I'm the only straight man in the entire dormitory of international students

Randall was stunned for a second or two, realizing that his current behavior was quite indecent.

He was about to get up again.

Then he saw the thin, snow-colored legs, which could be called a perfect work of art, slightly separated.

There was a rumble in the dark sky.

Thunder sounded.

Lightning strikes, and the tea room with orange-yellow light suddenly lights up.

With a breath of effort, it goes dark.

The rain outside the house became heavier, drop by drop, like beans hitting a bluestone board.

Song Ziyan held his breath, and moved his hand from the table.

Ding.

There was a soft sound in the pouring rain.

The silver chopsticks Randall picked up fell.

In his eyes, there was only one finger with pinkish fingertips looking at him greenly.

ticked.

Someone knocked on the door.

Randall came back to his senses, got up hurriedly, and walked towards the door in a hurry.

After opening the door, a waiter stood outside, and asked respectfully, "Master Randall, what do you and the guests need?"

Randall was slightly stunned, and then he heard Song Ziyan whisper behind him.

"Please take a new pair of chopsticks, thank you."

The waiter replied: "Okay, just wait a moment."

Randall's hand holding the chopstick that fell to the ground tightened suddenly.

Junior brother, he...

"Brother, why are you still standing there?" Song Ziyan said in a nonchalant tone.

Randall was silent for a while, turned around, and said with a smile, "Here we are."

He pretended nothing happened and sat down.

But the chopsticks in my hand...

Randall raised his eyes, and met Song Ziyan's deep blue eyes full of autumn water.

He paused, unable to take it out for a moment.

Song Ziyan was really willing to go all out with his senior brother. He told himself that he could just learn from Uncle Yanqing.

Usually this time.

If it was him, what would Uncle Yanqing do to him?

So Song Ziyan asked softly, "Brother, where are the chopsticks you picked up?"

So, Randall had no choice but to put it on the table and said with a smile: "Here it is. I almost forgot..."

Song Ziyan blushed, glanced at the chopsticks, and asked him again: "Why did you pick it up for so long just now?"

Randall's smile froze.

Song Ziyan looked at him, his face was very red and his eyes were bright: "Did you... see something?"

For the first time, Randall couldn't bear Song Ziyan's gaze.

He looks away.

But I don't know how to answer.

At this time Song Ziyan spoke again, softly: "Brother, is it good-looking?"

Randall went into cardiac arrest.

"How do you like it?"

Boom, boom.

Heavy and fast heartbeat.

The waiter knocked on the door again, and Randall suspected that his voice would be unusual.

Song Ziyan said: "Please come in."

The waiter brought a new pair of sterilized chopsticks, walked away, and closed the door.

Randall held his hands, intending to change the subject, and smiled: "...Ziyan, let's eat."

Song Ziyan's face was still red, maybe he was too shy, and the corners of his eyes were red.

He glanced at Randall and said nothing.

Randall couldn't laugh anymore, and he also looked at him, planning to eat.

But in the next second, he looked at Song Ziyan again, his eyes lingering and lingering on the redness at the end of his eyes.

After a while, it fell to his fingers to unpack the new chopsticks in the dustproof paper package.

Fingertips and knuckles were pink.

Such as being nurtured by warmth, the nephrite jade that has passed the spirit.

His junior brother, up and down, everywhere is beautiful.

Never look again...

Randall loaded the meal, and Song Ziyan had already unpacked the package, and the two eyes collided inadvertently.

It's hard to avoid it anymore, Randall smiled naturally.

Song Ziyan held the new chopsticks, his long eyelashes trembled, and he moved his hand to the table.

Qing Ding Ding sound.

Randall stopped holding the food, and subconsciously looked at Song Ziyan.

Song Ziyan was ashamed and pitiful, his eyes were watery: "Brother, can you pick it up for me again?"

Randall was speechless, and any refusal would have seemed awkward at this point.

He couldn't help wondering what Ziyan was going to do.

No, what he was going to do was already obvious.

But why?

He is his senior brother.

Ziyan, when did you treat him again?

"Brother?"

Song Ziyan's voice interrupted Randall's thoughts.

Randall looked at him, but for a second, don't look away, and said with an extremely complicated mood: "Ziyan..."

"What's the matter?" Song Ziyan asked with a hot face.

He is so...

