After I dressed as a fake young master from a wealthy family, I became popular [entertainment circle

When spring really came, Chu Ye fell in love that was just right for the season.

The camera shows a rose that blooms like a flame, from its full petals to the stems below. With the adjustment of the focal length, the center of the picture shows Chu Ye who is lying sideways behind the glass vase—the pair of particularly beautiful eyes , the same flower complements each other.

"Are you in love?" A friend's voice came from behind.

Chu Ye looked up at him, but didn't answer.

In the small studio, there are only two people sitting at the moment, and the friend is holding a drawing board to adjust the color, speaking in a normal tone: "You used to like to paint sunsets, flowers, snow, etc., all of which are full of beauty that you put your best effort into. It was a momentary thing; now it is fine, the picture is full of vitality, last time I went to participate in the competition, the judges could not believe that it was your work."

Chu Ye didn't approve or deny it, and just smiled lightly: "Isn't it good?"

"It's not bad," he simply typed the line draft on the drawing paper, and his friend's coloring method was quite wild. He painted absent-mindedly while thinking and answered, "It's just that the more the style changes, the more it shows that this relationship is for you. How big is the impact."

His blue eyes looked at Chu Ye: "All I can say is, don't put all of yourself on a relationship, it's scary."

Chu Ye absently fiddled with the petals of the rose in front of him, smiled absently, and did not speak.

"Is that the young master who bought your work for 20 euros at the auction?" My friend stood up, walked to the window, picked up the cigarette in his hand and shook it at Chu Ye, "Is it okay?"

Chu Ye nodded: "Yes."

"Do you Orientals especially care about emotional loyalty? Do you think he can do it?"

Chu Ye was somewhat dissatisfied with the increasingly oppressive atmosphere: "Should we convict him of something that hasn't happened yet?"

"No," my friend turned back, puffed out his cigarette, and sighed softly, "Your basic idea is wrong."

Chu Ye was taken aback for a moment: "?"

"The prodigal son's loyalty is all a lie in the drama," my friend hated iron and steel, "you can't have such high expectations from now on, and hypnosis has to tell yourself."

After this conversation ended, Chu Ye was unhappy for almost the whole day.

Lu Haochu noticed his depression, and rubbed his face with a smile: "Who made my baby unhappy?"

Chu Ye looked up at him. He wanted to say something, but he didn't know how to say it.

"Do you love me?" - no, too hypocritical.

"Are you going to have an affair?"—not to mention, how could a couple in love say that, as if they were suffering from persecution paranoia.

So he could only shake his head and choose to remain silent.

Lu Haochu shook his head with a smile, picked up a piece of iris...leaves from the side of the road, put it in his hand and shook it at him: "Voucher."

Chu Ye looked up at him, not knowing why.

He touched Chu Ye's side face with warm and strong hands, bent down, and brought his lips closer, and the distance between the two quickly narrowed to an ambiguous distance.

Lu Haochu's voice was full of bewilderment: "The spring is just right today, baby, you owe me a smiling face that matches the weather."

"There's no way to settle accounts like this." Chu Ye raised his head and gave him a look, but smiled unconsciously.

Their foreheads were lightly pressed together, their tall noses touched from time to time, and their warm breaths intertwined. Chu Ye felt the hands around his waist getting tighter and tighter. In the next moment, he didn't know who was more active, even Stepping out of the content of the script itself, when Hang Yang realized it, Hang Xiutu's thin and warm lips had already printed on his own.

He stretched out his arms to wrap around Hang Xiutu's neck, and deepened the kiss tremblingly and passionately.

He passionately kissed the person in front of him in the most romantic spring, as if he had ever had love.

When the kiss was over, Chu Ye was weakly held in Lu Haochu's arms, and the rapid breathing of the two could be heard in his ears, and it was almost impossible to tell who knew who.

Suddenly, Chu Ye whispered in his lover's ear: "Have you ever kissed anyone like this?"

He felt Lu Haochu's embrace suddenly froze, and the man quickly let go of him, his handsome brows frowned: "Why do you ask this?"

Chu Ye could hardly bear his suddenly cold eyes, lowered his head in panic, and his voice became smaller and smaller: "I'm just, I'm just, sorry..."

The coldness in Lu Haochu's eyes was fleeting, and his attitude quickly softened: "Baby, we are all adults, it's normal to have a bit of the past, and it won't affect our future, right?"

Chu Ye didn't nod or shake his head, he just raised the corners of his mouth stiffly under the man's earnest gaze, showing a smile that was uglier than crying.

"Cut!" Gu Xi's voice sounded, he stood up and clapped his hands, "It's done! Let's go, get off work!"

The staff began to rush forward to pack their things, and the happy discussion of Shuanghang Pi could be faintly heard behind:

"Hey, hey, the scumbag played by Mr. Hang is really scumbag!"

"Do you know the outline of the script? The worse ones are yet to come!"

"Tsk tsk tsk, I just want to see Mr. Xiaohang walking alone on the street with tears in his eyes, dragging his thin body, that feeling of being on the verge of falling!"

"Shhhhhhh, beauty abusers are hanged!"

"I knew I wasn't the only pervert hehehe..."

