Who calls this thing a god?

It is impossible to sleep in separate rooms.

There is no difference between living together and sleeping in separate rooms and not living together.

Qi You stared at the big bed in the master bedroom that looked softer and more comfortable than the staff dormitory, but his body seemed to be covered with cocklebur, making it uncomfortable to go up and down.

God is going to kill me.

Lu Chan, who took a shower before him, lay on one side, put down the book in his hand and waved to him.

The posture is as leisurely as a hunter looking at a slick little animal that has slipped into his trap.

With an old face, Qiyou wanted to be pulled to the center of the earth, so he bit the bullet and sat down beside the bed on the other side.

Tilting his head and thinking for a while, he suddenly turned over and lay flat on his back like a hero, as if what he was lying on was not a bed but a coffin.

Lu Chan laughed, and turned off the headlights in the bedroom, leaving only a small table lamp with a dim yellow light, probably because he took into account the feelings of a certain child.

He tucked in the quilt, pretended to be a modest gentleman, and said softly, "Little friend..."

"roll."

Lu Chan: "..."

It's not a stress response.

Qiyou is impatient.

He has always been used to sleeping on his side facing the wall. Whether the bed in Lu Chan's house is properly placed in the middle of the bedroom, he wished it were eight hundred miles away from the wall.

Besides, even if he was next to the wall, he didn't want to turn his back on Lu Chan, and it was even more impossible to face him.

So Kiyo had to lie down facing the ceiling, an angry corpse.

Lu Chan sighed softly, groped under the quilt to hold his hand, and said in a coaxing tone, "Come to chat?"

Qi You quickly closed his eyes in front of not hearing it.

Lu Chan didn't see it, and opened his mouth quickly.

"Every time you go back to the temple, do you go back whole?"

Qi You: "Yes."

"Are you alone in the temple?"

Qiyou thought to himself that this is some kind of bullshit question, so he said flatly, "There is also a cat."

"cat?"

Qiyou responded.

"Are you obedient?"

Pray for Yumo.

Not only disobedient, but also like to catch people to eat, and occasionally catch monsters to eat, especially you who talk a lot of nonsense, have an empty head, and eat one child at a time.

Lu Chan smiled softly, like a flying geese flying across the lake, ripples of water rippled out.

"I can't tell, my little Highness still takes care of pets."

Translate: You are such an asshole that you didn't take care of cats and dogs to death.

Qi You sneered, "I even raised chickens."

"and then?"

"Slaughter and eat meat."

Lu Chan: "..."

He stretched out his hand to tuck the quilt for Qiyou, and his eyes wandered over his hair tips, forehead, slightly frowning brows, trembling eyelashes, and finally stuck to his sugar-colored lips.

I can't move my eyes when I see it.

Lu Chan softened his tone again: "What else have you raised?"

Accompanied by his voice, Qiyou's mood gradually calmed down unconsciously, and a cluster of flames ignited warmth in his chest.

"……dog."

"Oh, is there a name?"

Qiyou seemed to have remembered something, a smile appeared on the corner of his lips, "Yes, it's called Dahuang."

Lu Chan couldn't help but laugh.

With the hand under the quilt, he gently pushed his five fingers apart, and carefully closed them slowly.

When will his little highness understand...

Lu Chan clasped his fingers with him, just feeling disappointed, but inadvertently caught a glimpse of Qiyou's lightly furrowed brows gradually relaxing.

A ridiculous thought suddenly rushed into Lu Chan's mind, and his heart beat uncontrollably.

Could it be that your highness actually...

Just as he was about to confirm further, he heard Qiyou's steady breathing, and his chest rose and fell slowly and regularly.

It was as if he had fallen asleep.

Lu Chan sighed silently, and leaned over to kiss His Royal Highness a gentle goodnight kiss on his forehead.

It's forgiveness, it's hope,

He adjusted the pillow, closed his eyes, intertwined his fingers with His Royal Highness, and spent a dreamland together.

But Lu Chan didn't know that after he fell asleep, Qiyou quietly opened his eyes, turned his face to look at his eyebrows and eyes, with a complicated expression.

……

He was dreaming again.

In the dream, I do not know that I am a guest.

Dressed in white clothes, he walked along the long stone steps, through the winding corridors, and passed by the fragrance of trees and flowers.

He smiled at the little boy who passed on the message and said, "Tell the Suzerain that to serve the gods, you have to live like chickens and ducks. Only by being close to the living beings can you show respect. Do you remember?"

The little boy gave a half-understood oh, eyes full of admiration, wrote down the words and respectfully saluted and left.

Looking at the bouncing back of the boy who passed on the rumor, he thought to himself: Whose family god loves to eat live chicken and duck, it would be strange if he didn't piss people off, it's really sick.

But in the dream, he was a guest, so he could only say so according to the "host", and then turned his head and left.

He didn't know how long and how far he had walked, and the rest of the scenery was just a passing cloud in his eyes.

Finally he stopped in front of a courtyard.

It was as if a bean flame was burning in his heart, burning his chest hot.

He heard himself calling softly, "Eleven."

The surrounding scenes dimmed one by one, only the boy in front of the stone table seemed to be hiding the light.

The boy didn't respond when he heard it, and sat lazily at the table basking in the sun.

He wondered in his heart: Why do we need to bask in the sun when it is already light.

"Master" shook his head helplessly and funny, and walked over with a good temper.

He was curious about the young man's appearance, and when he looked down, he saw a dense mist, and he couldn't see his face clearly, but he vaguely knew that this young man should be very good-looking.

