Chapter 48 Chapter 48 Cheating, Money, and Feelings
He Songfeng raised his hand and covered his nose and lips with his fingers, but not completely. His pink fingers were just below the tip of his nose, seemingly blocking them but actually drawing attention entirely to the tip of his upturned nose.
He held his breath and blinked nervously. Amidst the blaring electronic music, his voice was gentle and clear, like a startled sparrow in the trees, as he cautiously inquired:
“Who is your angel?”
Samuel smiled, and his wide-open olive green eyes narrowed into a half crescent, exactly the same curve as He Songfeng's neatly manicured fingers.
His lips shaped as if to expel air, and he leaned forward again in an overly ambiguous manner.
“U——”
A long breath came out from the gap between Samuel's lips, spraying hotly on the back of He Songfeng's hand, burning the skin red.
If this breath continued a little longer, it would have turned into a teasing whistle, but Samuel stopped it in time, holding on to the youthful innocence that was unique to him and He Songfeng.
The wild electronic music in the nightclub suddenly changed to sensual Spanish dance music. The pronunciation of the lyrics carried the unique sexiness of French, whispering the passionate and implicit love beneath the song's meaning. Every beating drum beat was like a private love word told on a midsummer night.
The sweaty and dense drum beats thumped by, giving the men and women on the dance floor a chance to catch their breath.
Their eyes met, love filled the air.
The passion flowed out naturally, neither greasy nor oily. Just two pairs of bright and clear eyes looking at each other, and their lips subconsciously wanted to stick together.
Fortunately, He Songfeng covered it with his hands in advance.
Samuel kissed the back of He Songfeng's hand.
He Songfeng immediately behaved like a frightened sparrow, taking two small steps back, but because of the crowded crowd, he could only escape to a distance of half an arm's length from Samuel.
Even under the colorful lights of the nightclub, one could see that He Songfeng's face was flushed, and from the tips of his ears to his collarbone, it looked as if he was covered with a layer of paint.
"Please don't do this." He Songfeng requested.
Samuel pointed at the drumbeats that suddenly became louder, then pointed at his ears and shook his head, indicating that he couldn't hear clearly.
He Songfeng had to take another step forward under the urging of the noisy drumbeats, took Samuel's hand, and wrote three letters on the palm of his hand.
He Songfeng's fingertips were warm, but they were no match for Samuel's scorching palm. When he first touched it, his wrist sank and shook, and he tapped it twice more before getting used to the temperature.
Samuel did not interrupt He Songfeng's actions. He used his pure eyes, which were as bright and dazzling as colorful gems, to admire He Songfeng seriously.
He Songfeng's eyes are always wet with endless melancholy, innocent and pure. So Samuel intends to explore the lonely soul behind the mist through He Songfeng's wet and hazy black glass marbles.
He Songfeng felt Samuel's gaze, and he chose to use his soft and delicate fingertips to touch and stroke Samuel's rough palm.
PLZ
What are you requesting?
Samuel was fascinated by He Songfeng's eyes, his body like a tree hanging on the edge of a cliff, pulled by gravity and constantly leaning forward.
He Songfeng shook his head, squeezed Samuel's hand again, and wrote the three letters "PLZ" heavily, while shaking his head again and again, his black hair scraping against his face like a wedding curtain.
He silently pleaded with Samuel not to behave in a festive manner.
Samuel raised his hand and helped He Songfeng push the hair stuck to his cheeks behind his ears.
When the hand reached out, He Songfeng held his breath, and his bird-like head suddenly buried itself in his arms, not daring to look directly at it.
"My angel..."
Samuel called affectionately, his rough fingertips brushing across He Songfeng's earlobe and pinching it lightly.
"Tell me, why are you here?"
He Songfeng spoke a long sentence in a soft voice, and Samuel pointed to his ears, indicating that he still couldn't hear clearly.
He Songfeng took a deep breath, and his awkward throat could not utter any unruly roar. In the end, he chose to hold Samuel's hand and lead him out of the nightclub.
Europeans and Americans have huge skeletons, and He Songfeng could only partially grasp Samuel's palm with one hand.
