The Merry Prince of the Republic of China[Transmigration Book]

Guan Boya's eyes softened, Hexi's sunlight hit his side face, silky black long hair draped over his shoulders, his whole body exuded a cold aura like snow mountain jade, but only when he met Shen Qingchuan, This cold wind, as sharp as a knife's edge, instantly turned into a soft and gentle spring breeze.

"What do I want, don't you know?"

As soon as Guan Boya softened, Shen Qingchuan's breathing rhythm slowed down, and he stared straight into Guan Boya's eyes, like an irresistible gravitational force, he directly drowned in Guan Boya's eyes.

Shen Qingchuan's long and dense eyelashes cast a very light shadow on his white and jade-like cheeks, his eyelids have shallow creases, delicate and smooth, like a cherry blossom petal wet by spring rain, slightly pink, gradually Approach tentatively.

The bright red lips were moistened even more beautifully by the exhaled breath, Shen Qingchuan gently moved to the corner of Guan Boya's mouth and kissed, and then looked at Guan Boya's face with misty eyes, and saw that he was holding a bodhisattva Like compassion, no joy and no compassion.

Shen Qingchuan was bold again, leaned close to Guan Boya's ear, and said love words in that clear voice, "After meeting you, I will never look down on anyone again, you have to believe me."

The youth's eyes are like water looking up at others, full of affection, unlimited love, really like a fairy who has fallen into love, just one glance will fan the spring in the room, making people fascinated. .

Guan Boya could feel his heartbeat speeding up for a moment, and the color in his eyes was full of the wind and rain, but the flames could not be washed away. He stretched out his hand and pinched the soft flesh on the back of Shen Qingchuan's neck, and sighed with his brows closed, Leaning close to Shen Qingchuan's crow-black temples, he said, "Don't let others see your appearance, otherwise...I really want to fuck/death you."

Guan Boya's slender fingers pinched Shen Qingchuan's chin tightly, rubbing her fingertips forcefully, her lips became more red, like plump cherries ripen after soaking in water, the skin would break with a little force, and sweet red juice would flow out.

Shen Qingchuan was frightened, and took half a step back, accidentally propped his hand on the drawing paper on the table, and the ink on the drawing paper that hadn't fully dried was instantly smeared and the paper was crumpled.

"You ruined one of my paintings, you should pay me for one." After finishing speaking, Guan Boya hugged Shen Qingchuan horizontally, took off his white shirt, and put Shen Qingchuan to the soft bed in the studio.

The cloth with purple bronzing blessing pattern sets off Shen Qingchuan's back which is more than three points whiter than snow. The butterfly bone is exquisite.

Guan Boya held a jade-tube Zihao pen dipped in vermilion paint, and the paint slowly trickled out from the end of the pen, and landed on Shen Qingchuan's snowy back, like a few red plums falling from a tree in the cold wind, and buried in the pure white In the snowdrift.

Shen Qingchuan was lying on his back on a soft bed, pillowed on a silky smooth blanket, with his arms folded together, his delicate chin resting on top of it, the cold wind was pouring in from the window, he was not very afraid of the cold, let him What makes him uncomfortable is that he fiddled with the brush on his back, the tip of the brush was filled with water, and when it fell on his back, he was blown by the wind, making it cold.

The most important thing is that the strength of Guan Boya's writing is sometimes light and sometimes heavy, like a gossamer, he can't guess where the next stroke will fall, his heart is like being scratched by a kitten, Shen Qingchuan's nerves are tense, it is still difficult to do these things. relatively shy.

"Bo Ya, forget it, I'll draw you a picture tomorrow, and I'll pay you back." Shen Qingchuan tilted his head, wanting to get up, it's not good to do these things during the day.

"Don't move, if you make a wrong stroke, it will ruin this picture of plum blossoms."

White snow and red plums are the most suitable for the occasion.

Guan Boya held Shen Qingchuan's waist with one hand, pressed down/pressed hard, restrained Shen Qingchuan and prevented him from moving. The red pigment slid down obliquely from the snowy back to the slightly sunken spine, converging into a drop of red plum dew .

Shen Qingchuan's waist was very slender, and his charming waist trembled slightly, just like the snow falling from the branches in winter, his skin was tense.

