Seduce a shy loyal dog

Chapter 13

Why scold me?

For some days, Zhou Lang left early and returned late, so he seldom met Song Yirong face to face. The occasional meeting was only a short time to say hello.

But Song Yirong somehow felt that Zhou Lang was hiding from him.

After dinner, he went out for a walk with the cat in his arms. On the way, he met a girl with a high ponytail. She walked up to Song Yirong very familiarly, and said with a smile, "Your cat is so cute."

Song Yirong nodded, a little coldly, "Well, thank you."

Jian Ran secretly glanced at him, secretly surprised, although she could tell the other party's gender at a glance, but the slightly long hair hung down her shoulders, and the exposed side face was fair and delicate, which still gave people a kind of indistinguishable beauty.

But the other party didn't seem to want to talk, and his face was cold, which made Jian Ran afraid to say anything.

But after a while, Song Yirong sent the cat to her, his tone was still calm, but it sounded much softer, and said, "Do you want to pet it?"

"You can touch it." Song Yirong said.

Jian Ran raised her head in surprise, her eyes widened, then she cautiously reached out her hand and touched the kitten's head. The fur was soft and the hand felt particularly good. She was attracted almost immediately.

This kitten completely captivated her.

Jian Ran reluctantly withdrew her hand and said, "It's really cute, can I ask what its name is?"

"Lulu." Song Yirong said.

"Hahalulu," Jian Ran yelled several times with joy, "Lululu."

"Hey, do you live near here too?" Jian Ran asked, "I don't think I've seen you before."

When Jian Ran spoke, Song Yirong realized that she was the girl who talked to Zhou Lang that day, her voice was clear and crisp, and she was really recognizable.

"Renting a house," Song Yirong didn't hide it, "Wang Zhiyuan is my landlord."

"Oh," Jian Ran said, "I see, you live next door to Zhou Lang."

Song Yirong paused, "Yes."

Jian Ran became more and more happy, "It's so close, we can play together when we have time!"

Song Yirong politely refused: "I'm sorry, I'm a homebody."

Jian Ran shrugged her nose, and discussed: "Well, then can I go and see the kitty, I promise not to make a fuss!"

The little girl has a heart.

But Song Yirong couldn't say any strong words of rejection to her, and nodded helplessly: "Okay."

"Thank you!" Jian Ran jumped up, turned her head and walked back, "I'm going home first, I'll see you another day!"

Lulu blinked her eyes, curled up on the sofa, her soft tail swung around, brushing Song Yirong's calf from time to time, causing a slight itch.

Although the temperature has risen a lot recently, the living room is still shady and cool. Song Yirong is leaning on the sofa and watching the computer, and a half-eaten canned fruit is placed on the coffee table at one side.

Everything is quiet and cozy.

If it weren't for the sudden ringtone of the mobile phone.

The name "Xin Manxiang" danced on the screen.Like a strange spell, Song Yirong's expression immediately froze.

"Hi," came a soft voice from the opposite side.

Song Yirong's back was stiff, and he just "hmm".

"Yi Rong," Xin Manxiang said in a soft voice, "Your brother has a birthday in a few days, come back?"

Song Yirong was silent on the phone side, Lulu licked the back of his hand, he seemed to be unconscious and motionless.

Xin Manxiang continued: "Your father and I are getting older, and you two will still have to help each other in the future. Don't be unhappy."

Song Yirong said, "Busy."

Xin Manxiang said: "My relatives are here, and if you are not here, it's not good for people to watch."

Xin Manxiang wanted to persuade her, but a hoarse male voice interrupted her: "What are you talking about, I, Song Zhaoxing, don't have this son!"

Xin Manxiang covered the phone with the palm of her hand, "Yirong, don't listen to what your father said, go back, okay?"

The roles of Xin Manxiang and Song Zhaoxing were too distinct, one played the red face and the other played the bad face, one moment put him on the fire and roast him, and the other moment he fell into the ice cellar, trembling all over.

"Let me, gay, go back," Song Yirong said word by word, "Aren't you worried about losing your face?"

"Or do you want me to be imprisoned again?"