It would be more accurate to say that Samuel followed closely rather than that He Songfeng was leading the other person, always careful not to let his hand fall out of He Songfeng's package, and would squeeze in on his own every once in a while.
He Songfeng put his schoolbag in front of him, took out a thick notebook from it, and spread it in front of Samuel.
"My classmates who are doing group work didn't answer the phone. They have to give a presentation tomorrow, and I haven't received the materials for that part yet, so I had to come here to look for them."
"Did you find it?" Samuel asked worriedly.
He Songfeng shook his head. He seemed to have thought of something, and then he picked up the pen and wrote a few words on the paper. As he wrote, he said, "I'm going to finish it myself."
Samuel lowered his head to look at He Songfeng's profession, and pried into He Songfeng's privacy without leaving any trace.
"Are you in the art department? What's your major?"
He Songfeng put away his pen, closed his book, and answered casually, "Oil painting major."
When He Songfeng raised his head, his cheek bumped into Samuel's prying face, and both of them blushed.
He Songfeng turned his head away awkwardly, looking at the sky, the ground, and the laser lights floating out of the nightclub window.
He hugged the notebook with both hands and asked nervously in a low voice: "...Are you curious about me?"
Samuel lowered his head, folded his shoulders, turned his neck, and lightly kissed He Songfeng's ear.
He Songfeng heard the other party reply playfully: "Yep."
He Songfeng immediately raised his hand to wipe away the moisture left on the other person's ear. A trace of hurt flashed in Samuel's eyes. He complained directly:
"Hey! Angel! I'm watching right here! You're hurting my feelings!"
He Songfeng changed his previous avoidance and shyness, raised the notebook with both hands and gently tapped Samuel's lips.
"You're being rude by kissing me without my permission."
It was more of a shyness than a scolding, and her voice was still so small, so small that Samuel almost had to lower his head to listen for He Songfeng.
Samuel was happy to bow his head for He Songfeng. He looked at He Songfeng as if he was really standing in the art exhibition area, carefully admiring a small handful of angel sculptures from the East through a piece of polished glass.
It is not marble, oil painting, or jade, but white porcelain, a fragile porcelain with a unique oriental charm.
The sculpture has a strong sense of flattery, piecing itself together piece by piece to create the appearance of an angel that Westerners like.
Such a shy He Songfeng, such a fragile white porcelain angel.
For Samuel, special goes without saying.
"Sorry, My angel..."
Samuel bowed his head in apology, taking out his car keys at the same time, "So where are you going next? Home? Do you mind if I give you a ride?"
Samuel was quietly investigating He Songfeng's privacy. He already knew which school He Songfeng went to and what major he studied. Now all he needed to know was He Songfeng's address.
He put the notebook back into his schoolbag and at the same time moved the schoolbag back behind him, his hands tightly clasped on the straps in front of him. He answered naturally:
"My boss has assigned me the night shift. Could you please take me back to the Chinese restaurant?"
"Okay."
Samuel didn't refuse, but raised his eyebrows to signal He Songfeng to get in the car with him.
Samuel's car is a typical supercar, with an ultra-low chassis and wheels embedded in the body. The overall outline of the car presents an extremely streamlined geometric shape. The glossy pure black paint absorbs the laser light emitted from the nightclub, and it emits a gorgeous and colorful halo.
The engine started, the wheels roared, and a low roar like a monster was emitted, as if the whole city was trembling with fear and shock.
This shock was not comparable to the Bentley that He Songfeng had been dreaming of.
Inserting and turning the supercar key not only starts the car, but also He Songfeng's most vulgar yearning for a life of luxury and extravagance.
But He Songfeng remained tense and reserved. He even pretended to be extremely uncomfortable, with his eyelids drooping, revealing two fragile black moles, and trembling uneasily in the gray night.
Samuel's car stopped. Samuel put his left hand on the steering wheel and raised his right hand in the air. Across the narrow distance of the center console, he affectionately stroked He Songfeng's exposed mole.
He Songfeng turned his head and caught Samuel's little movement.
Samuel grinned, making a self-deprecating "oops" sound. He restrained his movements, resting his hands restlessly on the steering wheel, his fingertips tapping nervously.
