I'm a black fan, you have to get used to me

That night, the two entered a state of cold war inexplicably.

Cen Xiao felt that Fu Zhun's 16-year-old boy's heart was really colorful.

Because he had eaten for an extra year, he couldn't figure out what Fu Zhun was thinking at all.

He was not angry as the victim, but the suspect was getting angry with him.

I'm really used to it.

With a snort, Cen Xiao was unwilling to explain to him.

The two remained in this state until the next night's self-study.

It was Wednesday, and during the evening self-study, except for Cen Xiao, everyone else in the class had to go to the art building to take professional classes.

Most people went directly from the dormitory to the studio, but Fu Zhun somehow came to the classroom.

He stood by the table and cleaned it up for a long time, not knowing what he was looking for.

Before leaving, Fu Zhun glanced at Cen Xiao who was quietly doing his homework, pursed his lips, and said nothing.

After hesitating for a few seconds, he finally took a few pieces of art homework and left through the back door.

After he left, Cen Xiao was freed from the inexplicable oppression and heaved a sigh of relief.

He was leaning against the wall, turning his pen carelessly while staring at the math problems.

He couldn't help thinking secretly about the source of Fu Zhun's anger.

Probably because of his gender, Cen Xiao didn't expect the possibility of Fu Zhun having a crush on him.

He could only quietly take out his mobile phone, wanting to turn to the omnipotent network for help.

However, before he could turn it on, the next moment, the window next to him was suddenly pulled open from the outside.

Cen Xiao was startled, subconsciously looked up——

Fu Zhun was standing by the window with a stinky face, looking unhappy.

"Is there anything else?" Cen Xiao glanced up at him, and threw the phone back on the table.

Asked by him, Fu Zhun didn't know what to say.

He pursed his lips, hesitated for a long time before uttering: "I didn't bring my pen case."

"Where is it?" Cen Xiao knew that he was too lazy to walk into the classroom, and planned to help him find it.

"In the table." Fu Zhun said.

However, Cen Xiao couldn't find Fu Zhun's pen case after searching for a long time, only a sketch he put in the belly of the table.

So he replied truthfully: "No, just a sketch, this is your homework, right? Do you want to take it with you?"

He took the painting out of the table and was about to hand it to Fu Zhun outside the window.

But when he turned around, he found that Fu Zhun had disappeared.

Only the evening wind of the autumn night poured in along the window, slowly blowing across Cen Xiao's cheeks.

……

Fu Zhun, who had fled, hurried out of the teaching building.

He walked in the night, secretly pinching his hot earlobe.

He felt that he had been bent into a coil of mosquito coils.

Since yesterday, when he realized that he was angry because of the bite mark on Cen Xiao's collarbone...

Fu Zhun found out that his problem was very serious.

Combined with all the previous experiences, Fu Zhun has almost concluded that he is really a crook.

Because he didn't reject dating with Cen Xiao at all.

She even hoped that Cen Xiao's bite mark was his.

"Damn it." Fu Zhun rubbed his face and couldn't help cursing secretly.

Exhaling, he barely suppressed his complicated emotions, calmed down and walked towards the art building.

When Fu Zhun arrived at the studio, most of the classmates had already arrived.

Even Teacher Xiao Yang has arrived.

Their art teacher, Xiao Yang, whose real name is Yang Zihao, is a boy who is not yet 30 years old. He is also a part-time art teacher in the first year of the art test, and he is quite familiar with Fu Zhun.

Xiao Yang and the classmates in the class have a lot of topics in common and have a good relationship. Occasionally slipping away to go on a date, everyone helps him cover up.

He came to the studio early this evening because he wanted to see who was still making up his homework.

"Qian Zhaoyang, it's you again." He quietly walked behind Qian Zhaoyang and knocked on his head: "You don't do your homework at home?"

"I forgot to bring my sketch book." Qian Zhaoyang touched his nose resentfully, and gave a reason casually.

Yang Zihao didn't bother to argue with him, so he turned a blind eye and passed by.

As long as it can be completed before his commentary, he will generally not be too embarrassed.

Fu Zhun sat in his seat expressionlessly, took a pencil and began to sharpen it to pass the time.

It's just that the way he sharpened the pencil was so fierce that Teacher Xiao Yang began to tremble: "Okay, okay, the pencil will be chipped by you later."

"He just has no heart." Fu Zhun, who was not on the same channel as him, said fiercely while chopping pencils.

Cen Xiao's mind was full of unspeakable images of his puppy love.

Yang Zihao: "..."

Not knowing what's wrong with this kid, Yang Zihao rolled his eyes and chose to ignore him.

When all the students in the class arrived, Yang Zihao asked them to spread all the sketches on the floor of the corridor.

There are four sheets of paper per person, and it is quite spectacular to lay them all down.

While wandering around, Xiao Yang held a small wooden stick that he had folded from nowhere, poking this one and that poking it, dividing the painting into several grades from high to low.

After cutting the pencil, Fu Zhun seemed to have lost his strength, and stood in the back row with drooping eyelids, looking sleepy.

"Why is one of our little brother's paintings missing?" Xiao Yang counted the number, and suddenly raised his voice to ask: "Where is my little brother?"

His so-called "little brother" is Fu Zhun.

Because when Yang Zihao was studying at the Academy of Fine Arts, the head of the department happened to be Fu Zhun's grandfather.

Fu Zhun learned painting from his grandfather since he was a child.If it really counts, Yang Zihao really has to call him senior brother.

