[Quick Travel] The villain is a coquettish

Wen Ling looked in astonishment at the boy sitting in a wheelchair not far away.

Sensing Wen Ling's gaze, the young man stretched out his jade-like fingers and hooked it lightly: "Come here."

Wen Ling was a little timid, and then slowly moved to the boy's side.

The young man looked at Wen Ling's soft white hand, gently held his hand in his palm and played with it.

He has light-colored hair, and when he looked up lazily, the cloudy emotions in the brown eyes almost made the woman opposite him hold his breath subconsciously.

The woman's face was a little pale, but her eyes were filled with amazing shyness. She instinctively wanted to argue and blame Wen Ling.

"I don't mean that, Master, it's him, it's him!! He's not satisfied with your leg problems..."

"You mean, he told you himself?" The young man interrupted her, the coldness in his eyes became even worse, and he almost looked at the woman with contempt.

Wen Ling subconsciously shook her body.

He was obviously sitting in a wheelchair, but that kind of aura gave Wen Ling the illusion that he was sitting on the throne, becoming a murderous and ruthless tyrant.

The woman's words stopped abruptly, and she stood there in a panic.Like a mouse that has nowhere to hide, the words that were easy to read seem ridiculous and ignorant under such a sharp aura and tone.

"If I remember correctly, you should also look at your resume and family background when applying for a servant, right? This kind of person can be admitted, are you all trash?"

The young man's exquisite and beautiful appearance was smiling, but the deep coldness in his eyes made people instinctively timid.

The housekeeper's forehead was already sweating. He bent over and lowered his tone as much as possible: "There should be a mistake. I will ask them to verify it."

The boy didn't speak any more, he just walked forward by pressing the joystick of the wheelchair.

Wen Ling stood where he was, not daring to move at all, and could only be dumbfounded at a loss.

Turning around in the wheelchair, the young man looked at Wen Ling's silly face, and bent his lips in a good mood: "Aren't you going to follow?"

With permission, Wen Ling hurriedly followed the boy with short legs.

In the main hall, the madam was sitting on the sofa drinking tea, when she saw the young man going downstairs, the love on the brows couldn't be stopped.

"Come here, son, are you going to take an oil painting class later?"

Song Lu didn't move, his voice was neither salty nor weak, but it was alienated: "I'm about to go, what's the matter, mother?"

Madam's eyes dimmed, and then she looked at Song Lu with a smile: "It's almost your birthday, what do you want, mom will buy it for you..."

"The mother I want should be very clear in her heart." Song Lu suddenly interrupted her, and the lady's face turned pale in an instant, and the regret and guilt on her face could not even be whitewashed.

"I..."

"If there's nothing else, I'll go to class first." Song Lu didn't want to say much, and didn't even look at the expression on his wife's face, and left without looking back while turning the wheelchair.

Wen Ling looked at the madam who was gently wiping away tears, and then at the young master who had already left, and suddenly didn't know what to do.

Suddenly, Song Lu, who had already left, went back, and his brows and eyes had already sunk, with subtle anger: "Why don't you just walk here in a daze?"

Wen Ling was taken aback, and hurried over to keep up.

The car stopped at the door, and the housekeeper helped Song Lu stand up from the wheelchair. Song Lu's face was a little pale, and he moved into the car little by little with difficulty.

The butler didn't dare to use too much force, so he could only support Song Lu and protect him carefully.

Wen Ling couldn't stand beside him, so he gently grabbed Song Lu's other arm with his little paw, and carefully helped him onto the sofa seat.

After confirming that the young master had sat down, the butler put away the wheelchair and let out a sigh of relief.

The young master's temper is notoriously eccentric, he does not allow anyone to give him special care and pity because of his leg, so even if it is difficult to move, he has to sit in the car by himself.

Song Lu raised his eyes to look at Wen Ling who was standing at the door of the car with a stiff face, and patted the seat beside him: "Sit here."

Wen Ling bent down to get into the car, and sat lightly beside Song Lu.

There was a distance of two punches between him and Song Lu, for fear that he would hurt Song Lu if he was not careful.

"Why, you think I'm pitiful too?" Seeing Wen Ling's dodging look, Song Lu pulled his lips and sneered.

Wen Ling shook his head anxiously. He wanted to speak but couldn't open his mouth. In his desperation, he grabbed Song Lu's hand and pressed it to his face.

He nibbled at each other like a small animal.

The tip of my heart seemed to be hit hard by some blunt object, and it was a little numb.

Strange emotional madness swept through every corner of the nerves and body.

Excited, hot... Song Lu gently pressed the tip of his tongue against the sharp canine teeth, and then blocked the excited and broken laugh with his palm.

"I see." Song Lu gently scratched Wen Ling's chin with his fingertips, like treating a small animal.

The car moved forward steadily, Wen Ling blinked and looked out the window curiously.

This is his first time out.

Not long after, the car stopped smoothly, and Song Lu's studio arrived.