After a while, Guan Boya didn't write down his pen, Shen Qingchuan thought that this matter was over.

"Unfortunately, this pen is out of water, and the paint cannot be smudged."

Guan Boya said with regret that when Shen Qingchuan took a breath, the next second he couldn't help making a small and vague whine, because the tip of the pen penetrated into the Yuxue Peak Valley, and was about to go deep, That white snow grinds/into water.

Shen Qingchuan's two moons moved back together and moshaed on the silk and purple cloth, clutching the pillow with his fingers, buried his face in the pillow to silence the whimpering, tears were coming from the corners of his eyes, as if being swept away by red plum branches in the falling snow .

Guan Boya pulled out the tip of the pen, and the tip of the pen flowed out with clear water to wet the back that was as white as snow. He probably thought that the paper was too plain, and the paper with a reddish foundation was better, and he hated Shen Qingchuan trembling Like snow waves, falling paintbrushes are unstable.

Guan Boya sat straddling her body, firmly held Shen Qingchuan's shoulder with one hand, and slowly slid down. He was dressed in a black robe sprinkled with golden bamboo leaf silk, his long hair was loose, and he was quite upright, but his movements were slow and fierce. , The strength of the lowering is very heavy, but it is not a matter of correctness.

Shen Qingchuan's flushed face was dripping with sweat, and he wanted to take a deep breath, like a dying fish thrown ashore. It's almost winter, and a thin layer of sweat formed on his back, and his skin was slightly pink , The sweat gathers and slides towards the waist and spine, like the melting snow of a snow mountain, gathering and flowing into a clear stream.

Can only rely on instinct to entangle tightly, Shen Qingchuan felt that his mind was lost, and the only trace of consciousness was to suppress his voice back to his throat or bury it deeply in the pillow, and pulled the silk and purple blanket with all his strength. And whitish.

Every touch was like an electric shock, tears welled up in the eyes, and the misty water vapor wet the black eyelashes, obviously emotional.

However, the expression on Guan Boya's face was still that of an immortal on the Moon Palace, with an indifferent expression, holding a brush in his hand and meticulously brushing the sweat from Shen Qingchuan's snowy back, and continued to paint, but the rolling Adam's apple betrayed him, the faint look in his eyes Light and dark.

Shen Qingchuan tilted his head, looked at Guan Boya with affectionate eyes, the tears in his eyes were like spring water overflowing, he wanted to kiss Guan Boya, and wanted to beg for mercy, but his voice shattered and hid in the cold wind, Vaguely, he said, "Bo... Bo Ya... that's enough."

Guan Boya leaned over and kissed away the teardrops that had slid to Shen Qingchuan's temples, and said unhurriedly, "Don't cry, my heart will feel bad when you cry."

Shen Qingchuan's tears rolled down more and more, just like the broken beads, falling down one by one, but Guan Boya's actions became more fierce, changing from the gentleness and high frequency before, directly making Shen Qingchuan Crying voices came out.

The painting on the back of the young man is a picture of red plums and falling snow. It should be a proud fight against the snow, but what fell on him was the rich color of flowers in the world from spring to earth. The pink and fragrant sweat flowed into a purple pillow. , the hair on the temples is as black as ink, there is a fine fragrance of orchid musk, the fat jade is powdery, and the heavy wetness is like rouge.

Shen Qingchuan cried like a kitten, Guan Boya kissed the back of his neck pityingly, wiped away a drop of sweat with his tongue, whispered to Shen Qingchuan's temples, but his strength was still the same. Slightly weakened, Shen Qingchuan was shaken until his eyes were dim, and he wanted to crawl out indiscriminately, but was dragged back, and his five fingers were tightly clasped from the back of his hand.

The cold wind at the north window has not slanted, and the room gradually hears trembling.

The author has something to say: Xiao Haitang thought of a physics problem I did a long time ago. The higher the frequency of objects moving in the air, the greater the amplitude. However, it is not the same thing underwater. The propagation speed of water has nothing to do with the depth of the water. The deeper the water, the better it can absorb the kinetic energy of the item.

Manual anti-theft, refresh at 9:[-]