Chapter 12 Chapter 12 Stinky dog, you are fascinated by him...
Cheers erupted from the TV again.
"The ball goes in! The ball goes in!"
The attention of the men in the living room was briefly diverted.
It turned out that these three people got together to watch a football game, and once a goal was scored, the TV and the people would celebrate enthusiastically at the same time.
Zhang Hejing smiled and poured a glass of wine: "See, I said this ball was going to go in. You lose, drink it."
"Okay, I admit it."
Cheng Yiliao put the wine in the glass, turned around and continued to look at He Songfeng.
"Why are you awake? Want to watch the game together?"
Cheng Yiliao waved to the person, "Come and sit down."
His fingers were not slender, but thick and strong, with calluses on the knuckles and fingertips from years of exercise.
The hand is suspended in the air, with the ring finger and little finger retracted, and the middle finger as if holding something. Deliberately use only the index finger and middle finger to stand upright, point it at the air, and then move it slowly back and forth.
Such a scene met He Songfeng's gaze.
At this time, cheers for the goal were heard again on TV. The sound was loud and noisy, and the sound was like the rumbling of a racing engine.
Zhang Hejing interjected, subtly helping He Songfeng out: "Cheng Yiliao, the team you support just lost the game, and you said you wanted to win the championship this year. I'm afraid it'll be hard for them to even qualify."
Cheng Yiliao ignored him and stared at He Songfeng with burning eyes.
He Songfeng walked around the group of men and approached the TV. He bent down, his collarbone-length hair cascading softly, lazily resting on his round, delicate shoulders. He had a jellyfish-like hairstyle. He had cut his own hair before the college entrance exam to save money, but he regretted it as soon as he finished trimming the outer edges, and so his hair grew into a jellyfish-like style.
He Songfeng carefully touched the bottom edge of the TV.
The light from the TV screen became an X-ray, completely illuminating He Songfeng. The tiny undulations and depressions on his body could be seen clearly through his clothes.
He dug his fingertips into the depression at the bottom edge of the TV, pressed his knuckles, and pushed deeper.
Click.
The TV picture suddenly turned from color to black.
After doing all this, He Songfeng breathed a sigh of satisfaction, took out his bloodshot fingertips, and returned the same way.
The living room was quiet, without a sound at all.
He Songfeng's hanging hand waved for just a few times before it was pinched by an extremely hot big hand. He Songfeng had not taken two steps before he was pulled back by a fierce force.
He Songfeng staggered and was broken in half.
He bent down, his hands resting on the glass coffee table in front of him, his brows furrowed. His frail body seemed to have been nearly broken by Cheng Yi's shackles.
"So domineering. But... what do you think we should do with the wine we've opened but haven't finished?"
Zhou Biao's lackey took advantage of the opportunity to come over and push a newly opened bottle of red wine to He Songfeng's hand.
Taking this opportunity, he placed his hand on the back of He Songfeng's hand without leaving any trace, but like a mouse, he quickly ran away in a few seconds.
Cheng Yiliao picked up his wine glass, pinched He Songfeng's chin with his left hand, and poured the wine into his mouth with his right hand.
"I just lost the bet, please help me."
The cold edge of the wine glass was stuffed into He Songfeng's mouth, causing pain in his upper and lower gums. Without waiting for He Songfeng to speak, the red wine soaked in ice chips was poured into his throat.
The wine mixed with ice cubes forced its way into the body, causing extreme cold and stimulation.
In addition, He Songfeng had just woken up and was feeling dizzy, and he had never touched alcohol before.
In less than a second, the strong smell of alcohol immediately became stronger from the throat and rushed back into the nasal cavity disgustingly.
He didn't want to retch in front of others, so he could only close his mouth, frown, grit his teeth and suffer silently.
The pungent alcohol was no longer just gas or liquid, but a solid rusty iron rod that had solidified into his nose and throat, pounding back and forth violently, not stopping until it had made a bloody hole in his throat.
He Songfeng put his hands together to cover his nose and mouth, his brows furrowed tighter and tighter.