However, this little senior just yawned lazily, and returned to the listless state just now, ignoring Yang Zihao.

Fortunately, Yang Zihao had sharp eyes and caught Fu Zhun at a glance, beckoning to him: "Come on, Fu Zhun, come to the front, so good-looking, why are you hiding behind? Let me explain why you are lazy."

"Brother." Fu Zhun raised his eyes and replied lazily.

His words made the whole class laugh inexplicably.

Yang Zihao let out a "hey" and glanced at the people around him. He rarely showed a bit of teacher's majesty: "Laugh again and let you draw again."

After a few words, the entire corridor was instantly quiet.

Seeing that his goal had been achieved, Xiao Yang coughed twice, and said to himself: "Okay, stop chattering, let's talk about sketching."

Qian Zhaoyang couldn't hold back for a while, and complained: "Boss Hao, isn't it all you talking about, we didn't even fart."

Yang Zihao was very dissatisfied with Qian Zhaoyang's sabotage behavior.

Coupled with the fact that this person was doing homework under his nose just now, Xiao Yang directly sprayed: "Qian Zhaoyang, you are so slick with your mouth, when will your hands be as slick as your mouth?"

He tapped Qian Zhaoyang's sketch with a stick: "Look at your sketch, is it still a person? How many heads?"

"How many times have I said that standing seven sits five-legged and three-and-a-half, can you stand with a seven-headed body? Do you have a three-headed body? Who can you draw a big-headed doll for?"

"Thousands of rivers and mountains are always love, can you draw seven heads?"

After speaking in one breath, he poked at Fu Zhun's sketch again, cleared his throat, and continued to spit and spit: "Look at our little brother, not only the proportions are fine, but also the light and shade are fine. The face and hands are handsomely drawn.

"Do you know what the teacher likes to look at most? Are you really a teacher who grades papers and takes pictures one by one to see if you look like you?"

"Wrong! People don't care if you look good or not. If you draw well, then you are good-looking!"

The eyes of the whole class followed the stick in Yang Zihao's hand and landed on Fu Zhun's painting.

Sketching does not require high facial precision, and it is common to draw facial features that have nothing to do with photos.

But when his faces are drawn, everyone can tell who this person is at a glance.

This is Cen Xiao.

It's a pity that Yang Zihao's usual hobbies don't include watching dramas, so he doesn't know much about Cen Xiao.

I didn't recognize it for a while.

But the students in the class noticed it, and after realizing it, they all turned their heads to look at Fu Zhun.

However, Fu Zhun just leaned against the fence, staring at the downstairs in a daze with his eyes empty.

"What are you looking back at? Looking at the painting." Yang Zihao noticed that everyone's attention was on Fu Zhun, and immediately tapped the stick in his hand: "You guys like to join in the fun."

He turned around again, read all the sketches carefully, and muttered while reading: "I don't know how to copy, and I don't know how to pick photos. I like to pick the ones that stand upright. How many times have I said that?" People who have no movement are the most difficult to draw, and they are rushing to draw one by one.”

"The folds of the clothes can't be drawn, and the light and dark are messed up."

"Okay, as long as you challenge the high difficulty, it's a good thing to practice your hands."

"Come on, who is that, our little brother, take out your sketchbook, turn it out and show them which page you drew this handsome guy on, and ask them to draw a few too."

Hearing the sound, Fu Zhun finally came back to his senses, and said slowly, "What?"

"What, what?" Xiao Yang pointed at his sketches with a stick: "These paintings are sketches, right? Find out the pictures of this handsome guy and draw them too."

Fu Zhun: "???"

all the classmates:"……"

Only then did Fu Zhun recover from his absent-mindedness.

He opened his mouth and stared blankly at Yang Zihao for ten seconds.

It wasn't until Xiao Yang's eyes were sore that he could barely stop.

He rubbed his eyes and urged: "Don't be daft, hurry up, I'm still waiting for the sketch."

Fu Zhun: "..."

Which book should he go to find a handsome guy like Cen Xiao to draw for everyone?

At this moment when the atmosphere was extremely embarrassing and the picture was almost static, a handsome young man who did not want to be named suddenly passed by...

When Cen Xiao was going upstairs, he heard the noise in the corridor on the second floor. Even with his eyes closed, he knew that the art class was commenting on homework.

Looking at the lost sketch in his hand, he inexplicably imagined the scene where Fu Zhun was scolded for not handing in his homework.

He didn't know what kind of mentality he was in, so he just sneaked a peek under the pretext of giving him homework.

Probably because he wanted to see Fu Zhun being scolded.

As a result, he just went up to the second floor, and as soon as he walked around the corner, he found that Fu Zhun, who was closest to the stairs, had been staring at him, as if he had seen him a long time ago.

The eyes of the two intersected instantly, and Cen Xiao's footsteps froze suddenly.

Probably because there was still some embarrassment left, Cen Xiao was not willing to bow his head to him first.

But I couldn't find a reasonable explanation to explain why he came here.

Cen Xiao paused for a while, then raised the painting in his hand to him.

As a result, Fu Zhun just raised his eyebrows and had no other reaction.

Cen Xiao suddenly felt a little depressed.

He didn't care about Fu Zhun any more, turned around and went downstairs, ready to go back to the classroom.

In the end, before he walked up two steps, he heard Fu Zhun raise his voice behind him——

"Hey—teacher."

"Our handsome boy is here."

Cen Xiao: "???"