Xiaobaihua is not pretending anymore!

Dr. Liang came to Zhuangyuan Road tremblingly with his assistants. To his surprise, he saw a sleeping teenager with closed eyes in a house surrounded by wild roses.

The boy's skin is particularly fair, not the cold white of foreigners, but glazed, and the corners of his eyes are smudged with a small blush, showing a fragile feeling of fragility due to illness.

He was surprised not because of this handsome appearance, but because he had seen this boy three years ago.

At that time, the blind boy covered in blood was held in He Shanting's arms. It was the first time he saw He Shanting treat a person so tenderly, restraining his whole body's indifference.

Dr. Liang looked at the man guarding the bed and suppressed his thoughts. He took the boy's temperature with a thermometer: "The body temperature is 38.7. Just take some medicine. It's best to wipe the body with warm water."

After Dr. Liang left, He Shanting poured a glass of water to feed the young man the medicine. With his slender fingers, he gently pried the tablet open Song Zui's jaw and stuffed it into his mouth. As soon as he fed it, he turned his head and spit it out.

He Shanting: ………

Probably because the young man thought it tasted bad and refused to swallow the medicine. After three feedings to no avail, he hugged the young man on his lap, squeezed Song Zui's cheek with one hand and fed the medicine with the other.

This is the end of the medicine.

After feeding the medicine, He Shanting hugged the boy and wiped his body, while Song Zui in the dream only felt the water-soaked towel carefully wiped his hot skin, which was very cool and comfortable.

He unconsciously pressed his whole body against the other person, allowing the other person to hug him like a rag doll, obediently sitting still.

Song Zui felt itchy when he rubbed his neck. He tilted his head to avoid the towel, and unconsciously rubbed his head against the man's hand, writhing softly until the other man held him down.

He Shanting looked down at the boy who only cared about his own comfort, pinched the sick boy, put down the long blade, got up and went to the bathroom.

Song Zui, who was sick, felt that he had slept for a long time. He dreamed that he was sitting on a golden sand dune, the bright sun was shining on him, and the small leaves that grew out made small noises in the warm wind, and other things Can't remember either.

When he woke up, he found that it was already the next day, and he missed Monday's class successfully. He had to call the counselor, and the counselor agreed to issue a leave note.

So he sent a message asking Wu Zhen to help him make up the leave slip.

[Wu Zhen] No problem, leave it to me, are you seriously ill?

【Song Zui】It's almost better

He was not used to bothering others, so he sent Wu Zhen a red envelope instead, turned off his phone and felt empty in his stomach, and suspected that he would starve to death if he didn't eat any more.

Figures of Mapo Tofu, Diving Crucian Carp, and Spicy Rabbit Head appeared in front of Song Zui's eyes. Just when his stomach was growling with hunger, he smelled the faint fragrance of porridge.

He Shanting took the porcelain bowl and walked to the bed and sat down. He didn't miss the slightly disappointed eyes of the young man: "Aren't you satisfied with making porridge for you?"

Song Zui immediately shook his head.

He believed that as long as he nodded his head, the other party would pour out the porridge and leave an empty bowl with a smile, telling him not to eat if he was not satisfied.

He Shanting looked at Song Zui who was sitting on the bed, wondering what the young man was meditating on, and reached out to pick up a thin-handled spoon to feed the porridge.

Song Zui came back to his senses and took the bowl and spoon: "I can eat it myself."

He hadn't reached the point where he couldn't even eat by himself, and just as he took it, he heard the man snicker.

"Do you know how to be polite at this time?"

Hearing this, Song Zui couldn't figure out when he was being rude. He was careful not to kick the quilt indiscriminately when he slept at night. Like the other party, he didn't know how to write the word polite.

He suppressed his doubts and drank the porridge. He thought it was bland white porridge, but unexpectedly, there were very thin shredded chicken in it, soaked in just the right amount of freshness, and it would not be greasy at all. He drank the whole bowl of porridge without knowing it. .

The man watched him finish the whole bowl of porridge, and naturally wiped his soft lips with a tissue, which seemed to stay there for a while.

