i am not bisexual

The moment the soft lips touched, Chen Yongsheng's mind went blank, there was no past, no future, only this moment, only him.Then, the mouth was invaded, a little rough, but also gentle, he was fascinated by Xiao Yancheng's fresh breath, which also had a scent of mint.He thought he could never get enough of this smell.

The French writer Victor Hugo once said that the embodiment of true love is bravery in girls and cowardice in boys.In Xiao Yancheng's home, facing the room full of books, he once said this to Chen Yongsheng.When he said this, his eyes were a bit deep and melancholy, as if he had penetrated the love and hate in the world; at that moment, Yongsheng seemed to understand that Xiao Yan became the same as everyone else, that's because they Nothing special to him has any special meaning.

Why?Why him?Why choose Yongsheng?Mingming Mr. Xiao, there are many choices.Yongsheng couldn't help questioning himself in his heart, and was also curious. He really wanted to get close to everything about Xiao Yancheng and know everything about him.

"Then who does Yongsheng like to write?"

"Mr. Shen Congwen. He is very classic, sincere and melancholy."

"It really is Yongsheng. It's so gentle. What makes me love is your place. Because I can understand it at a glance. No matter how timid you are." Saying this, Yan Cheng caressed Yongsheng's chest, using his slender and strong hands Pressed on his heart; maybe he could sense it, but it was beating too hard.

After lighting a menthol cigarette, Xiao Yancheng leaned against the window and talked to him leisurely about his family affairs.His parents were both professors of engineering; his father had strict family education since he was a child, and his indifference and unruly nature were probably cultivated in this way.

"Where are Mr.'s parents now? Don't they live with Mr.?"

"They both teach at a university in Beiping. I came to the south alone to study and work. If we don't get along with each other, it's better if we don't get along with each other. I'm very comfortable here, so I'm happy." Yancheng smiled at him slightly, and blew out a beautiful smoke ring.Yongsheng has never seen him like this.

There was a secret between them, some sort of sweet taboo.Chen Yongsheng was no longer distracted in class, because the fantasies he once thought were wishful thinking had all become reality; even, it was even more wonderful than what he could imagine.

After class, they went to parks, museums, cinemas, strolled in the city, and went out in the countryside; every time they saw something, Xiao Yancheng explained a lot to him, with love, love for plants and love for him, all mixed together Together, it is not clear.

In the blink of an eye, autumn, large areas of fallen leaves are all over the ground.One day in the museum, Yongsheng noticed that in a hall on the third floor, many kinds of imperial forest sabers from the Ming Dynasty were on display.He looked at one of them and said to Yancheng with great interest: "Sir, look, this one is called Yanling Dao; it is slender and flexible, more simple and elegant than Xiuchun Dao, and it matches you very well." Xiao Yancheng looked at it and said with a smile: "Haha, maybe my ancestors really used this kind of knife." He made a gesture of holding the knife, and hugged Yongsheng's shoulder.

"Hey, looking at it this way, it's still not suitable for holding a knife. Mister really looks too refined..." Yongsheng stuck to his side, still teasing him.

"It seems... This is also a good thing. The war is coming to an end, and I hope that there will be no chance to use a knife or a gun in my lifetime." Yancheng pushed his glasses, his eyes froze.

At the beginning of the singing, a teacher said by the side: "Professor Chen, it's your turn to speak on stage." Only then did Chen Yongsheng come back to his senses, and stepped forward to pick up the microphone.Facing the many students in the audience, he spoke sincere and encouraging words, but his soul seemed to be separated from his body to watch him:

During that year, there were turbulent winds and clouds, great rivers and seas, student movements, and the sky was far apart... Everything was rushed to a random place with the torrent of fate before it was possible to discern what it was.

Perhaps, just wait.I just hope that the years of waiting can be gentler.For sober people, the years are never quiet; in Yongsheng's heart, it will always be like a bleak autumn, maybe there are wild geese walking in the bright autumn sky.

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the opening poem