I want to be your white moonlight

Midsummer is too hot, and the mood is more irritable than other times.

Lin Xiang was tired of scolding Huo Sirong, so she lay on the cool chair and ate iced watermelon.

The screen of the laptop lying flat on his lap was on, and he had nothing to do these two days. After flipping through literature forums, reposting bars, and Weibo, he enjoyed reading Huo Sirong's black material every day.

Don't say it, there really is.

But they are all irrelevant information, nothing more than trivial matters, such as family background, suspected fraudulent height and age, and so on.

After in-depth research and digging, Lin Xiang finally managed to sneak into Huo Sirong's black fan group.

It is a penguin group, there are not many people in the group, only a hundred or so.

Huo Sirong has always maintained a perfect image to the outside world. As a senior in the industry, his reputation has reached a certain level. Naturally, the traffic is not as good as the fashionable little fresh meat, but he is still a household name.

There are several works that can be handed out. He has been a movie king and film king. He has been in the industry for more than ten years without scandals. He loves his job and works hard.

Even wild black fans who take pleasure in being a keyboard warrior don't bother to black him out.

This is like, the same sunny weather, people may take advantage of the cool to go out for a walk in the clear sky, but when the sun is shining brightly and the sun is scorching, no one is willing to take the lead.

Those who run around the streets under the sun are purely brainless, and Huo Sirong's black fans were once ridiculed by the public as idiots.

As Huos Rong faded away, there were fewer people in the black fan group over time, and the activity was getting lower day by day, and now it was almost a dead group.

Lin Xiang rummaged through the group files, only some of Huo Srong's bare-faced photos were black photos, and there was nothing else.

This keyboard warrior can't do it.Lin Xiang frowned and sighed.

He pondered for a long time, built a small account and climbed onto Weibo, and spent about two hours carefully writing a long article "Huo Sirong pedals two boats".

He and Lin Yan used aliases, linked Huo Sirong and the entertainment circle's topics, circled the marketing account, and then shared Weibo to the black fan group.

Huo Sirong is back.

At that time, the lights were just on, and the stars were dim.

"Your father brought Lin Yan to America." Huo Sirong said, "Except Wen Yao and me, no one knows that Lin Yan is not you."

When Lin Xiang saw his face, she felt physically sick, and found an eye patch to cover her eyes, and dozed off with her pillow on the couch as if no one else was there.

"Dinner." Huo Sirong sighed silently in his heart, bent over and tried to hug him.

Lin Xiang pushed him away.

Huo Sirong hugged him empty-handed, and was pushed almost to the ground by Lin Xiang. He was used to saying the same thing, but Lin Xiang frantically touched his back, and Huo Sirong was a little annoyed for a while.

He looked at Lin Xiang, his face darkened and he said nothing.

Lin Xiang closed her eyes, and said with disgust, "Don't eat, get out."

In the silent room, finger bones rubbed against each other, and danger and secret pain were brewing in the air.

"Dinner." Huo Sirong repeated word for word.

"Don't eat, get out!" Lin Xiang's voice of refusal suddenly rose.

Huo Sirong stretched out his hand and pulled him up, bent slightly, lifted Lin Xiang onto his shoulders with both arms, and strode towards the dining room.

Fish porridge, a table of side dishes.

Lin Xiang didn't take out the blindfold, neither did Huo Sirong.

As soon as Lin Xiang saw Huo Sirong, she felt uncomfortable all over, and when she touched him, she clutched her stomach and couldn't bear it.Huo Sirong probably noticed something unusual, so he didn't force him to take off the blindfold.

He touched Lin Xiang's cold face, Lin Xiang suddenly turned around, opened his mouth and bit him hard.

The teeth were sunken and blood was coming out.

Without blinking, Huo Sirong took a spoonful of fish porridge and ate it into his mouth without swallowing it.

He pinched Lin Xiang's chin with his free hand, leaned over and slowly pressed against the bridge of his nose, moving his hot and moist lips.

