After becoming the personal model of the boss

This time there was a distance between the two of them, He Xiancheng suddenly laughed.

Zhou Shangan was baffled by his smile, "You..." Before he could utter the curse words, he saw He Xiancheng pointing at him with half-raised eyebrows and a playful expression on his face.

Zhou Shang'an's wet eyes blinked, but he still followed his index finger to look over.

Seeing something black on the butt of his trousers, Zhou Shang'an was taken aback for a moment, and reached out to wipe it, but his hand was also black.

He didn't know when a large piece of black paint was dyed behind him.

Zhou Shang'an looked at the palm of his hand, and his whole figure seemed to be paused.

It wasn't until He Xiancheng frowned impatiently that he heard him whisper: "It's...dirty..."

He Xiancheng glanced at his palm, then bent down to see the expression on his face.

I saw a face that was so stubborn that it was higher than the sky just now, and I don't know when it has collapsed.

As if aware of his gaze, Zhou Shangan looked over with moist eyes, but the posture of his hands remained unchanged, "It's so fucking dirty..." His voice even trembled a little.

He Xiancheng laughed, and suddenly thought of something, and asked in a low voice with some doubts: "Are you obsessed with cleanliness?"

Zhou Shang'an pursed her lips.

Suddenly he felt a tight wrist, and it was He Xiancheng who held his hand, and Zhou Shangan was led forward before he could react.

He raised his head in a daze, and saw a door so small that he hadn't noticed it before, probably a small cubicle.

Zhou Shang'an's mind was empty for a moment, all kinds of shredded corpses and hidden corpses in the hut rushed into his mind inexplicably, and he even forgot the dirty things on his hands.

Zhou Shangan remembered what he had been harassed before, and hurriedly patted He Xiancheng's hand, struggled, and cursed: "You poor painter, shameless, let me go..."

However, He Xiancheng was much stronger than him, no matter how hard he struggled, he couldn't get rid of it, like a punch on cotton.

He Xiancheng didn't say anything, but dragged him forward with a gloomy expression.

Seeing this, Zhou Shang'an panicked even more, and his eye sockets were slightly wet with fright.

Since he was a child, he was afraid of falling when he was held in his hand, and afraid of melting if he held it in his mouth. This was the first time he met such a person.

When Zhou Shang'an wanted to shout, his hands suddenly went cold.

He lowered his head, it was an iron bucket half filled with water.

He Xiancheng pressed his hand into the water, and said calmly, "Wash it clean."

After saying this, He Xiancheng let go of his hand, turned around and went out.

Zhou Shang'an was stunned for a moment, shaking his fingertips, the black on his hand had melted into the water at a speed visible to the naked eye, and when he looked again, he found that the water was slightly milky white and had a special fragrance.

Zhou Shang'an looked up and looked around. It was just a simple cubicle. There was a cabinet on the left wall with the door open. There were a lot of paints of various colors in it. Put it here.

Zhou Shang'an blinked, lowered his head, and began to carefully rub the paint on his hands. After washing the paint on his hands thoroughly, he stood up.

He raised both hands to his eyes, looked at the palms that had become white again, and suddenly his shoulders relaxed, he let out a breath, and a satisfied smile appeared on his face.

Looking at the back of the buttocks again, Zhou Shang'an pursed her mouth, but fortunately, the jeans are thicker.

He shook the water droplets off his hands and came out of the compartment.

He Xiancheng was sitting on the sofa, leaning back lazily, with his head down, his legs stretched leisurely on a chair, with a magazine on his lap.

He Xiancheng didn't look up at him, but flipped through the book in his hand casually with a calm expression.

Zhou Shang'an suddenly remembered what he had done just now, and his face felt slightly hot with embarrassment.

He approached a little closer, with a slightly awkward tone, and said, "That...just now, I'm sorry."

He Xiancheng didn't lift his head, and didn't know if he heard him talking.

Zhou Shangan frowned, walked closer, reached out and patted the book on He Xiancheng's lap, "Hello."

Only then did He Xiancheng raise his head to look at him.

He Xiancheng didn't know when he wore a pair of gold-rimmed glasses, which made his pupils darker and deeper, and the eyes he looked at Zhou Shangan became colder.

Zhou Shangan glanced away, and whispered: "Just now... I just thought you were playing hooligans... Human traffickers and the like..."

He Xiancheng's appearance with glasses is much more refined than before.

It's just that his face was still cold, He Xiancheng stared at him without saying a word, suddenly turned sideways, stretched out his hand, and tapped a piece of paper on the wall behind him with his fingers.

Zhou Shangan looked over and found that the piece of paper was exactly the same as the advertising paper in his hand before. If there was any difference, it was a little bigger.

On the paper was a promotional advertisement for selling electrical appliances. In the upper right corner, a thick black circle was drawn. The circle was also absent from the advertisement paper in Zhou Shang'an's hand.

There was a line of words circled inside, and Zhou Shangan took a closer look: Only nude models are recruited.

Just under the words "Only recruit high-quality models, [-] per hour".

Zhou Shang'an was stunned for a moment, then glanced at the line of words again, a strong sense of embarrassment came over him, and he could only feel his cheeks burning hot.

So, is he ignoring it?

"I..." Zhou Shang'an read it a few more times, remembering that he hadn't seen those lines on the advertising paper before?

At this time, He Xiancheng's deep voice sounded: "See? Only nude models are recruited, if you like to do it or not, if you don't do it, get out."

Zhou Shang'an was taken aback by He Xiancheng's sudden tone.

He looked down at He Xiancheng's face, and found that He Xiancheng's face had sunk for some time, and his dark pupils were looking at him.

Zhou Shang An felt relieved, and he choked in his throat when he wanted to say something.

The air seemed to freeze.

The two were in a stalemate for a while, but He Xiancheng's expression was still gloomy and cold.

"I..." I didn't see it again, a few words were stuck in my throat, as if I was suffocated by He Xiancheng's eyes, but also seemed to be angered by those few lines.

Zhou Shang'an clasped the corner of his clothes with his fingertips, his lips were pursed tightly, and the embarrassment in his eyes gradually turned into anger.He stood up straight, and suddenly shouted at He Xiancheng: "If you don't do it, don't do it!" He turned around and strode towards the door.

He Xiancheng lowered his eyes and closed the book. Zhou Shangan's footsteps were getting farther and farther away, and he was almost at the door. He Xiancheng seemed to hear a vague murmur, "Poor painter, who cares about you..."

The door was shut with a bang.