He also changed from standing with his hands on the table at the beginning to squatting, with half of his body leaning on Cheng Yiliao's outstretched leg, and only then did he barely avoid falling to the ground.
He Songfeng's face turned red in a short time, his eyes lost focus, and he felt dizzy and sore.
Cheng Yiliao bent down, moved closer to He Songfeng, flicked his fingers, and leaned in closer, jokingly saying, "It's just loading some fruit wine. Is it necessary to make it so pathetic? Who are you trying to seduce? Me?"
He Songfeng took a breath from his lungs and exhaled heavily.
Before Cheng Yiliao could inflict another round of humiliation, he propped up the numb flesh and bones in his body and shook off Cheng Yiliao's hand.
"Give me the bottle."
"oh--?"
Cheng Yiliao brought over the bottle of wine.
He Songfeng took the bottle.
In an instant, the bottle turned upside down.
The wine bottle turned into the sword of Damocles, hanging high above Cheng Yiliao's head.
The bright red and sweet wine rushed out with a splash, catching Cheng Yiliao off guard. His body seemed to be hit by the wine on the forehead, and he shrunk down. The red liquid slowly dripped down his cheek like blood.
He Songfeng could have smashed the bottle directly on Cheng Yiliao's face.
But he thought about it, what if he got hurt and was blackmailed? He had no money.
He Songfeng was very cautious.
Cheng Yiliao's hair was soaked and stuck to his head in clumps.
The wine splashed onto Cheng Yiliao's face, almost sticking to his eyelids and making it impossible for him to open his eyes. The collar of his clothes had completely lost its original color, and only patches of purple and red could be seen.
The angles of his facial features dropped with the dripping water droplets, pressing down further and further, and his entire body seemed to sink into the ground in a gloomy manner.
He Songfeng supported himself on the table and slowly stood up.
He cast his gaze towards Cheng Yiliao, and only then did he realize that the wine tasted really good, hundreds of times better than the taste in his throat just now.
The wine was still dripping down.
He Songfeng held the wine bottle in his hand and pointed at Cheng Yiliao:
"Pfft, drowned dog."
In He Songfeng's joke, Cheng Yiliao was just shaking his head to get rid of the water, which really pleased He Songfeng.
But before He Songfeng could be happy for a while, Cheng Yiliao, like a water ghost, reached up with one hand and grabbed the wine bottle that He Songfeng pointed out.
The bottle was snatched away with a brutal force.
He Songfeng's collar was also grabbed by the wet water ghost.
The bright red wine in the other person's hand stained He Songfeng's collar like blood, as if someone's throat was cut, and the blood from the aorta sprayed out, making both of them covered in filth.
The next second, He Songfeng was thrown to the ground, and the other party threw him onto the sofa without any mercy.
The back of his head was hit and he felt dizzy, but before he could react, he was pinned to death on the sofa.
Then the whole person pressed down on him like a mountain.
He Songfeng sank deep into the sofa. He was already having difficulty breathing, and water droplets kept falling into his mouth and nose from above his head.
All he could hear was the man above his head laughing angrily, and muttering humiliating words like "your mother" and "his mother" to him, right next to his nose.
"I don't have a mother." He Songfeng replied calmly.
The person who was chattering noisily above his head suddenly became quiet.
In the young master's rich and wonderful life experience, this was the first time someone responded like this.
With a bang, the wine bottle broke into two pieces.
The sharp broken edge pointed directly at He Songfeng's face, intending to cut through the false calmness on He Songfeng's face.
“…………”
He Songfeng is like a dead fish on a chopping board with a knife stuck in it. It is unnecessary to use that knife to stab him.
He still had that expression without much emotion. If it weren't for the water dripping from Cheng Yiliao's hair hitting his eyes, he wouldn't even lower his eyebrows.
He would stare at Cheng Yiliao blankly with his dead fish eyes until the other party gave up on tormenting him, this dead fish.
Cheng Yiliao's anger grew bigger and bigger. What he hated most was He Songfeng's indifference to him.
"Are you really not afraid?"