Fifteen minutes later, the car stopped on the avenue not far from the Chinese restaurant. Because the commercial street was too narrow and too crowded, and at He Songfeng's strong request, the car ultimately did not drive into the door of the Chinese restaurant.
But He Songfeng did not open the door and get out of the car immediately. He turned towards the door and quickly sat back.
Samuel thought for half a second, immediately unbuckled his seat belt, got out of the car, walked around to He Songfeng's door, opened the door considerately, bent down, and extended his hand to greet He Songfeng.
Samuel reflected on himself: "My fault, I'm not gentleman enough."
But He Songfeng was not worried about this. He shook his head, put his right hand on Samuel's wrist instead of his palm, and pressed down hard.
"I have nothing to give you as a thank you, but if you are interested in my eyes, I am willing to let you touch them."
He Songfeng recited the unskilled spoken language, his eyelids drooped meekly, revealing two completely symmetrical black moles on his eyelids, just like the signature on the bottom of a white porcelain sculpture, waiting for the confirmation touch of the owner who bought it.
"...I have nothing to offer you in exchange for your gratitude."
He Songfeng once again emphasized that this was an exchange, a thank you gift, not a flattery.
The entire arm that was resting on Samuel's wrist was trembling nervously, like a lamb that knew it had been targeted by a hunter. It was so weak that it could hardly stand up and could only curl up in the dangerous place and tremble uncomfortably.
As He Songfeng expected, Samuel rejected him.
"Nope, I hope this is your initiative to show goodwill to me, not an exchange."
He Songfeng was helped out of the passenger seat by Samuel, who also took care to cover He Songfeng's head with his left hand to prevent him from being hit on the head by the low frame of the sports car.
After doing all this, Samuel took his hand back and kept a suitable distance with He Songfeng.
"Goodbye, my angel."
He Songfeng also waved to Samuel, and after confirming that the other party had returned to the car, he turned and walked towards the Chinese restaurant.
The evening breeze in a foreign country carries a special and strange smell, which is both lonely and free. He Songfeng took two deep breaths to make sure that the sea salt fragrance on his body was blown away by the evening breeze on the street. Then, just before turning into the Chinese restaurant, he flashed into another fork in the road, and then ran towards the apartment without looking back.
Cheng Yiliao was waiting for him in the apartment. As soon as He Songfeng opened the door, he was greeted with a big hug.
"I've been thinking about you all day." Cheng Yiliao turned his head and kissed He Songfeng's neck.
He Songfeng said "hmm" and didn't answer again. His expression was dull and annoyed.
Cheng Yiliao's love has become a burden to He Songfeng, and he just wants to get rid of this childish man as soon as possible.
Cheng Yiliao let go of He Songfeng, took his hand, and sat on the sofa.
"Look what I prepared for you."
Cheng Yiliao made two clinking sounds in celebration and took out a square box from under the table. There was a complete Apple logo engraved on it.
"It's a computer! This way you don't have to go to the library to look up information, and you don't have to write every word when you're doing your reports. I've been so heartbroken watching you do your homework these days. Have your fingers got calluses?"
Cheng Yiliao pushed the gift box in front of He Songfeng. He knelt on the other side of the table and waited obediently for He Songfeng's praise.
He Songfeng glanced at the gift on the table and a decent smile appeared on his face, just a decent smile.
"Thank you."
He Songfeng waved at Cheng, motioning him to sit next to him.
Cheng Yiliao immediately sat over and stuck close to He Songfeng, while pinching He Songfeng's right hand and rubbing the hard lumps on his knuckles with heartache. That was where the calluses were written by He Songfeng.
He Songfeng pinched Cheng Yiliao's chin and gave him a kiss.
Cheng Yiliao immediately kissed back aggressively, and while pushing He Songfeng down on the sofa, he also grabbed He Songfeng's thin wrist in one hand, raised it above his head and controlled it tightly.
When the kiss reached a deep state, the breath of the two people almost mixed into one, one person exhaled, and then the other inhaled.
The oxygen content was getting lower and lower, and my head began to feel dizzy and dazzled due to lack of oxygen. My consciousness became groggy, and my body sank clumsily into the depths of the sofa.