The memory that I deliberately didn't want to repeat, after all, I couldn't escape being brought up again and again by others. Song Yirong's headache was splitting, the veins on his forehead were bulging, and thin sweat was already oozing out.

Xin Manxiang's fingers were numb, and when she came back to her senses, the phone had dropped to the ground. She picked it up with trembling hands, but there were countless cracks on the screen, which seemed irreparable.

Song Yirong couldn't remember when they discovered her sexual orientation, but the only thing she remembered was.

That day, their disgusted expressions and overwhelming anger towards him almost turned into a haze, engulfing him completely.

The gift he sent was slammed to the ground, and the younger brother who had relied on him, with red eyes, said to him: "You are disgusting."

"Go away."

So he was sent to the compound with high walls and dense iron gates.

Countless days slipped away from his hands, and they kept saying, "It's all for your own good."

But what is the result?

Song Yirong looked at himself in the mirror, his face was pale and bloodless, his eyelids were drooping, and his thin collarbone was deeply sunken, like a grave he dug himself, trying to bury in it in vain.

no result.

He hasn't found anything yet.

The few cans of beer just taken out of the refrigerator were still steaming, Song Yirong knocked on the stone table, making a loud clatter.

The night is quiet, drinking, burning throat and heart.

There is a moon today, but it is not very bright, most of it is covered by dark gray clouds, Song Yirong looked up and his neck became sore.

Drunken, he turned on the phone screen, Song Yirong looked at the poplar tree for a while, raised his hand and typed a sentence: Can you see the moon?

There was no reply, Song Yirong knocked again: Idiot.

With the last can of cold beer in his stomach, Song Yirong couldn't sit still, with flowers flying in front of his eyes, leaning his elbows on the stone table, and resting his forehead with the back of his hand.

The exposed part of the wrist was so white that it was almost transparent, the knuckles were constantly exerting force, the knuckles were raised, blue blood vessels could be seen, but nothing was caught.

The mobile phone beeped twice on the desktop, poking my ears especially in the silent night.

Song Yirong rubbed his forehead with his index finger. When he clicked on the message, his finger was still trembling slightly.

But the moment he saw the news, he couldn't help laughing again.

Zhou Lang: I was taking a shower just now.

Zhou Lang: Why scold me? 【Little bear is wronged】

The smile in Song Yirong's eyes was still there, and he replied: Fool, where can I find the emoji?

Zhou Lang: Family group, with children.

Song Yirong was very drunk, stood up staggeringly, and walked out while typing: Mu, open the window.

Sure enough, he was drunk and typed all the wrong words, but he didn't notice it and continued typing.

Song Yirong: Don't make Wo wait too long.

Zhou Lang was stunned for a moment when he saw the news, water droplets were still falling from his naked upper body, and the waistband of his trousers was soaked by water droplets.

Song Yirong's news came suddenly, within a short time, he only had time to put on his pajama pants, and hurriedly replied.

He walked to the window as he said, and pushed open the glass window of Nan/Feng. Before he could react, a thin man reeking of alcohol suddenly leaned on the window sill, and then stretched out his hands to cup his face.

His fingers were icy and cold, long and slender like onion roots, softly touching the side of his face, Zhou Lang's breathing was stagnant for a moment, and he forgot to dodge.

The smell of alcohol was very close, with a warm breath, Song Yirong tapped the bridge of his nose with his index finger and said, "Are you still asleep?"

Xu Shi was really drunk, his speech became more and more sticky, and that haunting energy surged up, much like that cat named Lulu.

The Adam's apple rolled, and the moment he raised his head, Zhou Lang met Song Yirong's red eyes, and the long eyelashes were still moist.

Zhou Lang's heart softened, he felt that he was watching a desperate sunset, that round of red sun that was about to sink into the dry spring water slowly disappeared before his eyes until the sky and the earth were dimmed.

Zhou Lang replied in Song Yirong's palm: "Song Yirong, are you drunk?"

Song Yirong pinched his nose and spit out each word, "I'm not, drunk."

Song Yirong's hands were really cold, and his lips were too pale. Zhou Lang was afraid that he would feel uncomfortable, so he wanted to send him back, but in the next second, Song Yirong climbed onto the window sill with hands and feet.

