Oral period

After 10 minutes, Xia Jingzhe held the piping bag and began to regret her irrational behavior of going to the doctor in a hurry-if she wanted to go to the doctor, she should go to a "normal" place, two boys who are about 1.8 meters mixed with the girls, What's the matter with squeezing icing sugar on small biscuits wearing a lace apron.

In particular, he had half-length hair, which had to be tied up when making biscuits so as not to get in the way, and his body was thinner than his peers. He couldn't tell his height when he sat there, and he looked more like a quiet and delicate girl when he wore a mask. The staff members called him "Miss Sister" at first glance - the next second they were taken aback by the "Miss Sister" who spoke.

Zhen Xiao is quite self-aware of her craft, and she doesn't want to try it, so she pushed her share to Xia Jingzhe from the beginning, sitting opposite him and playing the role of a tool man who has nothing to do, and can't help but laugh out loud Come on, wait for the staff to leave before poking his thigh under the desk, repeating meaningfully: "Miss sister..." "Get out!" Xia Jingzhe's ears were completely red, and his lips were bitten by himself in embarrassment At first glance, it does look a bit like a girl, and you can see a beautiful girl from only half of her face.

The round biscuit embryos are pre-baked, and each person is divided into three pieces. There are also several piping bags filled with different colors of icing, and there is no reference book. What can be drawn depends on the individual's ability, maybe because of the free trial, The popularity of this classroom is quite hot. When they came, they just happened to be in time for the previous group to finish, so they barely escaped the fate of queuing. After a while, more people stood by and waited. I don’t know if it was his. Illusion, Xia Jingzhe always felt that there were more people around to watch him paint biscuits.

Facts proved that it was not an illusion. A few minutes later, two staff members walked up to him and handed him a small box of blank biscuit embryos. Okay, can you...cough cough, can you draw a few pieces for us too?"

He hasn't been approached so enthusiastically for a long time—except when he received a delivery leaflet in the corridor a few hours ago—he was more at a loss than his mood. The hand holding the piping bag clenched subconsciously, and squeezed out a The blob of yellow icing is like covering a blank painting with an overly sweet and heavy color, and the sun is overflowing around the edges.

His knee was touched by someone, and he suddenly came back to his senses, and agreed with some stumbles: "Well, okay, let's put it here..."

The satisfied smiling face of the other party came into view through the mask, which made his tense nerves relax a little, and he secretly hypnotized himself in his heart, thinking that this is the same as accepting an entrustment to satisfy other people's wishes, so there is no need to be too nervous.

But it's been too long since he was treated normally, equally, and kindly - like a dream.

The later development was also like a dream. The number of people watching his biscuit painting did not decrease but increased. Some people even came to him with their own biscuits and asked him to help him draw one—he would not refuse, and the biscuits on the table did not take long. The embryos piled up into a hill, and the staff couldn't stand it and helped him out, so the number of biscuits continued to increase.

After all, it is directly related to his job. After mastering the skill of squeezing icing sugar, it is still easy for him to draw some simple small patterns. I thought, if he is famous enough to hold a signing event in the future, will the scene be similar to now.

Probably not the same, there will be more people at the signing, more people who know him and come for him, not meeting by chance or asking for him, but really surrounding him with love.

In fact, he seldom thinks about his future. He is always a bit shabby about his future. While daydreaming about drawing comics for the rest of his life, and conveying something to others with imaginative stories, he feels that the future is just like that. Maybe he always has to take over from his parents, maybe he always has to be responsible to his family -- after all, he doesn't live for himself, and he doesn't expect much.

However, today, he may be a little flustered by the long-lost warm atmosphere, and he actually began to fantasize about some distant scenes, about grand and gorgeous unrealistic dreams, about whether someone will love him in the dream, about when the dream will come true. Will Zhenxiao stay by his side one day?

I will—he raised his head, looked at Zhenxiao who was concentrating on helping him arrange the biscuits neatly, and thought silently.

From the very beginning, he had such an intuition that there was a deep karma in their fate, and it could not be clarified in a day or two—even though it was only a few months since the first meeting, he always felt that they had known each other for many years .

"Why are you in a daze?" Zhen Xiao asked softly, noticing his gaze.

Xia Jingzhe was startled, and hurriedly lowered her head as if she had been caught peeping, and said "nothing" over and over again, and then turned into "should I go?"

"Well, I still have to go to the place where the mask is painted to make a card——Let's go?"

He nodded, put down the almost empty piping bag, pushed the last piece of biscuit to the side of the pillow, and stretched his waist when he was done: "Let's go, I don't know which one is whose, let's dry it here first Let's go, tell the staff... what are you laughing at?"

"It's nothing," Zhenxiao held a biscuit in his hand, his eyes were focused as if he wanted to see through the three generations of the biscuit's ancestors, and the smile on the corner of his mouth was also meaningful. Show him the other side, and pretend to be serious while commenting, "Mr. Xia, I find that you are quite innocent sometimes..."

For example, he would write his name on the biscuit and draw a small love heart, which would look like a semi-finished product in a group of fancy and colorful finished products, but it could be seen at a glance.

Xia Jingzhe pursed his lips and remained silent for a few seconds, as if he was thinking about how to quibble—thought to no avail, he finally snatched the biscuit from his hand, then stood up, lowered his eyes to meet his gaze, and ate it bite by bite This piece of criminal evidence.

"It's not for you," he mumbled harshly while chewing on the biscuit, "I'll eat it myself, idiot."

After all, without giving the other party a chance to refute, he casually picked up a few rings that were placed on the corner of the table when making biscuits, stuffed them into his pockets, turned around and left - after taking off and wearing them too many times a day, he Too lazy to repeat it.

"...I mean, I can draw things of this level," Zhen Xiao murmured to coax him, picking out the first few pieces that belonged to them from the crowd of biscuits, and putting them into a paper bag Li, "Don't bother you to do it yourself, Teacher Xia."

——It would be nice if the dream ended here.

What happened in the next few minutes was like a mime, the bustling voices around were all paused, and only the inhumane picture continued to play, overlapping with the imaginary cruel reality——The man who walked to the door At that time, the staff caught up and gave him a dessert to try as a thank you, but for some reason they tripped and grabbed the mask on his face in a panic.

The bow tied with string was not too strong, and it was torn apart as expected, and the fragile camouflage was suddenly torn apart, like a sweet dream coming to an abrupt end.

What kind of crappy plot is this.Xia Jingzhe looked at the mask dropped by his feet, thinking in a daze.

Then the huge despair rose from the bottom of his heart, grabbing him wet and cold with nowhere to escape, making him almost out of breath, the knuckles of the hand holding the door frame turned white, messy thoughts rolled in his mind, Half of it is "someone will recognize it", "is it going to be hated again", "then it was a waste of time", and the other half is "forget it, it's okay, I'm used to it already".