He Songfeng turned around and saw the computer on the table.
They indulged each other's kiss deeper and deeper, and even raised their hands actively, interlocking their fingers, and let out deliberately sweet sounds between their breaths.
Cheng Yiliao was completely bewitched by He Songfeng. Every breath and every movement of He Songfeng made Cheng Yiliao lose his mind. He only cared about biting like a dog without any logic or pattern.
However, at the moment when He Songfeng's knee hit the collarbone, he opened his eyes wide and forcefully slapped Cheng Yiliao's face away.
Cheng Yiliao's face suddenly showed an expression of surprise, and his facial features were like five horses kicking and galloping in five directions.
"Why?"
He Songfeng pulled off his shirt that had been pulled up to his shoulders, pushed Cheng Yiliao away, and sat up tiredly, gripping the edge of the sofa.
"I haven't finished writing my group report yet."
He Songfeng explained softly as he picked up the schoolbag that had fallen on the ground and took out his notebook from it.
"You go to sleep first." He Songfeng began to drive people away.
Cheng Yiliao rubbed his red cheeks and clung to the situation like a dog-skin plaster: "I'll stay with you."
Seeing that he couldn't drive Cheng Yiliao away, He Songfeng took the initiative to kiss Cheng Yiliao's beaten cheek as an apology, and never mentioned the matter again.
He Songfeng didn't mean to reject Cheng Yiliao's invitation, it was because he really had to hand in his homework soon and he hadn't finished it.
GPA is He Songfeng's life, and he will never allow himself to leave any homework unfinished.
The small room of the apartment suddenly became quiet, with only the sound of He Songfeng writing and turning pages. Even his breathing was restrained into a small sound, for fear of disturbing little Einstein's thoughts.
In this rare silence, suddenly——
Cheng Yiliao pointed at the title of He Songfeng's report and asked doubtfully:
"Aren't you studying social science anthropology? Why are you writing an art department assignment?"
He Songfeng's hand holding the pen trembled, and after a pause in his breathing, he spoke calmly:
"Cultural anthropology, a branch of anthropology, focuses on human cultural phenomena. This is the topic I chose for my report."
Cheng Yiliao let out an elongated "Oh" and said nothing more.
He Songfeng felt the intense gaze on the face. The tip of his pen pressed against the book, leaving a small dark dot, and he couldn't write a single word.
He also turned his head and responded to Cheng Yiliao's gaze expressionlessly, trying to see Cheng Yiliao's true thoughts.
Do you believe it or not?
Do I need to tell a few more lies to cover up my lies?
He Songfeng wasn't sure.
Obviously, He Songfeng thought too much and thought Cheng Yiliao was too smart.
Cheng Yiliao had a nonchalant smile on his face.
After noticing that He Songfeng took the initiative to look at him, the smile on his face became more and more flamboyant, the kind of flamboyance that a peacock spreads its tail when it knows it is very handsome. He wanted to push his handsome face into He Songfeng's eyes and ask, "Am I handsome, brother?"
"Don't bother me."
He Songfeng muttered dissatisfiedly.
Cheng Yiliao quickly surrendered, "I won't say anything, I promise."
Seeing his innocent look, He Songfeng finally put his mind at ease.
From the moment he got off the plane, He Songfeng was full of lies. He only told one truth to everyone, and everything else was fake, even his personality and character were fake.
A man can be whatever kind of He Songfeng he wants.
It’s just because Cheng Yiliao is of no use, so He Songfeng only tells lies to him.
The time was filled up to 48 hours as He Songfeng was busy with his homework. During these two days, He Songfeng also took time out to work part-time at a Chinese restaurant for three hours. Samuel would show up in the restaurant on time without fail.
When He Songfeng came forward to order for him, Samuel would hold his chin with both hands, look up at He Songfeng at the table with admiration, and his emerald eyes watched He Songfeng's every move carefully and deeply.
He Songfeng would also use the order board to cover half of his face and secretly peek at Samuel. Once Samuel caught him peeking, his whole face would turn red in an instant and his hands would start to move busily.
