I'm the only straight man in the entire dormitory of international students

After Randall came in, he went out again. A waiter came to him and said that a musician's guzheng was broken and asked him to help him adjust it.

Randall is nineteen years old and has been in China for more than six years, probably because of his talent.

Learned a lot of skills.

Guzheng, Dizi, Xiao, Erhu.

Piano, chess, calligraphy and painting, he is proficient in everything and can come at his fingertips.

Song Ziyan wanted to see it, but when he faced his senior brother, he felt a little flustered, so he had to wait in the box.

The sound of the rain outside the house, and the gurgling water inside the house.

Song Ziyan looked at a rockery by the wall. A welcoming pine tree stood on the cliff at the top of the mountain, and a round lantern fell from it.

There is a tilting jug embedded next to the tree, and the water flows from the entrance of the cave to the Mopan on the mountainside, and then flows into a lake with white springs.

Misty water mist emerges from the lake, and a few fish swim back and forth downstream of the lotus leaf.

Song Ziyan's mood has been fluctuating recently, so he calmed down a bit. When he heard the sound of the door and saw his senior brother come back, he was in a mess again.

Randall held two long rosewood boxes in his hand, one on the table and the other in front of Song Ziyan.

Song Ziyan looked at the wooden box, then raised his head to look at his senior brother, and asked unsurely, "Is it the flute?"

Randall smiled and sat opposite him: "Open it and have a look."

Song Ziyan did as he did, and then his eyes widened slightly. It was a well-made purple bamboo flute.

His face was full of joy, he took it out to watch, and praised it without hesitation.

Generally, bitter bamboo is used for flute selection, which is easy to make and easy to find.

Purple bamboo is difficult to make, and good purple bamboo is even harder to find.

Randall said with a smile: "Two months ago, I learned from a friend and made a flute and a flute. I just got it a few days ago. I don't know how the sound will be. Ziyan, give it a try."

Song Ziyan was taken aback for a moment, then shyly said, "Brother, is this flute for me?"

"Of course," Randall smiled, and opened his wooden box, which contained a flute. "Brother is selfish. You and I haven't played the flute for a long time, but I miss it very much."

Song Ziyan will also play some Chinese classical musical instruments. Since the summer vacation when he was 13 years old, he has enrolled in interest classes with Randall.

It's just that apart from flute and calligraphy and painting, he only knows a little bit about the rest.

And his attainments in the flute are slightly better than Randall's.

Song Ziyan couldn't put it down for this good flute, and said shyly: "Then, then I'm not welcome?"

Randall said with a smile: "What kind of politeness are you talking about with senior brother?"

Song Ziyan paused, glanced at Senior Brother, hesitated for a while, and said with a blushing face, "Is that so, do you really not need to be polite to Senior Brother?"

There is no such line in the book, he added lines for himself.

He decided to just wander around in front of his senior brother.

In this way, all his actions can become reasonable.

Randall didn't think much, just smiled softly: "Naturally, you are my closest junior brother. No matter what you do, senior brother will love you, respect you, and help you."

When Song Ziyan heard the words, he felt very guilty and guilty all of a sudden.

Shige refers to his appearance in women's clothes now, and the kiss between him and Uncle Yanqing.

Seeing his expression, Randall changed the subject, and said softly, "Ziyan, let's audition."

Song Ziyan nodded, took a while, held the flute in both hands, and pressed the finger holes.

Gently blowing, the crisp and melodious transparent flute sound came out.

Song Ziyan tried a few more notes, and after getting familiar with it, he played a piece of music directly.

The sound waves linger, and the night rain knocks on the window.

A desolate long flute sound came through the air.

Song Ziyan raised his eyes, the two looked at each other and smiled, the flute and flute sang in harmony, entangled in a misty way.

After the song was over, Randall slowly put down the flute, his eyebrows filled with enjoyment: "Careful, happy."

Song Ziyan was also satisfied, and smiled wildly: "It's better to play with senior brother, and there is absolutely no compliment."

Song Ziyan speaks from the heart, whether it is classical musical instruments, modern musical instruments, or calligraphy and painting.

He and his brother have the same hobbies.

Randall smiled in the spring breeze: "The same is true for the senior brother. By the way, I didn't bring the cleaning tools, so I will get them."

Every time the flute and flute are used up, they must be cleaned and disinfected.

Song Ziyan nodded. A piece of music lasted about 3 minutes, and he was a little thirsty after playing.

He picked up the celadon teacup on the table and was about to drink it.

Suddenly, he froze for a moment, looking at the contents in the cup, as if thinking of something.

Slowly, Song Ziyan's face turned red little by little.

At this time, the phone rang, and it was his uncle Yanqing who liked to play tricks on him.

Song Ziyan ignored him, but he was afraid that he would not let him go, so he picked it up.

"Where is it?" Bai Yanqing said in a low and lazy voice.

Song Ziyan replied honestly: "Eat."

"Where to eat?"

".Why are you asking so many questions? I've already done what you asked for."

Bai Yanqing laughed: "Yanyan, I just asked where you had dinner and wanted to go with you."

He doesn't want it.

Song Ziyan was about to speak when Randall came back. Seeing him on the phone, he pointed outside and silently asked himself if he should avoid it.

Song Ziyan shook his head subconsciously, but he regretted it after shaking his head. Senior brother won't add another layer of misunderstanding.

In fact, wandering is very difficult for him.

Song Ziyan was thinking nonsense here, Randall had already entered the door.

