuan bag in the vegetable basket.

Wandering around in the vegetable market for a while, Song Yirong bought a lot of things in bits and pieces, his fingers were tightly strangled by the bag, reddened, and the pain was unbearable.

There were a lot of people coming and going, and there was an unpleasant smell in the air.

Song Yirong passed by the fishmonger's stall, and was almost splashed by fishy water, almost one footprint deep and one shallow, before he was spat out by this bulging vegetable market with difficulty.

But I have to say that the people in the small town are still simple, and the bags of fresh vegetables that Song Yirong carried are all top-notch, and the price is very cheap.

He was really exhausted. After leaving the market, Song Yirong looked around and saw many motorcycle masters soliciting customers.

There was a sudden touch on the shoulder, like a superficial touch, very light.

Song Yirong turned his head, and after seeing the other person's face clearly, he couldn't help smiling, "Hey, why are you here?"

There was joy in this tone, but Song Yirong didn't realize it.

Zhou Lang still held the black helmet with one hand, "Send my mother over here."

"Oh," Song Yirong couldn't help asking, "Are you going back now?"

At the same time, Zhou Lang also asked, "Are you going back now?"

Two voices sounded at the same time, after a pause, Zhou Lang continued, "I can send you off."

The master of Mo on the side watched them standing there chattering for a long while, but in the end the fat in their mouths still followed the others.

Song Yirong followed Zhou Lang, and the two walked to the parking place together. The burden in his hands was much relieved, and he was free to mutter: "If you hadn't come, I would have taken a motorcycle to go back."

"You are not a local, they may charge you more." Zhou Lang said, "Next time you have something to go out, you can find me."

Song Yirong suddenly stood still, moved slightly closer, and met Zhou Lang's gaze.

Zhou Lang's eyes are actually pretty, the dense eyelashes cast a small circle of shadow in the sun, the eyeballs are dark brown, with a bit of exotic beauty.

This is a small path outside the vegetable market. No one passes by now. It is a quiet place isolated from the hustle and bustle.

"Do you think I'm pretty?" Song Yirong asked, staring at the dark brown eyes that were extraordinarily bright under the sun.

The dark brown seemed to be a little darker at this moment, and the color seemed to be spreading. Zhou Lang's ears were dyed crimson, and his voice became more muffled, and he said, "Well, it's beautiful."

When the wind blew, Song Yirong's hair fluttered on his shoulders like water waves, his covered eyebrows and eyes were exposed, and his facial features appeared cleanly in Zhou Lang's sight.

The scent of dry shampoo wafted in the wind, Song Yirong blinked, brushed the hair on the side of the ear, recovered, and said in a low voice: "Let's go back."

My hair has grown so much that it has reached my shoulders.

Song Yirong thought, let's cut it someday.

Zhou Lang's words didn't make him feel offended, it was a clean compliment.

Anyone will be happy to hear it.

But he is different from normal people.

Be a freak.

On the way back, they were silent, and the green hills and green trees on both sides retreated quickly in the field of vision.

They were flying all the way, giving Song Yirong the illusion of racing against time.

No matter who is around.

Go out of time.

He whispered in the wind.