The order plate can cover it, but it cannot cover the tips of the ears that are exposed because of the tied-up hair.
He Songfeng was as shy as a little goldfish swimming in the water. He was interested in the flowers, plants and trees on the shore, but he would immediately turn around and hide in the water at the slightest movement.
When he is not working in the Chinese restaurant, He Songfeng is busy with his homework, but he can finish it quickly with the help of a computer.
However, just ten hours before the deadline for the group assignment, three people suddenly appeared in He Songfeng's group.
The group was created on the day the group assignment was released, but He Songfeng joined the group forty-eight hours before the deadline.
"Don't you know? Those who don't get a team will be assigned to a group by the teaching assistant. You didn't understand, so how can you blame us for not telling you? But haven't you ever considered that there are three people in a group, and you don't know any of them? You're just too eccentric."
“…………”
"Forget it, forget it. From now on, we're friends. We'll do group assignments together. As for this time, we all thought someone told you, but it turned out... it was all a misunderstanding. He Songfeng, you're so smart, you can complete it on your own. We're all idiots. If we help you with the assignments these days, it might even slow down your progress."
"He Songfeng, do you know what 'group collaboration process score' is? If you tell the professor you wrote it alone, you won't get any collaboration points. You have to know that socializing is also a part of education abroad."
He Songfeng took a deep breath, and then another deep breath, clenching the corner of his clothes with his hands. He endured for a whole minute before swallowing the unwilling anger into his heart.
"…………good."
In the end, in order to get the score for the "group collaboration process", He Songfeng had to divide the part completed independently by one person evenly like spreading a pancake.
Although the core content was still in He Songfeng's hands, his report received the highest score in the whole session, and he personally performed the most outstandingly, He Songfeng still felt very uncomfortable.
I did swallow the anger, but it remained in my heart and I always felt resentful.
The group members took his high scores, took advantage of his glory, and then ignored him after class, not even saying thank you, as if this was what He Songfeng should do.
“Would that be too much?”
"What else? Someone saw him get into Samuel's car. You should know that a certain young lady in our class has been pursuing Samuel for half a semester, but Samuel has ignored her. The young lady hates He Songfeng to death now. How dare you show your kindness to He Songfeng at this time? I think you have had enough of life and want to experience the feeling of being isolated."
He Songfeng was even only separated from them by a table.
Because they are in the same group.
The words of flattery and slander were spoken without any concealment into He Songfeng's ears.
"Then aren't you afraid that Samuel will cause trouble for us?" the timid one asked fearfully.
"That's because Samuel is helpful. I don't believe he can climb up to Samuel's high branch."
He Songfeng tightened his grip on the pen.
He was not nervous about their conversation, but because he told Samuel that he majored in oil painting. If the young lady who was pursuing Samuel revealed all her information, he would definitely be charged with "deception".
He Songfeng's pen tip poked out a black dot again, and the black dot was tearing the paper quickly, expanding violently like a prairie fire, until his pen tip completely tore the entire paper, and then he suddenly woke up with a rapid breath like a drowning person floating to the surface.
We have to speed up, it would be too clumsy to continue playing pure love.
For seven consecutive days, He Songfeng did not appear in the Chinese restaurant.
Samuel finally couldn't help it and sent a text message to He Songfeng asking for information.
"Angel, what have you been doing lately?"
He Songfeng did not answer.
On the eighth day, He Songfeng appeared at the door of the Chinese restaurant, walked past but did not enter, but soon turned back.
He walked restlessly around the street, taking small steps back and forth aimlessly, like a wandering soul, with light steps and a floating soul.
Samuel finally couldn't bear it anymore, so he took a step forward, grabbed He Songfeng's wrist, and held it tightly in his palm.
He Songfeng turned his head and looked at Samuel with red eyes.
Looking at him, it was like looking at a super savior. I didn’t cry, but I was about to cry.
"Angel? What happened?"
He Songfeng still didn't answer.
Samuel simply and decisively grabbed He Songfeng, took him into the car, drove quickly into a deserted road, and parked on the side of the road.
Samuel did not urge He Songfeng, but considerately put the handkerchief on the ground.