Randall sighed, he couldn't say the words of refusal.

He had no choice but to bend over to pick it up, at worst, just ignore it.

However, it backfired.

When he picked up a chopstick, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Song Ziyan's hand holding a celadon teacup under the table.

Randall paused for a moment, not knowing why, so he looked over.

Not knowing when, the younger brother's knees were also covered with a light pink streak. He didn't want to look at it, but wanted to know what Song Ziyan was going to do.

In the next second, the teacup tilted.

Randall's breath was stagnant, and he watched his junior brother slowly put the yogurt in the teacup.

Just like that, it fell on the delicate and tender thighs.

Boom.

It thundered again.

But this time there was no lightning, and the rain seemed to lighten up.

The thunder is not loud, it rings for a while, and then fades away.

This tea room is on the second floor, and someone is talking next door, the window is open, and someone is talking.

It is a pity that the roses in the yard fell a lot because of this rain.

What a pity, what a pity.

Randall shook his head slightly, looking in front of him.

Look at the stained snow.

Look at the brown walnut wood stool, silently sinking into a small pool, a small pool.

Randall looked back, picked up the chopsticks, straightened up, and took the pair of chopsticks out of the tea room.

Song Ziyan's face was burning with embarrassment, he hurriedly stood up, took out a few pieces of paper and wiped it clean.

Later, Randall came back, and it was the same as before, as if nothing happened.

This time Song Ziyan was really as if nothing had happened, only when Randall said something happened suddenly tonight.

With a pretty red face, he said, "No."

Randall looked at him.

He neither hides nor evades.

After a while, Randall smiled and said, "Okay." I thought, I only hope that this painting should not be a grand banquet...

He recalled old master Shen's reminder before he left, and after thinking about it now, it is clear that grandpa saw the purpose of his younger brother looking for him.

Then why don't you just say it directly, so that he can advance...

Forget it, it's useless to advance.

Randall suddenly had a headache and didn't know what to do.

The two of them finished their meal and went downstairs.

The rain hasn't stopped, but not too much.

Randall went with the umbrella, and Song Ziyan waited under the eaves. At this time, he was no longer shy, and only came out when he was unhappy.

He was blaming the system, saying that the system lied to him, and today was obviously not a small plot.

system:【……】

Randall's studio is only a few minutes away, by the river.

Before coming to the teahouse, he stayed in the studio, so he didn't drive here.

The two need to walk there.

Worry about anything, embarrassment worth mentioning.

Randall took two umbrellas, antique oil-paper umbrellas.

A handful of plums in ink, and peaches in color.

The one with peach blossoms is pink. When Randall saw this color, he suddenly thought of the color of Song Ziyan's fingertips and knees.

So I took it.

This is the one he handed over.

Song Ziyan didn't answer, and said unwillingly: "I don't want this..."

What he thought was that he was wearing women's clothes, and he looked like a girl, and he was holding an umbrella of this color.

He pointed to the ink-colored one: ".I want this."

Seeing his expression, Randall thought he was cute, and then secretly scolded himself for acting improperly.

How can one take an umbrella with that thought.

Song Ziyan opened his umbrella and did those two things. Although his senior brother didn't say anything, he felt very bad and deliberately walked a little ahead.

Do not walk side by side with senior brother.

He has been to Shige's studio and knows the way.

Randall didn't tell the truth, and walked behind him.

Take a shortcut and take the alley.

There are few people walking this alley on weekdays, and it is rainy tonight, and even more so.

In the long, deep alley, there are only two of them, brothers and sisters.

The drizzle is drizzling, quiet and comfortable.

Randall walked behind Song Ziyan, his eyes would inevitably touch him.

Xu Shi experienced those two incidents, but he didn't take a closer look, but he couldn't ignore the whiteness in the dark night.

And the apricot pleated skirt that swayed slightly as he walked.

-- Arrived at Randall's private studio, opened the door, and a scent of ink wafted in.

The two stood at the entrance, and Randall took a pair of new slippers from the cabinet to Song Ziyan, then took the oil-paper umbrella in his hand, went into the house first, and found an open place to spread it out to dry.

After changing his shoes, Song Ziyan let out a wow, and looked happily at each of Randall's paintings.

They are all Chinese paintings, including freehand brushwork and fine brushwork.

Song Ziyan couldn't stop praising.