When the other party went out with an empty bowl, Song Zui couldn't help but pursed his lips, wondering if it was his illusion, today's A Ting was extraordinarily intimate with him, probably because he was thinking too much.

After drinking the porridge, his hands and feet were no longer so weak, and he could feel his body slowly recovering, but he was still a little tired, so he got out of bed and went downstairs for activities.

Song Zui sat on the sofa and teased Song Tiantian with a cat teasing stick, when he suddenly saw the man carrying the flower pot on the shelf to the corner of the yard, and planted the roses that had been carefully cared for in the pot into the soil.

He heaved a long sigh of relief in his heart, and finally he could not look at the rose plant, but after thinking about it, his idea was more vicious, so he wrapped a thick shawl and walked over to make an evaluation: "It's a pity to plant it outside."

"Do you really think so?"

He Shanting turned on the faucet to clean the flowerpot, wiped the water droplets with a cloth and asked the boy slowly.

The young man subconsciously nodded, and after nodding, he noticed that the other party was looking at him with a half-smile, and he had a bad premonition and asked, "What's wrong with me thinking so?"

"Did you forget what you said yesterday?"

These words woke up Song Zui, who was already sleepy. He couldn't remember what happened yesterday at all, let alone what he had said. He only felt a black blade pressed against his butt, standing precariously on the edge of the cliff.

Although his head was still a little groggy, he quickly recalled in his mind, could it be what he said in his illness?Not impossible.

He felt that his face was in jeopardy, and he tried his best to pull it back: "It's just nonsense and you can't take it seriously. You can't take it seriously, right?"

He Shanting glanced at the young man who asked him confidently. As expected, he turned his face and refused to recognize anyone when he recovered from his illness. He couldn't hear the emotion, and put the cleaned flower pot on the young man's head with his backhand.

Juvenile scumbag.

He turned around and went into the house and went upstairs.

I don't know that the boy who was dubbed as a scumbag took the dangling flower pot off his head. What did he want the flower pot for?It must be complete revenge.

Just as the boy was standing there thinking about where he had offended the other party, the doorbell of the small courtyard rang, and he went to open the courtyard door with a flowerpot in his hand.

Opening the door, Wu Zhen and the sports committee stood outside the door, Song Tiantian affectionately circled around Wu Zhen's feet, Wu Zhen squatted down and fed the canned mackerel he brought to the kitten, and the kitten screamed after eating it.

The sports committee handed him a fruit basket made of bamboo: "You haven't come to school for the past two days. Wu Zhen said you caught a cold after the game. We bought some fruits on behalf of the class and came to see you."

The sports commissioner's eyes were puzzled by the flower pot that fell on the boy's hand, Song Zui calmly put down the flower pot and took the fruit basket: "It's too expensive."

"It's nothing."

The sports committee quickly denied it.

Song Zui thought he was being polite and didn't ask any more, probably people are soft when they are sick, seeing his classmates come to visit him, his heart suddenly warmed up, and he took him to the sofa and sat down.

The sports committee was afraid that he wouldn't know about yesterday's sports meeting and talked about it: "Yesterday you didn't know that our class set a record in the school. It was the most medals in team events. The leaders of the school specifically mentioned our class in their speeches. about you."

Song Zui unscrewed the thermos cup and took a sip of water. He didn't understand what it had to do with him. He slept all day yesterday and didn't even go to the sports meeting.

Seeing that Song Zui had nothing serious to worry about, Wu Zhen felt relieved, looked at the bright and clean house, and outside the window was the yard with swaying flowers and branches, feeling strong doubts.

Based on what he knew about Song Zui, it was impossible to rent such an expensive house, let alone [-] to [-] per month. When he was puzzled, he looked up and saw a man with a mixed face sitting on a chair on the second floor.

Wu Zhen recognized the Eastern European wild model who came to the dormitory door twice and three times. He gradually came to understand that the other party must have cried, made trouble and hanged himself for rent. Raising a wild model is really expensive.