He Songfeng took the handkerchief and pressed it under his eyes.
Emotions had been brewing all the way, and He Songfeng started crying, biting his lips and sobbing softly. Tears as big as beans slid down, silently wetting a corner of the handkerchief.
Samuel leaned over the center console of the car and looked at He Songfeng worriedly, carefully using his fingers to brush away the hair on He Songfeng's cheeks that was stuck to his tears.
He Songfeng cried much louder.
Samuel handed over a new handkerchief again, but this time, his palm was cupped in He Songfeng's hand. When the tears fell, they first dripped on the back of Samuel's hand.
The cold tears burned Samuel's fingertips like fire.
Samuel stayed by quietly, but He Songfeng was still crying.
But no matter how He Songfeng's tears went from dripping to surging, and no matter how the emotions on his face piled up again and again, he never reached the point of crying out loud. He always endured it, cautiously, and looked timid as if he was afraid of disturbing someone.
"What happened? Can you tell me?"
He Songfeng grabbed the finger Samuel offered him, clenched it tightly, and cried helplessly: "Samuel, where can I stay?"
A hint of joy flashed across Samuel's eyes, but he quickly hid it due to He Songfeng's tearful eyes.
"My parents passed away in an accident this year. I was originally going to return home, but the Chinese restaurant owner took me in and let me work part-time while studying, so I could barely support my study abroad life, but, but the owner..."
He Songfeng choked up and didn't finish the rest of his sentence.
Samuel asked anxiously:
"What's wrong?"
He Songfeng wanted to say something but stopped himself. His brows were tightly knitted and his tears were flowing more and more violently, but his throat seemed to be rusted and stiff, unable to breathe even a little. His whole face turned red and purple from holding it in.
"What happened?"
Samuel regretted it as soon as he asked, because He Songfeng's behavior was too shameful.
He should have guessed some clues. His face suddenly darkened, his olive-colored eyes half hidden by his eyelids, and his fierce look rushed into He Songfeng's sight without any restraint.
But all this was still just speculation. Finally, he heard the word from He Songfeng's mouth - raped.
A huge rusty nail completely cut into Samuel's speculation, tearing his reason into pieces.
raped
I have been subjected to violence in the past.
Samuel clenched his palms into fists, and the knuckles pressed together, making a trembling sound like the creaking of gears.
The flawless white porcelain angel in Samuel's eyes cracked into countless black cracks at this moment.
He Songfeng was crying quietly, still being cautious as if he was afraid of disturbing anyone.
Like a fish stranded on the shore, sitting there and sighing in vain.
It seemed that in the next second, Samuel's Angel would be shattered and die.
"I didn't let him succeed, but...but..."
He Songfeng suddenly threw himself into Samuel's arms.
Samuel was shocked, his hands hanging in the air on both sides of He Songfeng's body.
He Songfeng's crying was helpless and disorderly, and his tears penetrated through his skin into Samuel's nerves, controlling him like silk threads.
Unconsciously, Samuel had hugged He Songfeng tightly, like Michael's broad wings, embracing and compassionately accommodating this tainted and broken angel.
"Where can I go? What should I do?"
He Songfeng clenched his hands on Samuel's collar, wrinkling the Dior hand-embroidered lily of the valley flowers. The sea salt had long since dissolved into the wet and salty taste of tears in He Songfeng's soapy water.
"Samuel, help me, save me."
He Songfeng's lips were pressed against Samuel's cheek, and he whispered in a distraught voice. His tears also became Samuel's heartache for him.
A tear, shared on two faces, and sadness is also shared.
The noble white porcelain angel placed in the display cabinet sends down an irresistible oracle to the art collectors who are admiring the art through the glass.
Samuel wiped away He Songfeng's tears, followed He Songfeng's words, and answered firmly:
"I'll help you, I'll save you."
The sports car engine roared again, and it roared and ran wildly on the street like an unstoppable beast.
The scenery outside the window flashed by quickly, and the traces of history became fewer and fewer. Instead, neon lights climbed up the towering glass curtain walls, and the traffic merged into a golden galaxy.