It's the kind that makes people feel drunk and hot when they see it.

He stretched out his hand to press the boy's head, and reprimanded softly: "You don't tie your hair up."

The young man yawned nonchalantly, spreading his palms as if conjuring, and it turned out to be a red hairband.

Intentionally yin and yang, stretched out a long voice and said: "Please trouble the high priest."

The words "High Priest" were soaked between the young man's lips and teeth, as if wrapped in a layer of wine fragrance.

He poked the boy's head with his fingertips and reprimanded: "Don't talk like that."

Reaching out to take the hair band, he stood behind the boy, as if treating a porcelain doll, combing the long hair gently and carefully.

In the distance, birdsong sounded, long and lively.

Looking at the distant mountains, the boy propped his chin and said, "The demon market is open."

He paused and asked, "Want to go?"

The boy said, "I don't want to."

This child has always been lazy in surprises, throwing people outside, not bothering to move and hide for a while in case it rains.

But I read the picture book the day before yesterday, and it is said that the demon city is lively and interesting, which makes people yearn for it.

The young man struggled for a while, then said, "It's fine to go."

"Then I'll take you there," said the master.

But the guest thought in his heart that this young man might not be your younger brother, so he is so used to it.

The young man's tone was light, and he probably didn't have any expression on his face: "Stop doing this."

"Then do you eat?"

Why do guests still ask people if they eat or not? If a person can respond, he will have no backbone.

The boy is very spineless: "Eat."

he:"……"

Boy: "Are you serious?"

He just tied up his hair tie and nodded with a smile.

In the distance, faint lights can be seen lighting up one by one, like a fire dragon awakened.

The young man hesitated a little: "But you are human, so you must not enter the demon world."

"You can go if you want."

The boy's brain circuit was also quite strange, and he frowned and asked, "You're not a human anymore?"

he:"……"

The boy straightened his red clothes and said, "It's okay, I'll cover you."

He couldn't help laughing, and stretched out his hand to press the dangling head again: "Don't talk nonsense."

The words were harsh, but the expression was so gentle that it seemed to melt.

He took the boy down the mountain, hired a carriage, and put on a bamboo hat.

The white gauze in front of her was swaying slightly, she looked like a fairy, but she was more like a fairy than the one sitting next to her.

When I got out of the car, I saw a huge plaque hanging at the entrance of the street, with the word "Demon City" written in a pen, the handwriting was wild and unruly, and I wished to stick the last vertical letter of "city" into the ground.

The red lanterns are crowded and pulled from the entrance to the endless, shining red on people's faces.

The shops and stalls in the streets and alleys are next to each other, and they are so lively that they want to poke a hole in the sky.

The young man just walked to the street corner, and saw a person from a distance plunge into the water tank from east to west, his whole body twitched a few times, and his clothes fell apart like cabbage, and he saw a drunken little squirrel lying on the pile of water. Rag Burri was belching.

He put his hand on the young man's shoulder and was about to enter the market when a long halberd stopped them in front of them.

"Humans are not allowed to enter." The voice rumbled like thunder.

The "guest" thought to himself: You dare to stop anyone, and you will make the children unhappy later, maybe you will stab the basket—huh?Who are the children?

The young man squinted his eyes and saw a bodyguard with a pig's body and a lion's head wearing battle armor, holding a halberd in his hand, and glaring angrily, which was a bit majestic.

Too lazy to talk too much with others, he casually squeezed a ball of grievances and stretched them out to show his identity.

The guards thought he was some unjust dead ghost in the haystack, and couldn't look down on him at all. He hummed and screamed twice, then looked at "Master", "What about you?"

Before he could speak, the young man raised his eyebrows impatiently: "He is mine."

The guard raised his halberd with a straight face, as if he would strike someone at any time, "Humans are not allowed to enter, this is the rule of the demon city."

He rolled up his sleeves and said softly, "But I just saw a person go in, not a monster, let alone a god, what is the rule?"

The guard snorted, pointed to the golden basket under his feet and said, "Gold rules."

"Oh, rules."

The young man didn't take it seriously, and smiled, "I also have rules, he is mine, I must take him away, anyone who dares to stop me will be punished."

With a flip of his hand, the rustling wind started up with resentment, and all the ghosts howled, as if they wanted to poke a hole in the world before they were reconciled.

He hurriedly grabbed the young man's hand and twitched his palm lightly, "Eleven. Do not kill."

The young man turned his face away just to make fun of himself.

He shook his head helplessly, looked at the guard with a pale face, but his tone was not as gentle as before, "I am not a human race, this is my demon pattern, please have a look."

He lifted the sleeve of his left hand, exposing a section of his wrist.

I don't know what the guard saw. He took a breath, quickly put away the halberd, and said with a smile: "I offended you two. Please come in."

Walking in the bustling long street, the boy ate the snowflake cheese he bought, kicked a pebble away, and rolled away.

He took out a handkerchief and gently wiped the corners of the boy's lips, and said softly, "Eat slowly, I'll buy it for you if you like it."

The boy licked the milk stains on his lips, looked at him and said, "What did you show that pig just now?"

He was startled, and said with a smile: "It's nothing, it's just a fake demon pattern."

Looking at the young man's expression, he probably doesn't care much about this trivial matter, after all, in his eyes, it's all the same whether it's a human or a monster.

all the same……

He was a little dazed, and reached out to stroke the boy's head.

"Eleven, if one day I become a demon..."

The author has something to say: I want to start a campus novel for the next book, and I am very happy to accept the morbid paranoid attack and the skin. I don’t know if you like this setting, woo woo woo.