Immediately there was a wretched low laugh, and the atmosphere inside and outside the set was full of joy.

But Hang Yang still stood there in a daze, looking down at his hands, a little dazed.

In the play, the look in Hang Xiutu's eyes was just right, half of it was "restrained coldness" and the other half was "exaggerated love", but it all disappeared at the moment of "stuck", and he hurried to hold Hang Yang's hand: "Xiao Yang .”

But it was avoided by Hang Yang.

He didn't do it on purpose, but every loving look in Lu Haochu's eyes will make Hang Yang worry, and the alienation and coldness in Lu Haochu's eyes will hurt him unconsciously. Hold his throat, like calm water slowly covering his mouth and nose, making Hang Yang almost unable to breathe...

"Xiao Yang!" Hang Xiutu's voice broke through the water and pulled Hang Yang out forcibly.

Hang Yang froze for a moment, looked at his clenched wrist, and there was a familiar touch from the top of his head, and Hang Xiutu's voice fell: "Go, go back to eat."

——This is the elder brother's voice, which has nothing to do with love, but it is the most stable and beautiful.

I must seal up all inappropriate feelings, and I can't reveal them even if I die.

Thinking so, Hang Yang secretly made up his mind.

On the way back to the car, Hang Yang fell into a deep sleep. He leaned on Hang Xiutu's shoulder, and rarely understood in his dreams: "Scum...boy..."

Hang Xiutu didn't know whether to laugh or cry, but he still hugged him gently so that the person in his arms could sleep more comfortably.

While gently stroking Hang Yang's soft hair, he asked in a low voice: "Who is the scumbag?"

Hang Yang rubbed against Hang Xiutu's shoulder socket, and after a while he said vaguely: "My brother..."

Hang Xiutu: "..."

If Hang Xiuyuan saw his bastard second brother's deflated appearance, he would be very happy-the culprit was lying in his arms, but he didn't dare to beat him, and he didn't dare to scold him, so he had to coax him slowly: "What the hell did he do?" ?”

Who knew that Hang Yang's eyes suddenly fell down, sobbing silently in his dream, repeating several fragmented words "my brother", "bad", "hate" and "scum"...

I have to say that Hang Yang really has a unique advantage as an actor. He is born with a strong emotional appeal. Seeing him crying silently in his dream, I am afraid that everyone will feel distressed, so he can't help pointing at Hang Xiutu's nose." What did you bastard do?!"

Hang Xiutu couldn't argue, so he could only hold Hang Yang tightly and pat him on the back until Hang Yang fell asleep completely.

His thumb lightly wiped the tear stains on Hang Yang's face, tapped lightly on the tip of his nose, and then retracted silently.

The car was very quiet. Tang Yi and Chen Xu were sleeping together in the back row. The driver was driving in the front. The small seat suddenly looked like a hidden place in a busy city. Hang Xiutu paused slightly. At the time, I had quietly kissed Hang Yang's forehead, then went all the way down, kissed his small and straight nose bridge, and finally landed gently on the closed eyelids.

This kiss is obviously extremely restrained and extremely secretive, but it is a hundred times more exciting than the fierce meeting of lips and teeth and the fusion of saliva in the play.

Hang Xiutu felt the beating speed in his chest, and he could hardly help worrying that his heartbeat was too loud to wake up Hang Yang, but he couldn't help looking forward to it almost crazily: if he happened to wake up at this moment what will happen...

In restraint and anxiety, Aegis is incomparably beautiful.

Hang Xiutu hugged Hang Yang almost in fear, fearing that he would use too much force and hug him too loosely.

His lips still fell on Hang Yang's closed eyes, fine, soft and pious.

——I love you so much, but only today's wind knows, what a pity.

The filming of "Monte Fontaine" is still in full swing. The sweetness at the beginning slowly fades with the plot, and the pain and struggle emerge on the paper.

Chu Ye was painting expressionlessly in the studio, the dark dark green and blue-black were entangled with claws and claws, the whole painting was almost suffocating, but he didn't seem to feel it, he was still covering it layer by layer with paint. .

"What are you doing!" Lu Haochu strode into the room, slapped the easel heavily, panting heavily, "I just had a few more words with a friend, you—"

His eyes were quickly attracted by Chu Ye's painting, and he was startled: "What are you painting?!"

Chu Ye didn't care about the undried paint, so he tore off the painting and put it in front of Lu Haochu: "For you."

"Send it to me?" Lu Haochu slapped it away, pointing to the painting that fell on the ground, "How did you become like this, I didn't expect you to be so sensitive, even hysterical—"

"I'm sensitive?" Chu Ye tilted his head, he seemed to be answering or talking to himself, "Yes, I'm sensitive...but I'm an artist, so I should be sensitive, right?"

"When you loved me, you said it was delicate, you loved my vigorous vitality, you loved my capture of every detail; now you say I am unreasonable, you say I am hysterical..."

"I love you, Chu Ye!" Lu Haochu interrupted him, feeling very anxious.

"You love me and then tease people and invite people to dances... In my opinion, you are really happy when you are walking among the flowers."

Chu Ye was exhausted: "If this is love, then I am really tired."

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