Just in case the sports committee ran into this scene, the school newspaper published the gossip that the pure college students had adopted male models, and Wu Zhen hurriedly dragged the eloquent sports committee back to school.

Song Zui closed the door and sat back on the sofa. He stared at the fruit on the coffee table, and suddenly felt that it was not a bad thing to get closer to people. When he was sick, someone cared about him, and he didn't need to lie on the hospital bed alone.

To be precise, he is not alone, if not for Ating, he might have endured the fever alone, no one gave him medicine, and no one made himself porridge.

Thinking of this, he decided not to worry about the flower pot, and saw the person upstairs walking over and said generously, "Thank you for taking care of me these two days."

He Shanting's unexpectedly awkward young man suddenly changed his temperament, as if the fox fur that exploded on his body suddenly subdued, he calmly closed the company document disguised as a magazine: "If you want to thank me, do me a favor."

"What are you busy with?"

Song Zui didn't need to think about it to know that he was helping to buy something. I hope it wasn't too expensive, and I almost couldn't write my thesis.

Unexpectedly, instead of buying something, he asked for his advice: "Where is the best place to confess your love?"

The touch that Song Zui had just felt disappeared without a trace, he was sick and this man was thinking about how to chase someone, and there were two villains fighting in his mind.

The villain in white said that if he likes someone, he should wish him happiness. The villain in black said to be damn happy. Finally, the villain in black said reservedly: "Just find a place, it's too formal. People scared away."

The man nodded flatly.

"What time is good then?"

"night."

Song Zui pretended to be convinced when he spoke, but in fact, what he thought was to find a random place to confess his love without failure.

"Do you need to prepare fireworks at night?"

"Too cheesy."

He was worried that the other party would be suspicious, but the man responded one by one without any precautions. The young man felt strange, and was about to lie down on the bed for a while, when suddenly the man raised his eyelids and spoke.

"Then I'll arrange the house."

Song Zui had a breath in his chest, and it was fine to confess his love to the girl and he would take it home, but he had no right to be angry, so he could only go back to the bed and touch his chest, telling himself not to be angry.

After an unknown amount of time, he lay on the bed and stared at the white ceiling. That girl was about to come. His nose was a bit stuffy, and his breathing rate was so slow that he thought he was a little zombie who couldn't move.

Song Zui felt that his condition was getting worse, but he couldn't stay on the bed any longer, so he left the room wrapped in a thick knitted shawl and climbed up to the roof.

He sat on the round roof, his slender legs dangling in the air, looking down at the scattered roses, the moonlight shone on him, like the king of his own world.

It's a pity that the moment he sat on the roof, an uninvited guest followed him. Song Zui turned his face away and didn't want to pay attention. Anyway, he is now a patient. It's normal for a patient to be in a bad mood, and he can still infect diseases.

The man beside him said to himself: "I like someone alone."

He turned his head speechlessly, I fucking know you like someone, I've said it almost [-] times, but he was startled for a second or two when he turned his head.

The man leaned casually beside him. Today's moonlight is light-colored, and the man's eyes are also light-colored, which complements his complexion brilliantly and brightly. The deep shadows clearly outline the jawline.

Song Zui turned his head indifferently, using his face to seduce the little girl, he didn't want to listen anymore, but the other party was still talking to him.

"Although he is awkward and doesn't like to talk, he may scold me in his heart, and he may have a tendency to domestic violence in the future. He only knows how to read books but not me, but I still like him very much, and I want to hide it in my heart. "

Song Zui didn't know how he felt, he just felt that a sentence was like a soft thorn in his heart, which didn't hurt at the time and then hurt.

If the other party really likes that girl so much, he can't help but regret his actions. He doesn't know if it's too late to say it now, but when he turned his head and was about to speak, there were a pair of cold hands on his face.

They were shrouded in a pale creamy moonlight, the blue windmill creaked and swayed on the roof, and the strong fragrance of flowers wafted in the wind.

The man held his face and stared at him seriously.

"So are you talking about a relationship?"

"My little rose."

The author has something to say: Ting Ting: He is a scumbag in his youth but I still love him very much