Randall smiled, boiled the tea pot, and went to Song Ziyan, who was boasting and asking questions, to explain.

There are many paintings hanging on the wall, and there are many rolled scrolls, each of which is a masterpiece.

Suddenly, Song Ziyan saw Randall's painting case, as if he had been shocked, and looked elsewhere: "Brother, is there a painting on the second floor?"

This is a duplex building.

"The second floor is the bedroom and study room, plus a fitness room," Randall said, taking out a stack of half-used raw rice paper, "Ziyan, is three feet enough?"

Song Ziyan nodded, watching Randall cut the paper and pressed it with two paperweights.

Song Ziyan lowered his head and pinched his fingers. When Randall finished mixing the paint, he set off and dragged a long black sofa in front of the floor-to-ceiling window to the opposite side of the desk.

Randall realized at this time: "Sorry, Ziyan, brother forgot to ask whether you want Chinese painting or oil painting."

"It's okay," Song Ziyan sat on the sofa, blushing a little, "I can do it."

Chinese painting and oil painting are all the same to him.In the book, his ultimate goal is not to ask his brother to make a portrait of him.

Randall smiled comfortably: "Okay. Let's have a cup of tea first."

The boiling water has been boiled.

Randall carried the porcelain pot to the tea room separated by double-sided embroidered screens, drenched the cups, woke up the tea, and brewed it.

The movements are skillful and the posture is elegant.

Song Ziyan picked up the teacup, accidentally sipped too much, and opened his mouth so hot: "Ha, it's so hot." Randall hurried to pour warm water for him, but the kettle was empty, and only a few bottles of yogurt were found.

He froze for a moment, and without thinking about anything else, he opened a bottle and sent it.

Song Ziyan was taken aback when he saw it, his face flushed slightly, not knowing whether it was hot or ashamed.

Randall said calmly, "Ziyan, drink."

Song Ziyan then looked at it for a few seconds, then suddenly raised his head and asked blushingly, "Brother, do you like me to drink yogurt?"

Randall suddenly lost his expression.

He is a grown man, and with what Song Ziyan did before, of course he can understand what it means.

His face was so hot.

Unexpectedly, Ziyan...

He chose to walk away without answering.

Song Ziyan stopped wandering around, drinking yogurt silently with a warm face, and went to the bathroom after drinking.

Not long after, Randall heard the sound of water coming from the bathroom.

His eyelids twitched, wondering what Ziyan was doing inside. Two or three minutes later, he heard the sound of a hair dryer.

Randall breathed a sigh of relief.

When Song Ziyan came out, the wig had already been taken off, revealing his original short brown-red hair.

The clothes were still in the women's dress.

Less femininity, a little more... Randall thought for a while and came to a conclusion.

A little more tempting taste.

A boy in girl's clothes.

Realizing this, Randall stopped looking at Song Ziyan, fearing that he would not be able to look at it with pure appreciation at the moment.

Afraid that Song Ziyan would say something astonishing again.

When the tea was almost finished, Randall took out the cigarette case and asked him, "Ziyan, do you mind?"

Before painting, he used to smoke a cigarette.

Song Ziyan shook his head, stood up, and shyly sat next to Randall.

Let's start the storyline.

Randall stared at him, startled.

Song Ziyan's face was flushed, he also looked at him, and said obediently: "Brother, I will help you."

Randall paused, then said with a smile, "...Okay."

He held a cigarette between his lips and bowed his head.

Song Ziyan took the lighter, pressed it, and a cluster of flames ignited.

Randall subconsciously glanced at Song Ziyan with his hazel eyes.

He lowered his eyes again.

Song Ziyan didn't look at him, but seriously lit a cigarette for him, and a thick mist faded away, exuding a slightly bitter taste.

Randall took a puff and took off the cigarette with his long fingers.

Song Ziyan looked at the smoke, as if he didn't understand, and asked him: "Brother, many of you smoke, what does the smoke taste like?"

The author has something to say: Song Ziyan: Just learn more from Uncle Yanqing!

Bai Yanqing: "..."

Bai Yanqing: You used the wrong partner, thank you.

Alex (biting a handkerchief): Me too.

Kim Jong Hyuk (beating the bed): Hurry up and start school!

Fegelein (with suitcase): Traveling.pass by.pass by.pass by.Traveling.pass by.