Bai Yanqing over there also made a sound.

"Ok?"

Song Ziyan looked at his senior brother, blushed, and couldn't speak for some reason.

"Speak."

".Yes. No, I will go to other places to play after eating by myself."

"with who?"

".None of your business."

Bai Yanqing smiled: "It can't be that Alex again."

Song Ziyan kept whispering like a thief, "No. I won't tell you anymore, I'm going to die."

Bai Yanqing noticed it, and narrowed his eyes slightly: "Why is the voice so low, who might hear it?"

"The environment, the environment is very quiet..." Song Ziyan glanced at his senior brother, and swallowed the rest of his words automatically.

"When will you be back tonight? I won't be out in the wild again, so I won't go home."

Song Ziyan was ashamed and annoyed, and suddenly felt that Uncle Yanqing was very annoying: "It's none of your business if you don't go home, you, you keep your duty."

"Oh?" Bai Yanqing said with a smile, "What's my duty? Is it possible that Yan Yan has helped me? Then I'll serve you from tonight, okay?"

Now Bai Yanqing never said anything serious to him.

Song Ziyan has always been unable to talk to him: "You think too much. Hang up the phone."

"Wait. Did you change your clothes?"

Song Ziyan hung up directly, and Randall was cleaning the flute, probably feeling his gaze.

Randall looked up, saw Song Ziyan's flushed face, and asked with a smile, "So you haven't had dinner yet?"

Song Ziyan was taken aback, embarrassed: "Yes." In the book he had eaten, but in reality he hadn't.

Randall didn't know for a while whether Song Ziyan came to him because of something in the car.

He thought for a moment, but he didn't ask any questions, but just stretched out his hand: "Give me the flute, you eat first."

"No need," Song Ziyan said hastily, "I'll just do it myself."

Randall got up, went to the sink to wash his hands, took a bone china bowl on the table, filled a bowl of rice, and placed it in front of Song Ziyan.

"Don't be polite anymore." Randall said with a smile, taking away the flute and wooden box.

Song Ziyan felt warm and embarrassed, looked at Randall who was sitting across from him, and after a while, he held his chopsticks and stammered, "Master, brother, it's only three things, yes, you said it twice, I don't have to be polite. There seemed to be a deep meaning in his words, and Randall caught it, and couldn't help asking: "Ziyan, what's the matter? Just tell me, and my brother will definitely help you."

Song Ziyan blushed and shook his head, didn't speak, and picked up vegetables to eat.

Seeing this, Randall had no choice but to continue cleaning. After finishing a flute, he packed it in a box and listened to Song Ziyan.

"Brother, Uncle Yanqing and I are not in a relationship."

Randall looked at him, probably not expecting him to talk about it.

Song Ziyan didn't look at him, and ate with his head down, his face always red: "...Anyway, just remember. That kiss was an accident."

Randall paused, smiled and said, "Okay."

"Then, is brother free tonight? Yes, I want to ask you for a favor."

"Yes. Tell me."

"That's right," the plot in the book flashed by, Song Ziyan's face was hot, and he said with great effort, "I want Senior Brother...to help me draw a full-body portrait."

Randall wondered what was going on, carefully cleaned the flute hole with alcohol, and smiled warmly: "It's so difficult."

This matter was less than half done, and Song Ziyan began to plan for the next thing.

During the period, Randall chatted with him about the painting activities about two days ago.

That is tomorrow.

Mr. Bai has been a teacher in the Chinese painting major of S University for more than a year. As his student, Randall has already met many seniors and sisters who like him even though he has not yet entered school.

Tomorrow, a senior who opened a studio will take on a job to paint a mural for a newly developed tourist town, which will take a month or two.

If they go, they will pay for a part-time job, and the price of a painting depends on the size and difficulty.

For Randall, the cost doesn't matter, the main thing is the life experience.

He has not come into contact with that new type of mural.

When Randall talks about this aspect, he has a tendency to talk endlessly.

Song Ziyan listened and was also interested, but: "Brother, the food is getting cold."

"Okay," Randall smiled, and put the flute in a box, "you will know tomorrow."

Song Ziyan nodded, watching Randall wash his hands, his heartbeat became disordered.

move faster...

He squeezed his palm hard, grabbed a chopstick, and threw it from under the table to Randall's stool.

The chopsticks were made of silver, and when they fell to the ground, they made a loud noise.

Song Ziyan made a gesture to pick it up, and when Randall came back, he said, "You sit down, I'll come."

Song Ziyan responded lightly, waiting for Randall to throw the tissue to wipe his hands into the trash can.

He breathed slightly, and slowly pulled up the knee-length skirt.

This is a typical Chinese dining table with four corners and no tablecloth.

Randall bent down, picked up the chopsticks, and was about to get up, when he caught a glimpse of two snow colors from the corner of his eye.

He paused suddenly, hesitated for a moment, and looked across.

A pair of small black leather shoes, and a pair of white socks with lace over the ankles.

And, the hem of the skirt is piled up.

Except for that one place, everything is exposed without a doubt, two tender and white legs.

The author has something to say: Isn't this looking for um--? (Goutou Yanyan, why don’t you still hope that the subjects of the plot are not Bai Yanqing and Kim Jong-hyuk? If it’s them, you have children, right?

It’s really not good to make slices now (cover your face, but I can guarantee that the final circle will be at the end of the story.

and also.

When is Fegelein coming back?

Laugh dead, he is back too (secret) (狗头