Lin Xiang shuddered like a seam in a clamshell, loosening his clenched teeth.

Huo Sirong took the opportunity to support the back of Lin Xiang's head, forcing him to face up, and leaned over to put the fish porridge into his mouth.

Under the dual effects of gravity and throat discomfort, Lin Xiang was forced to swallow the porridge into his stomach.

Before Lin Xiang had an attack, Huo Sirong covered his mouth with lightning speed, and ordered in a deep voice: "Don't spit."

Lin Xiang sobbed for a long time, unable to speak, and the circles of his eyes turned red instantly.

Huo Sirong took off his blindfold, and said slowly: "You vomited these two days, and you vomited and then refused to eat, can your body take it?"

That's because you don't know that I eat it, only bitterness.Lin Xiang stared at him with wide eyes, the overwhelming convulsions and vomiting made him breathless.

"What have you done in the past two years?" Huo Sirong asked knowingly, did you experience unimaginable pain?

Lin Xiang looked away disdainfully, but under Huo Sirong's coercion and lure, she finally didn't spit it out.

Every meal, two people eat is not the taste.

Huo Sirong is not idle. After his retirement, he has more things to do than before. Most of them focus on business, and socializing at noon and evening is common.When I was so busy that my feet didn't touch the ground, I didn't see anyone for two or three days.

Later when Lin Xiang came back, Huo Sirong invited a special nutritionist to come back to supervise his meals in person, and turned down a lot of business cooperation.

According to Wen Yao's words, two hundred million was lost.

Huo Sirong didn't take it seriously, Wen Yao could only touch his forehead and sigh: "Sir, what you say is that you want beautiful women and not Jiangshan. You've entered the drama."

Huo Sirong gave Wen Yao a disdainful look, and Wen Yao smiled awkwardly but politely back.

Lin Xiang drank the porridge with a spoon, while Huo Sirong went to the balcony to answer the phone.

Wen Yao gloated and said, "Sir, here's a Weibo for you."

Wen Yao sent him a screenshot of Lin Xiang's Weibo post. Looking at the whole article, Mr. Huo was simply obscene, shameless, shameless, playing with two brothers at the same time, comparable to the contemporary "Han Chengdi".

Lin Xiang's original blog had been dealt with in time by the public relations, and it disappeared without causing much splash.

Wen Yao laughed: "Lin Er laughed at you for not having the ability to be Emperor Han Cheng, and played Er Zhao like others, hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha—"

Amidst Wen Yao's inhumane laughter, Huo Sirong's face turned black, and he sighed with a headache: "You son of a bitch."

Wen Yao could probably hear the disappointment in his tone, the laughter faded away, and after a long time, he and Huo Sirong sighed together.

"What did you say he wants? How can he forgive me?" Huo Sirong finally uttered the question that he had held back for a long time in the silent night.

"Have you apologized to him?" Wen Yao asked back.

"No." Huo Sirong opened his mouth, a little frustrated: "He wants me to disappear now."

"You should apologize to him. Two years ago, Lin Yan plotted against you and forced Lin Er to give him a blood transfusion. No matter what you say about this matter, you did it unkindly." Wen Yao told the truth: "This matter Now, anyone who looks at it will feel that you have a hole in your head."

As usual, Huo Sirong would definitely be furious.At this moment, I probably agree with Wen Yao's statement, and listen to his analysis quietly.

"After all, Lin Er is the real only son of Lin Qishan. Even if you send Lin Yan to Dingbao, it will only be a matter of time before Lin Qishan finds out."

Wen Yao said softly: "While there is still time, let's improve your favorability."

Huo Sirong was silent and deep in thought. After a long time, he pinched his fingers between his brows, and said in a hoarse voice, wearily: "Recover Lin Er's Weibo, don't need to publicize him, just let him go."

Wen Yao was shocked: "Then the character design that you have painstakingly worked on for the past ten years has all collapsed!"

