I opened a bookstore in ancient times

Fu Gezi's tone was low, and Su Yao suddenly panicked.

Fu Ling's hand was on his waist, and Su Yao suddenly began to worry, whether he should do it directly on the desk...

According to Fu Gezi's curiosity to develop and unlock new poses, maybe...

Su Yao thought this way, but Fu Ling saw it, and moved closer to his ear: "We're not here. It's cold and hard, and I'm afraid it will hurt your body."

Su Yao dodged slightly, and the pigeon came up and kissed Su Yao's ear again.

Boss Su is most sensitive to his ears.

As soon as the pigeon's warm breath fluttered, Su Yao couldn't help shivering slightly.

The tips of the ears instantly turned red.

The little rabbit is white and tender, with red ears, so cute.

Fu Gezi frowned, and wrapped his arms around Su Yao's waist: "Shall we try the one on page No. 15 tonight? You also said you wanted to try it yesterday. Unfortunately, I'm too tired..."

"You said you wanted to try it, but I didn't." Su Yao immediately retorted.

"Okay, I want to try, I want to play."

Fu Gezi hugged the beauty and said in a low voice, "You play with me, okay?"

Fu Dage's tone was hazy and ambiguous, the brazier in the room was burning brightly, and the room was filled with warm air.

Quite hot and dry.

But Su Yao was still awake.

He glanced at the pen left by the pigeon on the case, and only frowned: "Not good. If you want to write a manuscript, you are not a man."

Fu Gezi's eyebrows drooped instantly.

Fu whispered: "I obviously have other ways to prove that I am a man..."

Su Yao took the attitude of "I don't listen, I don't listen, I don't listen": "It's useless to say anything else, write quickly."

Su Yao stuffed the pen into the pigeon's hand.

The pigeon held it aggrievedly, and then leaned its head on Su Yao's shoulder: "Then how much should I write tonight before I can play page No.15 with you?"

Mention No.15 page again...

Su Yao and Fu Gezi had settled manuscript fees so many times, and they still blushed when they mentioned these things.

The cheeky pigeon always said these words without blushing.

The broken hair of the pigeon rubbed against Su Yao's neck and shoulders, and Su Yao was hot for a while, so he hardened his heart: "I can't write much. You have delayed the manuscript for too long. You should write the manuscript at this time, and there can be no rewards."

A certain coo groaned in great disappointment.

Leaning on Su Yao's shoulder for a while, then rubbing against it again: "Then can you not play page No.15? We tried the one on page 26, how about using that one tonight?"

Su Yao: ...

What does Fu Dagezi pretend to be in his mind every day?

There is no story book in the head, it is full of yellow waste.

Su Yao shook his head: "No..."

Before he finished refusing a sentence, the pigeon hugged him, rubbed back and forth, and cried loudly: "You can't do this, I have hard work without credit! Don't I have to give some sweetness to rehabilitate! I write a day for nothing. Su, you don’t even feel sorry for me! Do you dislike my poor work, do you not want to settle the manuscript fee with me, do you..."

The big pigeon fluttered back and forth, and if Su Yao didn't let go, he would make a fuss all night.

Why did you find out that the big pigeon is so cute when you are about to get married?

Su Yao then remembered that the big pigeon did the same thing when it was drunk.

This person may have a lively temperament in the beginning, but because of his status and status, he always had a cold face.

Su Yao was intimate with him, and he showed his true nature.

nature.

The nature is coo coo coo.

Su Yaoben was a little soft-hearted, and when he read these two words, his tone was serious: "You promised me that you will write today, and you must keep your word. If you write well, we will pay the manuscript fee. If you don't write a word, you will not write a single word in the future." Don't touch me again for three days."

Su Yao's tone was more serious, and the cuckoo stopped making trouble. After pondering for a while, he kissed the beauty shamelessly: "I'll write well, so can I be No. 15..."

"Can't!"

Su Yao held him down, blushing quite a bit, whispered, "Look at me, my back hurts, I still have things to do tomorrow..."

The beauty said it would be uncomfortable, so the pigeon naturally didn't try it.

The pigeon asked in a low voice: "Is the 26th page okay? I think you were quite comfortable yesterday..."

"Write your manuscript!"

Su Yao was full of embarrassment and looked at the pigeon angrily.

Fu Gezi raised the corner of his mouth, kissed Su Yao again, and then began to write.

Mr. Getai finally started to write the manuscript.

It's already [-]:[-] PM.

But when the pigeon is focused, its efficiency is really high.

Write fast.

The night was dark, the lights in the room were burning, and there was a faint smell of charcoal fire, which was warm on the face.

Although Fu Gezi wrote quickly, his handwriting was not too scribbled, and he was still as handsome as ever.

Su Yao followed along, enjoying himself. After Fu Ling finished writing a chapter, he picked it up to dry and put it neatly aside.

This time, I wrote it heartily, and after an hour of writing, there was a small stack of manuscripts on the table.

After Su Yao tidied up, Ge Zi's hand was still on his waist: "Boss Su, bring me the box in the drawer."

In the drawer was an exquisite small box of rosewood. Su Yao opened it and took a look, but thought it was ink pad, so she didn't ask any more questions.

At this time, Fu Gezi asked, Su Yao thought he was going to write a chapter, and said with a smile: "I also think that today's writing is very good, even a draft, it should be written a chapter."

