Blood Earl and Millennium White Fox

It was mid-May now, the sky was high and the clouds were clear, the wind was clear, the sky was blue without any blemishes, and there was a faint fragrance of flowers floating around. The students had gradually shed their complicated coats and began to put on refreshing summer clothes. Girls We can't wait to show off our colorful wardrobe.

"Lanqing Academy" is a famous aristocratic school that accommodates from junior high school to university. Basically, the students here are all descendants of families with certain backgrounds. Of course, there are also very few children from ordinary families. Students with a certain specialty are usually free of tuition fees, while those children from rich families are naturally charged a lot.

It's just that the reputation of "Lanqing College" is really good. No matter how expensive it is, rich people still send their children here, just because of the unparalleled security system, excellent educational resources, and it saves time and money. Heart, after all, you can solve all the troubles from junior high school to doctorate in one go.

Zhang Ruifeng was born in an ordinary family. His father worked in a small company and was engaged in a simple document writing job, while his mother was a primary school teacher. He was very ordinary since he was a child. Walk forward step by step according to the established direction stipulated by society.

The special case is that after he graduated from junior high school, he was painting in the park by chance, and was met by the principal of Lanqing College. Then, he became a special art student of Lanqing College, and after graduating from university, he finally chose to stay in Lanqing College, became an art teacher.

Life, still, is uneventful.

His salary is very high, and soon with the help of his parents, he bought a small house with two bedrooms and one living room. His life is always so clean, even a little monotonous. He likes to stay at home and repeats the same thing every day. Going to class, eating, painting, and occasionally going out to see my parents. As a young man, my life is like a Puritan.

However, only he knows that he is ordinary, but because of a dream, he becomes extraordinary, and that is also a secret that he wants to keep, which belongs to him alone.

The dreams that have been recurring since childhood, the era is the Republic of China not far away, there are people with things and stories, he is like a spectator, watching the prosperity in the dream, but the dream always makes him feel inexplicably familiar, He will also be heartbroken, bitter, tearful, and moved, although many times, they are just vague shadows.

Sometimes the dream is misty and hazy. On a bridge, a woman with a vague face is embarrassed in the rain, but a beautiful and startling figure; The gorgeous women laughed loudly, but he could always feel that he was looking for someone in the wine glasses that were criss-crossing; sometimes in an exquisite garden like a Suzhou garden, an indistinct man was holding a paintbrush , with a wine glass in one hand, and a pen in the other hand, tracing on the drawing paper...

However, whenever he wanted to take a closer look at the person in his dream, he could only helplessly watch the picture become more and more blurred, until he was completely immersed in a fog, and finally woke up with a long sigh and a heart full of regret.

The dream always seems to lead him to go in one direction, but he can't find a way out, and who is that woman who always appears?Why, every time I dream of her, I always feel inexplicable heartache and longing? ...

Until he picked up the paintbrush by chance and drew a blurry scene that often appeared in his dreams, he could never do without the paintbrush. Gradually, there were more and more paintings at home, some were garden landscapes, and some were sensual dogs and horses in ambiguous colors. , but the most was a woman in a cheongsam.

He didn't know what the woman looked like, sometimes he could only capture a silhouette, a side face, a look in the eyes, and a back. However, when put together in the end, the image of the woman became clear.

He was ecstatic, but wandering vaguely with some contradictions. He longed to draw a complete portrait of a woman, but he was at a loss. After he painted it, what next?Once he loses this last bit of support, this bit of mystery, then what?

He doesn't know if this is a kind of mental illness. However, he is always obsessed with his dreams. He never falls in love or entertains. Except for class, he just draws pictures, draws the stories in his dreams, and then is completely obsessed with paintings. The story in the story, the deeper infatuation, the woman in the dream, even if you know that she is in love with the man in your dream.

He was afraid that one day, he would collapse. He thought about stopping the painting, but in the end he couldn't resist his love and miss for the woman, so he picked up the painting brush and continued to paint...

Therefore, he finally sold the unfinished oil painting, which only had a blank face, to a foreign fashion design teacher who also taught in "Lanqing College". Although, he regretted selling it countless times. The one he was most satisfied with was the portrait of a woman.

"Lanqing College" has beautiful scenery, green trees and red flowers everywhere, shaded by vines, and in the gradually summer campus, the girls are like colorful butterflies flying around the campus, spreading the fragrance of summer.

But today, the teenagers who are used to beauties all focus their eyes on a delicate boy, but seeing that person's bright eyes and white teeth, skin like creamy fat, under the sunlight, smooth and jade-like, with a beautiful oval face, long Her hair flutters and her phoenix eyes sparkle, she shuttles around the campus, leaving a string of laughter like silver bells.

And the girls who like sunny and handsome guys on campus are all looking straight at this moment, the boy with an indifferent and warm smile on his face, lovingly looking at the boy in overalls who is bouncing around in front of him, with a tall and straight figure, A face as handsome as Apollo's sculpture, with blond hair scattered casually, blue eyes, as deep as the starry sky, full of smiles.

"Xue'er, run slowly." The handsome blond guy spoke softly, like the melodious baritone voice of a cello gliding past his ears.

The person who spoke seemed not to see all the men and women around who were stupefied, and walked quickly to the boy, took the boy's hand, and brushed his hair, "Xue'er, slow down, be careful of sweating."

The young man smiled slightly, he stretched out his hand and pulled the belt of the overalls on his body, and kicked the stones on the ground with both feet, "But, Xueer wants to find brother Du Weiran soon!"

The man smiled helplessly, "Do you know where he is?"

"Ah!..." The boy's face immediately turned red, like a ripe apple, cute and alluring, he bit his red lip, blinked his eyes, and looked at the man, "Then what should Xueer do?"

"Of course, find out where the art room is first." The man took the boy's hand and prepared to move on.

However, the boy suddenly grabbed a passing boy, smiled sweetly, blinked, and asked softly, "Brother, where is the studio?"

"Ah?..." Oh my god!What should I say?What did he just ask me?

Yin Xue pursed her mouth slightly, and asked the man behind her aggrievedly, "Brother Lu Yien, Xueer seems to have scared this little brother, is Xueer ugly..."

I saw the man staring dumbfoundedly at the boy at Snow Song, that glance was cold and sharp, like a sharp sword piercing through the heart, making the boy shudder all over, he lowered his head, not daring to look at the boy again, his thoughts But it is much clearer, "The art room is...in the innermost classroom on the fourth floor of the brick-red building in the university department."

"Ah! Thank you, little brother." After saying that, Xue Yin couldn't wait to pull the man and head towards the direction the boy pointed.

The backs of the two looked so beautiful in the afterglow of the sun, as if they were immortals.