It's not just a matter of falling apart, it's already a well-known secret that Huo Sirong took over the Huo family.

Huo Sirong's image, on the basis of being a senior actor, has an extra layer of Huo Shi.

Once the "perfection" represented by Huo Sirong collapses, the external image of the Huo Group will definitely suffer.

Some things can affect the whole body.

"Sir, even if it is to please Lin Er, this decision is too hasty." Wen Yao advised.

"What's the use of me getting the Huo family? He has the backing of the Lin family, and Lin Xiang doesn't need anything. I have nothing to give him. If I delete even a Weibo, what is it?"

It's not that Huo Sirong didn't consider the consequences, but that there are some things that, when weighed on Lin Xiang's balance, are as light as a feather.

Wen Yao was silent for a while, took a breath, and said in a low voice: "Understood, restore his Weibo."

"Well, there is also about Huo's overseas accounts and fund transfers. You keep up with the progress in time."

Wen Yao replied at the other end: "Okay."

Huo Sirong hung up the phone, and when he turned around, Lin Xiang stood behind the balcony door, staring at him silently through a transparent glass window.

His hands and feet were shackled, and although the chain was not short, it still restricted his movement to a certain extent.

Huo Sirong thought to himself, I am like a flying bird locked in a cage, even the beautiful and golden wings are dimmed.

An inexplicable sadness welled up in his heart, Huo Sirong raised his hand and wiped his face.

He opened the balcony door, walked up to Lin Xiang, and patted his head: "I contacted Zhang Zihao for you. He asked if you are still interested in continuing to write. He can guide you."

Zhang Zihao, as a well-known senior in the literary circle, usually does not easily guide an unknown junior like Lin Xiang, it is very likely that Huo Sirong asked for it.

"Don't write." Lin Xiang refused without hesitation. He turned around, moved to the low cabinet step by step, picked up the blindfold and put it on as if no one was there.

He took two steps and swayed, groping with both hands, before hitting the armchair, Huo Sirong stepped forward in three steps at a time, and tore the stool away.

Lin Xiang fell on the bed, Huo Sirong asked, "When are you going to make trouble?"

"Let me go." Lin Xiang took off his shoes and climbed onto the bed, got into the bed familiarly, wrapped himself up, buried his head in the soft wings like a fluffy chicken.

"Unless you sign the remarriage agreement."

"impossible."

"Then there's nothing to talk about."

Lin Xiang smiled coldly: "You let me sign, yes, I will sign Lin Yan's name, how about it, are you satisfied? Is it a long-cherished wish that has been fulfilled for many years, you are welcome."

Huo Sirong showed displeasure: "Don't mention him."

"Why can't you mention it, Huo Sirong? Why didn't you tell me that the person you like is Lin Yan before you fuck me!" Lin Xiang said angrily.

If you don't start, there won't be so many entanglements and torture later.

Silence is like ripples on the surface of a lake, swaying in circles, boundless in all directions.

"I don't know." After a long time, Huo Sirong replied in a low voice.

Lin Xiang opened his mouth, his lips trembling.

Huo Sirong stepped forward and embraced him, thinking he was sincere and asked: "What should I do so that you can stay?"

"I don't want you anymore, Huo Sirong." Lin Xiang was unexpectedly calm: "I don't want you anymore."

Pain, discomfort, brain circles, black eyes.Huo Sirong hugged him tightly, trying to relieve the pain with an intimate hug.

"Then why...don't continue writing?" Huo Sirong changed the subject.

The body of the person in his arms stiffened instantly. Huo Sirong remembered how enthusiastic Lin Xiang was in writing back then, and the weight of a power of attorney for an article was almost the same as that of a marriage application.

The second hand ticks.

Just when Huo Sirong thought that Lin Xiang would not answer, he said, "I can't write anymore, I have no inspiration."

That basement destroyed what little love he had left, and drained his fountain of inspiration for words.

"Dreams are all for dreaming." Lin Xiang said indifferently.