The studio is very quiet, it is a small three-story bungalow with unique and exquisite decoration.

Wen Ling took over the job of housekeeper, took out the wheelchair, carefully helped Song Lu sit on it, and then pushed him into the studio.

"Go to the last room on the second floor." Song Lu opened his lips lightly.

When they went in, a man with long hair just came out with a tool in his hand.

He wasn't surprised to see Song Lu, and said in a familiar tone, "It's just in time. I replaced your previous batch of tools, which have been rusted since they haven't been used for 800 years."

Song Lu didn't respond: "Whatever you want."

Wen Ling quietly looked at the long-haired man. His gentle and elegant facial features were very similar to those of ink and wash scholars who came out of the south of the Yangtze River, and his every move carried a sense of literary elegance.

"Yo, why did you bring such a cute kid here today?" The man teased, wanting to reach out and pinch Wen Ling's face.

Before reaching out his hand, Song Lu patted the back of his hand mercilessly.

The long-haired man shook the back of his hand indifferently, and clicked his tongue a little: "It's really hard, you listen to take care of this little friend."

Song Lu didn't pay any attention to him, and put the drawing board in order, skillfully took out the tools, opened the paint and started toning.

"Okay, okay, I won't bother you, let's draw slowly." The long-haired man left the room with interest, and before he left, he didn't forget to close the door thoughtfully.

Wen Ling didn't know what to do, so he sat on the small bench and watched Song Lu draw.

It has to be said that Song Lu's appearance when painting is really beautiful.

The wrist bones are slightly raised, and those deep-socketed eyes are staring intently at the canvas.

He is like a god who is creating human beings, endowing the dry and decayed body with the soul.

Wen Ling couldn't understand his paintings, so he stared at the face that was enough to drive everyone crazy for a long time.

Gradually, the drowsiness hit like a tide, and Wen Ling's little brain began to grow little by little.

Wen Ling couldn't hold it back in the end, curled up on the small bench and dozed off.

............

Rubbing his eyes, Wen Ling finally woke up.

Looking at the dusk outside, Wen Ling was startled.

Oops!An inattentive person has slept for so long! !

The jacket on his body slipped off slightly, and Wen Ling raised his hand subconsciously to catch it.

The soft feel symbolizes the expensive price, and the jacket has a unique fragrance. Wen Ling doesn't know what brand of perfume it is, but it smells good.

Cold and hot, is a very contradictory feeling.

"Are you awake?" In the dimly lit room, the deep voice was full of weariness, and he watched Wen Ling looking at him with sleepy eyes, clean and innocent, with a little embarrassment.

Ah... such a beautiful rabbit, it would be a pity to destroy it, right?

Wen Ling hurriedly put him on the chair and stood up, but staying in a sleeping position for a long time made his legs a little numb, and the moment he stood up, he lost his strength and fell straight forward.

Song Lu raised his hand almost subconsciously, wanting to hug him.

But he is now in a wheelchair, and the distance is far from enough.

So, Wen Ling half-kneeled on the ground, and rushed towards that embarrassing position with her small face.

After a short muffled groan, Wen Ling stood up from the ground almost on the same hands and feet.

His expression was full of panic, his white jade-like cheeks were dyed crimson at the moment, reflecting the clouds outside.Very cute.

Song Lu's Adam's apple rolled, and his breathing was a little disordered. He looked at the little guy so anxiously that he didn't even know where to put his hands. After a long time, he said mercifully: "I'll let you go this time, there will be no next time." .”

Wen Ling nodded like a pounding garlic, and made a "thank you" gesture with his palms together.

Song Lu tore off the tape around the drawing board, and Wen Ling walked over to help him take the drawing.

Glancing lightly from the corner of the eye, Wen Ling was startled and almost missed the painting.

The people in the painting are a small group, sitting on a small bench, like a kindergarten waiting for parents to pick up their children.

The appearance of dozing off with eyes closed also looks a little funny and cute.

This is... himself?

It looks like a painting! !

Seeing his extremely happy face, Song Lu patted his head happily: "Put the painting away, and I will punish you if you lose it."

Wen Ling nodded vigorously, then carefully put the painting in the frame, holding it in his arms like a treasure.

When they went out, the long-haired man was gone. The driver waited outside for a long time, helped Song Lu into the car, and the car drove towards the manor.

In the car, Song Lu suddenly knocked on the armrest of the seat and glanced at Wen Ling.

"Since you will follow me in the future, you must remember that at any time, you must know who is the master."

These words sounded like a warning or an admonishment, Wen Ling nodded obediently in response, guessing in his heart that Song Lu might be angry because of what happened in the morning.

After returning to the manor, Wen Ling's shrill voice echoed throughout the room. Wen Ling was taken aback, and subconsciously squeezed the corner of Song Lu's clothes tightly against him.

The corners of Song Lu's lips tugged slightly, revealing a look of obsession.

He patted Wen Ling's head, held his slightly cold hands in his palms, and then sat in the wheelchair with cold eyes: "What happened?"