cry that scum

Cong Lang lit another cigarette for himself.

He can now confirm that Lan Jing has an enmity with his father, and the enmity seems to be not small, which makes him not hesitate to pay for murder.

But based on Cong Lang's understanding of his father, Shu Mingcheng would never do such a thing as forcing people to jump off a building.

What happened in between, he has no idea now.

Shu Mingcheng made it clear that he didn't want to talk about it, so he could only ask the other party, Lan Jing.

Cong Lang put out the cigarette in the ashtray, took the car keys and went out. If Shu Mingcheng really did something wrong to the Lan family, he was willing to bear it.

The father's debt is paid by the son, which is justified.

But when he thought that Lan Jing might approach him deliberately for revenge, and that all his feelings might be fake, Cong Lang felt unspeakably irritated.

He drove the car very fast, driving fast all the way, when he arrived at Lan Ye, Lan Jing was unexpectedly not there.

The little a at the front desk is not there either.

Cong Lang took out his phone and dialed Lan Jing's number.

When the other end connected, the other party came up with a vague and super uncomfortable sentence, "If you are fine, just wait for me."

Listening to the sound obviously woke someone up from a deep sleep.

Cong Lang glanced at his watch, but it was ten o'clock in the evening.

"I went to bed early tonight. Where are you?" He asked as he got out of the hotel and restarted the motorcycle. "Tell me the place, I'll come and find you."

"Go away, don't shoot."

Lan Jing cursed, threw the phone directly, grabbed the quilt and covered his head.

Listening to the beeping sound from the microphone, Cong Lang sighed helplessly.

He called Lin Shao again, inquired about Lan Jing's residence from the other party, and then went to find him.

Lan Jing was dizzy, his body was cold, and he finally fell asleep when there was a knock on the door.

He threw off the quilt angrily, sat staring at the air for a long time before he pulled the slippers and wrapped the quilt to the ground.

When the door was opened, Cong Lang who was standing outside was stunned for a moment, looking at his sinister face only exposed outside the quilt, he jokingly said, "What kind of virtue are you?"

Lan Jing glared at him, went back to the room, kicked off his shoes and sat down on the bed with an uneasy expression, the end of his beautiful eyes raised an unpleasant arc, his slightly dry lips were slightly pursed, and he seemed in a very bad mood.

"What are you doing here?"

Seeing that his face was flushed, Cong Lang walked up to him and touched his forehead, "It's so hot, Lan Xiaojing, you have a fever."

Lan Jing patted his hands off, and turned up the temperature of the air conditioner. He was so cold that even though he was wrapped in a thick winter quilt, his upper and lower teeth were constantly fighting.

"Send you to the hospital?" Cong Lang asked.

Lan Jing glanced at him, fell back on the bed, and hummed, "I'm not so delicate, I've taken antipyretics, I'll be fine after a night of sleep."

Cong Lang frowned, and sat down beside the bed, "Have you had dinner yet?"

Lan Jing hummed weakly, stared at him and asked, "What are you doing here?"

Cong Lang looked at his burning rabbit-like eyes, and couldn't help but soften his heart. He didn't want to ask any questions for now, and just curled his mouth and said, "Looking at how cold Lan Shao is, I'm here to warm your bed."

As the saying goes, don't hit a smiling person with your hand, Lan Jing's waking up anger has almost dissipated now.

He looked at Cong Lang, remained silent for a while, and then moved inside to make half a bed for Cong Lang.

"The pillow is in the cupboard."

Cong Lang raised his eyebrows, took the pillow kindly, and went to bed.

When he took off his clothes and got under the quilt, he realized that Lan Xiaojing was completely naked, and he was still in the neutral gear.

"Honey, if you don't want to wear some clothes, I'm afraid I can't help bullying the patient." Cong Lang put his hand on his thigh.

Lan Jing was shivered by his cool palm, and then sneered, "Why, don't you guard yourself for your sweetheart?"

Cong Lang sighed, "I would like to, but Lan Shao is too charming."

"You sound like a scumbag when you hear that."

"Your words sound like jealousy." Cong Lang continued with a smile.

Lan Jing rolled his eyes and reached out to turn off the light.

Cong Lang lay down next to him, and as soon as his body touched Lan Jing, the other party immediately rolled away half a circle, "Damn, why are you so cold?"

"Hold it for a while and it will be warm."

Cong Lang brought the man back, hugged him in his arms, stretched out his hands to rub Lan Jing's hair, and coaxed, "Go to sleep and sweat, and you'll be fine tomorrow. I'll watch over you."

When Lan Jing heard this, he moved his body awkwardly, but he was not willing to leave the other party's arms after all. He leaned against Cong Lang's chest, shivering from the cold, and his body gradually warmed up.

"Hey, did you really come here to sleep?"

In the dark, Lan Jing couldn't help asking softly.

"Otherwise, I want to do something," Cong Lang pushed behind him, "but you are burning like a stove now, and I don't have the heart to take advantage of others."

"Crap, you do." Lan Jing snorted and closed his eyes.

Cong Lang hugged him tighter again.

In the middle of the night, Lan Jing's high fever finally subsided, and both of them sweated profusely, and the skin that was close together was sticky and greasy.

Cong Lang fully turned on the warm air of the air conditioner, then quietly got out of bed and went to the bathroom to soak a hot towel and came back, gently wiped the sweat off Lan Jing's body.

Lan Jing sank into sleep, his brows were tightly furrowed, looking very uncomfortable.

Cong Lang reached out and pressed his forehead, Lan Jing's breathing suddenly became rapid, his chest heaved violently, his lips opened, and he tightly grasped the bed sheet as if he was drowning.

Cong Lang frowned, patted his face, and called out, "Lan Jing."

Lan Jing was haunted by a nightmare, hissed in pain, but he didn't wake up.

Cong Lang patted him harder, "Lan Jing, Lan Xiaojing, wake up!"

Lan Jing opened his eyes suddenly, and then took out the gun hidden under the bed with lightning speed, and pointed it at Cong Lang in front of him.

Cong Lang quickly pushed his hand aside, stepped onto the bed to suppress Lan Jing before he could resist, and then shouted in a low voice, "Lan Xiaojing, it's me!"

When Lan Jing heard his voice, the movements of his hands froze, and his chaotic eyes gradually became clear.

He breathed a sigh of relief, dropped the gun, and asked hoarsely, "Who are you scaring on top of me?"

As he spoke, he lifted Cong Lang who was riding on him and sat up from the bed, then touched the cigarette on the bedside table, and lit one for himself.

Cong Lang watched him exhale a long smoke ring, rubbed his face tiredly, and couldn't help asking, "Do you often do this?"

Lan Jing didn't speak, just glanced at him, then raised his hand to turn off the lit wall lamp.

The room fell into darkness again, only the scarlet around Lan Jing's mouth flickered brightly and dimly.

After a long time, he stubbed out the cigarette, reached out and pushed Cong Lang down, and then straddled him.

"This time, will you refuse?"

Lan Jing lowered his head and bit Cong Lang's lips. Before the other party could speak, he reached down to hold Cong Lang's things, and then slowly lowered his waist.