Zhou Lang hurriedly put his hand on his shoulder, "Be careful not to fall."

Song Yirong struggled twice, but couldn't get away, so he kicked his legs and jumped up with great effort. Zhou Lang's outstretched hand couldn't stop it, so Song Yirong's forehead hit the window frame with a bang, and a red line appeared in the blink of an eye. mark.

Song Yirong's eyes slowly opened wide, water was faintly visible in his eye sockets, he didn't move, bent down on the window sill, and slowly hugged the window frame, as if that was his warmest home.

The hair on the side of the ear fell down, covering most of his face, and Zhou Lang couldn't see the expression in his eyes.

He had no choice but to lower his voice and ask, "Song Yirong, what's wrong with you?"

Song Yirong said in a muffled voice, "I feel dizzy."

Zhou Lang looked at the top of his hair and said in a low voice, "Aren't you going home?"

Song Yirong whimpered slightly, his voice trembling: "It's not my home..."

After finally bringing him in, Zhou Lang put him on the bed, covered him with a soft quilt, and then turned around to close the window.

As soon as the window was closed, Fang Wenxiu's voice came from outside the bedroom door after it clicked: "Lang, are you still asleep? What's the noise in your room? Who are you talking to?"

Zhou Lang said: "No one, I just fell asleep."

Fang Wenxiu "oh" for a while: "Well, then you should go to bed early, don't study too late."

Zhou Lang said: "Okay."

As soon as Fang Wenxiu's footsteps walked away, a soft "OK" sound followed from the bed.

Zhou Lang walked back to the bed, squatted down, looked at Song Yirong's face, and asked, "Are you sleepy?"

Song Yirong's eyes were still swollen, he blinked twice, and said slowly: "Sleepy, but can't sleep."

Zhou Lang probed his forehead, then asked softly, "Do you still have a headache?"

Song Yirong thought hard and said, "It hurts."

Zhou Lang said, "I'll rub your temples, and you can sleep, okay?"

Song Yirong, who was drunk, was extraordinarily well-behaved, and Zhou Lang's voice couldn't help being coaxed.

Song Yirong responded softly: "Yes."

But he didn't know what sad thing he thought of again. When the sound of "um" came out, tears rolled down the corner of his eyes.

No matter how she cried, she cried so quietly.

Zhou Lang gently wiped away his tears with his thumb, not daring to use too much strength for fear of rubbing his face red.

Song Yirong was tired after tossing around for too long, his eyes slowly closed, as if he was going to sleep, Zhou Lang rubbed his temples for him, looked at his appearance, and was about to let go, unexpectedly, Song Yirong opened his eyes again, the eyeballs Looking at him for a moment.

Zhou Lang asked: "You—"

Song Yirong stretched out his hand from under the quilt, and hugged his waist, his wet cheek pressed against the skin of Zhou Lang's waist and abdomen.

Zhou Lang's body was almost tense, and blush instantly climbed up to the base of his ears, neither moving nor not moving, so he could only spread his hands helplessly and said, "Song Yirong?"

Song Yirong touched the muscles on his back and asked in a nasal voice, "Zhou Lang, how many abdominal muscles do you have?"

Zhou Lang answered honestly, "I haven't counted them carefully."

Song Yirong raised his face, sniffed, and said, "Let me count for you."

He tapped back and forth with his cool fingertips, counting in his mouth: "One, two, three...eight, nine..."

Zhou Lang grabbed his fidgeting hand, his throat had rolled several times, his voice was too hoarse, and he said, "Song Yirong, you lost count, how could there be so many."

"I'm not good at math." Song Yirong pinched his tight waist, stepped back, and said, "Why do you feel so hard to the touch?"

Zhou Lang sighed, instead of arguing with him, he just said, "My fault."

Noisy and fussing, Song Yirong was really sleepy, and fell asleep hugging the quilt at some point, Zhou Lang finally had time to pull the short sleeves on the chair and put them on.

He covered Song Yirong with a quilt, but he went to the window to blow the cool breeze in the middle of the night.