Fu Ling just shook his head, then smiled: "You don't know what this is?"

Su Yao opened it, and saw a thin box of bright red ointment, which smelled like flowers.

There are also clusters of flowers carved on the red sandalwood box, which are peonies from old Beijing.

National color Tianxiang.

Su Yao was curious: "It's more delicate than ordinary ink pads, where did you buy them?"

"I didn't buy it. My third aunt made it, so I'll bring you a box." Fu Ling smiled, "This is a rouge cream made of flowers. You really haven't seen it before."

Su Yao had never seen this before.

He became more and more confused: "...do you use this as ink pad?"

"It's too wasteful to make ink pads."

Fu Ling laughed a little nervously, changed another brush, and looked at Su Yao: "I will write the manuscript obediently tonight, and Boss Su will keep his word."

Su Yao's face was slightly hot, but he still didn't understand the relationship between this and the rouge paste.

He was slightly startled, and then he noticed that Fu Ling put his hand on his belt.

Su Yao hurriedly held him down: "The final fee is fine, I can't be here, it's all manuscripts, and there are candlesticks..."

There seemed to be some wind blowing outside, making the window lattices rattle slightly.

The weather is getting colder and winter is coming.

Fu Ling glanced at the burning brazier in the room, then gently tugged at the belt of his clothes, and smiled: "I'm not here to pay the manuscript fee. But before the manuscript fee is paid, there are some things that need to be done here."

As soon as Su Yao's belt was undone, the neckline was loosened. The autumn clothes were originally layered, but now they were scattered one by one, revealing the fair neck and shoulders.

Su Yao couldn't help holding on to it: "What tricks are you going to play again?"

Su Yao grasped the skirt loosely, revealing a section of white collarbone.

Quite seductive.

The pigeon took the rouge and dipped it in the pen: "Just now I wrote that Zhou Yi's painting in Lingquan Villa shocked everyone, did Boss Su see it?"

It's a very shocking episode.

Zhou Yi learned of a martial arts secret, took advantage of the gathering of the culprits in Lingquan Villa, and deliberately drew a picture as a metaphor for the past.

It's a wonderful play.

Su Yao also watched very happily.

Fu Gezi raised his eyebrows and smiled: "Then it suddenly occurred to me that I used to say that I was good at drawing, but I never drew for you. Today, my hands are itchy."

Su Yao looked at Fu Ling's narrow eyes, and had a vague premonition.

Sure enough, he pushed aside Su Yao's clothes, picked up the pen and touched Su Yao's collarbone, and raised the corner of his lips: "I am the best at drawing plum blossoms. The first time Boss Su met me, he gave me plum blossoms. I will draw one for you." , as a gift in return."

Before Su Yao said whether to answer or not, the pigeon had already kissed the corner of Su Yao's lips: "I won't play No.15 page today, nor will I play No.20 page six, just let me draw, okay?"

Pigeon's tone is low, and he has quickly entered the state of final payment.

The seamless switching between work and life is also very powerful.

Su Yao had no choice but to say: "That's all for finishing the painting, I can't be here...uh..."

Before Su Yao could finish her sentence, Fu Ling kissed her deeply.

Fu Gezi's rouge-stained pen was still touching Su Yao's neck and shoulders, itching slightly.

Fu Ling entangled deeply for a while, then slowly let go, and kissed Su Yao's cheek and ear, and then down to the neck and shoulders and collarbone, and then pulled off Su Yao's clothes.

The layers of clothes slipped off, revealing the white shoulders and neck. Fu Ling supported Su Yao's shoulder with one hand, and carefully sketched on the left shoulder with the other hand.

Su Yao only felt itchy and couldn't help trembling slightly.

Fu Gezi was very focused, and only kissed lightly on the collarbone: "Don't move."

This color of rouge is extremely bright red, reflected on Su Yao's fair complexion, the extreme contrast makes Fu Ling's eyes a little darker.

But not yet.

With his outstanding painting skills, it is easy to describe a few plum blossoms.

But writing on the body of the sweetheart, it aroused a surge of emotion.

On the left shoulder, Su Yao can also see it.

He nodded slightly, and saw the delicate pen tip falling softly on his body, but it could bring out some sharp strokes, just like the person who wrote the pen.

Sometimes meticulous and considerate, sometimes deep and indifferent, and sometimes sharp.

Su Yao's shoulders itch slightly, but his heart is full of waves.

Seeing Fu Ling's focused eyebrows so close at hand, she couldn't help but bowed her head and kissed her.

Fu Gezi never thought that Su Yao could still kiss him at this time.

Su Yao has always been thin-skinned and easily shy, but now she took the initiative.

Fu Gezi paused at the tip of his pen.

When a red plum blossom is ready to be drawn, the pen is put down, leaving an ambiguous streak of red on the white paper of the book case.

The rouge made of fresh flowers has always been edible.

People and flowers complement each other, and the ultimate color is quite soul-stirring.

Fu Ling immediately kissed Zhuoyan's Hongmei.

Su Yao couldn't help pushing him, and laughed again: "I just said that you are very good, so this is what you drew?"

Fu Ling tore off the belt completely, threw it casually, and put his arms around the beauty's slender waist: "No matter how good I am at painting, I'm not as good as you."