The car turned and sped into a newly built residential block. Residential apartment buildings were lined up in rows, and every other street had a dedicated gym, laundry room and parking lot for residents to use.
It is clean and quiet here, with minimal commercialization, and shrubs and trees are arranged in an orderly manner in the corners of the residential area.
After getting off the bus, He Songfeng no longer saw the building's exterior walls that were so old that they were almost falling off. The lights were pure white and bright, no longer aging, yellowing, or gray and foggy.
Street lights stand tall on both sides of the sidewalk, guarding residents as they return home.
Samuel helped He Songfeng get out of the car. This time, taking advantage of He Songfeng's tears, he crossed the line and hugged He Songfeng's waist.
He was surprised that He Songfeng's waist was even thinner than what he saw through her clothes, so thin that he could pinch it with one hand.
He Songfeng can easily satisfy a man's desire for control and sexual desire.
He Songfeng couldn't count how many hands had pinched his waist.
In between his tears, he distracted himself with thoughts. He thought that his waist was not so thin originally, and it became thinner and thinner because of being pinched by these obscene men.
The two walked to an apartment building near the roadside, and Samuel introduced it with a smile:
"This is a property under my name. There happens to be a vacant room on the third floor. I'm glad to help you! My angel."
He Songfeng stopped, grabbed the corner of Samuel's clothes, lowered his head and was so nervous that even his mole trembled.
His throat was blocked and squeezed, and he managed to utter an embarrassing cry through tears: "I don't have any money."
Samuel lowered his head and suddenly stopped at the center of He Songfeng's eyebrows. He wanted to kiss him but quickly retracted his kiss. He blew out a light breath and gently kissed He Songfeng's forehead instead of his lips.
"My angel, this is a gift, thank you for allowing me to know you."
He Songfeng issued an approval order: "You can kiss me."
Samuel came close to He Songfeng, his clear emerald eyes looking at him passionately. He moved closer again and again, and was about to kiss him on the lips.
He Songfeng closed his eyes obediently.
But He Songfeng waited for a long time, but could only feel Samuel's breath, but not his kiss.
At this moment, he thought of something and nodded slightly.
A kiss came softly in the next moment, tasted the softness of the lips briefly, and then left quickly.
He Songfeng opened his eyes in confusion, as if what had just happened was not a kiss, but the beginning of a friendship between him and Samuel.
He Songfeng was still pure and clean, which made Samuel laugh embarrassedly.
Samuel's handsome face, like a favorite of God, was wrinkled at the corners of his eyes due to his laughter, and the joke rang out crisply in the intimate breath:
"Angel, I'm polite now~"
He Songfeng was stunned. His innocent face turned into one of bewilderment. In the end, he could only shyly lower his head into his chest. He gathered his strength in his fist and punched Samuel's chest hard, muttering sullenly:
"Mr. Samuel, please don't make fun of me."
Another please say it out.
Samuel clenched He Songfeng's fist, covered his chest with it, and cried out in pain.
He Songfeng quickly looked up, and her pretty face, without time to wipe away the tears, was filled with nervous worry.
Samuel watched with fascination.
Tata quietly tightened her hand on He Songfeng's waist, and used her palm and fingertips to feel the trembling of the internal organs under the skin through the thin shirt fabric.
Samuel's eyes were half-lidded, concealing the objectification in his sight and his satisfied collecting addiction.
He Songfeng is a rare white porcelain angel in the West, and he easily collected it.
He thought that even if he got tired of playing, he could still treat He Songfeng as an extremely valuable collection, showing him off and exchanging him for bargaining chips.
A simple, shy, yet exceptionally beautiful Asian boy is bound to be a valuable commodity in the business world where beauty and desire are paramount.
No one would refuse such a beautiful oriental angel.
The lonely and helpless angel in distress can only rely on him as a dodder.
Be obedient and follow instructions in everything.
Thinking of this, Samuel couldn't help but call out to He Songfeng affectionately again:
"My angel..."
He Songfeng did not respond to Samuel's call. He just raised his eyes and looked at Samuel calmly.
Samuel took the initiative to invite: "Let's go upstairs."
He Songfeng nodded, "Yeah."