Cheng Yiliao rubbed He Songfeng's face and threatened him viciously: "Aren't you afraid of having your face cut?"
Cheng Yiliao frowned, and the excess liquid in the wine bottle slowly dripped between He Songfeng's eyebrows, forming a shallow pool in the grooves between He Songfeng's eye sockets and nose bridge.
The alcohol had turned He Songfeng's lower eyelids red, and if you looked closely at his cheeks, you could see red marks from sunburn during the day. His entire face was flushed, with a blush almost like an orgasm running across his nose, face, and cheeks.
The water marks on his face looked like tear marks, but due to the stickiness of the wine, after looking at it for a long time, they seemed more like——
For a moment, Cheng Yiliao's little bit of compassion was aroused.
While feeling sorry for He Songfeng, he found an excuse to press on He Songfeng and rub against him.
It was not until he saw He Songfeng frowning that he let go with satisfaction, and when he saw He Songfeng breathe a sigh of relief, he subconsciously lowered his eyebrows and looked pleased.
Once the eyelids droop, the mole hidden inside the eyelids will be exposed without reservation.
The two symmetrical black moles trembled faintly along with the eyeballs, looking extremely fragile.
Cheng Yiliao was very close to them, so Zhou Biao and Zhang Hejing could not see the two symmetrical black moles, and the hidden secret was enjoyed by Cheng Yiliao alone.
Cheng Yiliao not only felt itchy in his hands, but everywhere he went itchy.
If... if He Songfeng could raise his eyes and look at her with indifference, but still do something blatant and obscene under coercion.
Then——
That would be great.
He Songfeng opened his eyes.
It fulfilled Cheng Yiliao's fantasy.
The unbearable itch was immediately fueled by He Songfeng's cold and indifferent gaze, which made it burn even more vigorously.
That's right, I glanced at him with a look as if he were sweeping away garbage.
But that's the only way she looked at him.
There is no resistance or rejection.
Cheng Yiliao took away the broken wine bottle, pinched He Songfeng's chin, and suddenly leaned down and rushed forward.
He Songfeng was shocked, his eyeballs suddenly widened twice as wide, and he stared at Cheng Yiliao intently.
"You thought I wanted to kiss you again?"
Cheng Yiliao burst into laughter halfway through the charge.
He grabbed He Songfeng's eyelids and pulled them down, forcing his eyes to close and the mole to be pulled out. Then he pressed his thumb on the eyeball and rubbed the mole fiercely.
When He Songfeng opened his eyes, they were red and his eyelids were half-drooped with fatigue.
He Songfeng half-closed his eyes, his hands hanging weakly on the ground, rubbing the edge of the sofa cushion. His arms were so thin and straight that people wanted to touch them.
His palms were clenched together in endurance because of the suffering in his eyes, his finger bones protruded high against the thin white skin, and the sharp bones made his wrists tremble.
Cheng Yiliao looked at He Songfeng, who was almost dying, and felt refreshed. He was satisfied and let He Songfeng live.
After the fun, it’s the sage moment.
Cheng Yiliao shook his collar and humiliated arrogantly:
"I don't know how many people have slept with her. She's so dirty."
He subconsciously glanced at Zhou Biao, scaring him so much that he shuddered and quickly sat up straight. His head looked like it had been chopped off by a guillotine, almost to the point of being separated from his head.
He Songfeng's thin hands weakly grasped the edge of the sofa, his chest heaving slightly as he exhaled straightly.
"He really knows how to save his reputation."
He Songfeng sat up shakily, and the hand that was pinching the edge of the sofa turned red and swollen from excessive force.
His thin wrist was trembling, giving people the impression that He Songfeng was weak and about to be broken by the wind in his name.
"You don't mind when I flirt with you, you don't mind when I rub against you, but if I really let you..."
He Songfeng hissed, raised his head with his fragile neck, and faced Cheng Yiliao naturally.
"Stinky dog."
He Songfeng lifted his chin lightly with his palm, and uttered his final question calmly and slowly from his lips and teeth:
"Will you refuse?"
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