After being dressed as a scumbag, the fascination was reborn

On the seventh day of January, the sky was fine.

On the official road from Changzhou to Yandu, a group of brisk and orderly guards held spears and kept their eyes on them. They surrounded the two carriages in a very safe range and moved forward. The red cherry blossoms on the spears were floating in the wind, silent Precipitation in the entire team.

A corner of the curtain of the carriage was lifted by the wind, and a very finely carved "≡" symbol was exposed on the wooden board on the window sill. At the same time, the second carriage began to bump along with the potholes on the Qingshi Road, and a joking sound overflowed from inside the carriage. Yue snorted.

The driver of the carriage wore a bamboo hat and lowered his head as if he hadn't heard anything.

Master Song was jolted awake abruptly.

His mind was in chaos, but he noticed that his body was abnormally hot. There seemed to be a person sitting on his lap, which was heavy. When he raised his hands to rub his temples, he felt that his hands and feet were a little stiff. A pair of extremely beautiful eyes.

Those are the favorites of Master Song's aesthetics. The standard peach blossom eyes are charming without knowing it. His reflection is reflected in the bottom of Qinglingling's eyes. Half faded, revealing the delicate collarbone and beautiful neck, which is stunning at first glance.

... No, that's not the point.

The point is that it seems to be a man.

Still sitting on his lap.

Still hooking his neck.

His gaze fell to the place where his other hand was resting, and Song Shihun's chaotic mind suddenly seemed to have been poured with cold water, and he was so awake that he could no longer be sober.

It's just that the heart is cold, but the body is still hot.

Master Song looked down and saw that he was wearing an unfamiliar long coat. A layer of black coat-style clothes had been taken off and thrown on the table next to him. It should belong to him. The remaining layer of belt had been undone, and his chest was loose. , there is a tendency to slide down below the waist.

The beauty on his body was sitting on his lap, half leaning against his arms, their cheeks were only a few feet away, so close that they could hear each other's heavy breathing, the white lotus-like arm slid out of his shirt and hung on him. neck.

His eyes were half downcast, his eyelashes trembled slightly, his face was blushing from embarrassment or a physical reaction, and he leaned over gently, as if he wanted to kiss him.

The lips are close to the eyes.

"Bang" sound.

Master Song withdrew his hand back, his pupils constricted in horror, before he could speak, he just dodged back on conditioned reflex, tilted his head, and hit the wooden board of the carriage.

pain.

fuck.

The beauty was stunned for a moment: "Brother? Are you okay?"

He stretched out his hand, as if to see how Master Song was hit. Master Song was stiff and didn't understand the situation at all. He originally wanted to see the situation first, but the beauty's movement made her posture even more subtle. stand up.

Master Song's breathing was stagnant, and he felt like he was going to die.

Coincidentally, the carriage bumped again.

The beauty exclaimed in a low voice, probably because she couldn't sit still, her body swayed, and the hand that was about to touch Master Song's hair turned subconsciously, so both arms wrapped around his neck.

Master Song couldn't take it anymore, although he knew that once he encountered this classic passage in time-traveling novels: appearing in a strange place, seeing a stranger, hearing someone calling him a strange name-he must not speak indiscriminately, so as not to startle the snake, but The current situation is a bit beyond his tolerance.

As soon as Master Song opened his mouth, his voice was so hoarse that even he was startled: "...you come down."

The beauty froze again: "What?"

Master Song coughed, and this time his voice was clearer: "...Come down first."

The beauty paused, said "oh", let go of her hands and stood up from his lap, and the messy clothes slid back along with his movements, covering his smooth, white and tender calves, until the bare feet, just stood beside him silently. The way he was arranging his clothes seemed a little aggrieved, which made Master Song inexplicably guilty.

...No, why is he guilty?

Master Song remembered that before he fell asleep, he was obviously working in the office. As a young and talented director, the four words that best fit his personality were workaholics. His daily routine was to choose scripts, recruit actors, and shoot Movies... never stop.

This morning, he planned to find a few notebooks to keep on file, but not many scripts caught his eye recently. He planned to start with novels, so he accidentally clicked on a strange novel called "A Pear Blossom Pressing a Begonia" .

He didn't notice the so-called "Danmei" label at first, and he didn't even understand what Danmei meant. He just clicked in and saw that there was a character with the same name as him.