The lights on the third floor came on, and two independent shadows walking together emerged from the glass window, with clear boundaries between them and each having their own ulterior motives.
One wants to take advantage of the other's power and influence, the other wants to take advantage of the other's beauty
Isn't that a good match?
Another block,
In the dim apartment.
Cheng Yiliao opened the door and entered after get off work as usual. He glanced at the time and confirmed that He Songfeng was working in the Chinese restaurant at that time.
So he did not choose to call He Songfeng, but chose to quietly tidy up the room, clean up, and wash the dirty clothes left by He Songfeng.
Although He Songfeng had no money after going abroad, he never had to do any housework. All of his daily life was taken care of by Cheng Yiliao, the eldest son. No matter how hard or poor the life was, Cheng Yiliao always found a way to run the family in an orderly manner.
At least it's complete.
Tonight was just like any other peaceful night, without any abnormality or changes.
After finishing all the housework, Cheng Yiliao started playing with his mobile phone, quietly waiting for He Songfeng to come home.
The numbers on the phone kept jumping, one hour, two hours, three hours...
Cheng Yiliao began to feel uneasy, and his legs began to shake unbearably.
Five hours...
Seven hours...
It was very, very late at night.
Cheng Yiliao called He Songfeng dozens of times, but all he got was that the call could not be connected.
Is it that he can’t get through, or has the other party blocked him?
Cheng Yiliao had no way of knowing.
But Cheng Yiliao already had a strong premonition. He didn't think He Songfeng would come back the next day. He had already begun to believe that He Songfeng would never come back this time.
He stood up and paced around the room like a headless fly.
Sit down and stand up immediately.
Lie down and sit on the ground again.
He tossed and turned, unable to calm down for a long time.
The intense uneasiness made his heart almost burst out of his chest.
Suffocation, fainting, shock, and death.
A strong warning of death was flowing through his blood vessels to his limbs and bones, and his body had begun to fall into unstoppable spasms and twitching.
In the panic of being about to die, Cheng Yiliao had to urgently look for ways to save himself in the room.
He took out the clothes he had just washed and before they had time to dry, he held them in his arms.
The clothes were mixed into a messy pile of mud and were wet.
Cheng Yiliao was also wet. He was sweating profusely, and his hair and clothes were all soaked with his sweat and smelled bad.
Cheng Yi's shackles and clothes were soaked together, and he sat on the ground, all wet.
He held her like this all night long, in a daze, just like he was holding He Songfeng.
A strong premonition told him that this would be the last hug between you and He Songfeng.
His tears mixed with the water on his clothes and flowed into the sewer.
After crying all night, his clothes were still wet. At this moment, he couldn't tell whether the wetness on He Songfeng's clothes was soapy water or Cheng Yiliao's tears.
The next morning, Cheng Yiliao, with a haggard and gloomy face, went to the school's anthropology classroom in a daze. He sat there from morning to night, watching the students in the classroom change one after another.
There is no He Songfeng, there is no He Songfeng at all.
He was still unwilling to give up, so he went to ask the professor, but the answer he got was far more heartbreaking than Cheng Yiliao had imagined.
[There is no such student in this major.]
Cheng Yiliao looked as if he had been struck by lightning, and his soul was already half hanging outside his body.
But there was no time for him to question or be surprised.
He hurried to the Chinese restaurant.
However, the boss told him that He Songfeng had resigned half a month ago and had not come to work here for a long time.
The last light of Cheng Yiliao's soul was completely destroyed by the heavy lies that came one after another. He was like a walking corpse, sitting in the corner of the Chinese restaurant for a long, long time, until it got dark and the restaurant closed.
He couldn't accept He Songfeng's malicious lies.
From the very beginning, from the moment you get off the plane.
He Songfeng started to lie to him.
This was He Songfeng's long-planned departure.
And their last tenderness was not because of love, but because he was given a computer.
Even at this moment, He Songfeng did not take the computer away, and it remained in the dim apartment building as a legacy.
He Songfeng's next boyfriend is far more valuable than this computer.
He Songfeng's "love" is always linked to value. If you have money, you have love.
Beneath that clean skin, there is complete rot and decay.
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