It was the first time Nan Zhou saw the scene after drinking.
After blending the retro-industrial light and color of the bar, Nan Zhou seemed to have knocked over a rack of condiment trays in front of his eyes.
He had never seen such dazzling, unrealistic, and too romantic colors.
He looked freshly at the suddenly changed world in front of him, and stretched out his fingertips, trying to color this huge palette with the world as the background color.
The luthier seemed to be the first to notice that he was wrong.
The violinist took his shoulders with one hand, covered his fluffy hair with one hand from behind, and pressed his head slightly hard on his shoulders.
He said to everyone in a calm tone, "Do you want to go dancing?"
The man with earrings grabbed the board game cards he had just grabbed for a few seconds with a bewildered look on his face: "…Boss, we haven't started a new game yet—"
Song Haining was very knowledgeable, and immediately started to collect cards from everyone's hands: "Think about it."
A group of people came in a hurry, and then retreated in a hurry.
…
Jiang Fang was quite confused.
Holding Nan Zhou's shoulders and clinging to his body, Jiang Fang could feel his body temperature rising rapidly.
The alcoholic air exhaled from his mouth and nose slowly flowed against the side of Jiang Fang's neck.
It felt amazing to have a hot and flexible body against him.
… he was drunk.
Jiang Fang just wanted to distract Nan Zhou with that joke, and also tricked him into drinking some wine, so that he could moisten his lips and blend in with the atmosphere.
Even if he loosened a button, Nan Zhou was still too serious.
However, what happened in front of him was not what Jiang Fang wanted.
Because it means losing control.
A sober Nan Zhou, he was still able to control it.
But drunk...
Driving Song Haining and the others away was also because Jiang Fang was afraid that Nanzhou would suddenly rise up and lead the outcome to an even more uncontrollable situation.
When Jiang Fang was trying to get along with Nan Zhou, he no longer hid a self-defense dagger or an electric shock on his body.
However, at the very moment, I can only be sorry.
To show his sincere apology, Jiang Fang decided that he could suffer with him.
Jiang Fang gently hugged Nan Zhou's head with one hand and kneaded it rhythmically to help him relax. With the other hand, he took out the electric shocker from the warehouse and slowly pressed it towards his waist—
Suddenly, Nan Zhou's fingertips caressed the back of his neck and wiped it lightly.
Su Yan's touch made Jiang Fang's body suddenly tighten.
… He thought it meant some kind of warning.
Jiang Fang asked in a rather calm tone, "What are you doing?"
Nan Zhou's voice was still cold and clear: "I'm coloring you."
Nan Zhou: "Don't move."
Nan Zhou: "I managed to choose a color, as long as I move it, the color will run away."
Jiang Fang's heart suddenly calmed down.
He couldn't help laughing at his nervousness.
The guard relaxed, and Jiang Fang's voice followed closely: "Why do you want to color me?"
"because… "
Nan Zhou paused for a moment, trying to find a suitable word to describe: "...you are a person without color."
This was originally a drunken speech without logic.
But Jiang Fang's heart was inexplicably poked.
Nan Zhou patted his shoulder comfortingly: "When I add color to you, you will be gone."
As he said that, he pushed Jiang Fang's chest with one hand and said, "Forget it, it's not convenient to paint like this."
After all, he will get up.
However, Jiang Fang was in a trance just now, and he had not had time to retrieve the electric shock device that was still on his thigh and separated between the two.
Realizing that the situation was not right, Jiang Fang took decisive action, exerted force with one hand, and pressed Nan Zhou's head back onto his shoulders again.
Nan Zhou's still moist warm lips brushed against the skin of his neck, causing him to shudder violently.
He covered up: "It's good to color me like this."
Nan Zhou is like a house cat on the edge of sobriety and confusion, obediently following the instructions in the palm of his hand: "Yeah."
Jiang Fang turned his gaze slightly to the side, and saw Nan Zhou's clavicle that had been burned to a pale pink color.
A strange and unfamiliar feeling passed through his heart.
There is a slight crunch in the internal organs.
Probably the stomach.
Or a little bit further up.
The music faded.
The silhouettes of the buildings also faded.
The sounds of conversation, laughter, and the bartender's use of ice pillars and long wine spoon ice glasses all gradually faded away.
There is only one voice left in the world.
—A drunk little painter, his fingertips rubbed the skin near his butterfly bone, making a rustling sound.
But soon, Jiang Fang regretted it.
…
After getting the permission of the piano master, Nan Zhou began to paint seriously.
But before tossing on the piano master for a while, he peeled Nan Zhou from his body with a strong force.
Nan Zhou looked at him dissatisfiedly: "..." I haven't finished drawing yet.
The violinist looked very cramped, and the rhythm of his breathing was chaotic, which was very different from what Nan Zhou thought he should look like.
But Nan Zhou was much more pleasing to his eye.
Because his bare and exposed skin, including his cheeks, was uniformly dyed a light red, and the color ratio was excellent.
Nan Zhou thought he couldn't adjust such an excellent color, so he raised his hand curiously and touched the corner of his mouth, asking humbly, "Excuse me, how did you adjust this?"
Musician: "...?"
He turned his face away, avoiding his fingertips, looking reluctantly.
But Nan Zhou found out.
As soon as his fingers touched his skin, the faded color would reappear.
Nan Zhou never hides his thirst for knowledge: "Teach me."
The piano player's voice was a little stagnant: "Don't make trouble."
Nan Zhou found that he seemed to resist, so he dismissed the idea of getting to the bottom of it: "Well."
After he finished speaking, he put his hands that were about to move on his knees.
Unexpectedly, the piano master looked at him for a while, and his expression became more subtle.
One of his hands seemed to be inadvertently pressing on the bottom of his thigh, his knees were in one place, and his thumbs were against the side of his legs, as if he was trying his best to restrain something.
But obviously, this is quite difficult for the luthier.
The evidence is that he clenched his fists and muttered in a low voice: "... чорт (damn)"
Nan Zhou: "What does this mean?"
The musician raised his head, and a strand of sweat-soaked silver hair slipped down and stuck to his left eye: "Hmm. It's to say hello."
Nan Zhou said, "I remember it."
With the volatilization of the cider's alcohol, the effect of the water of life followed, secretly detonated and exploded in Nan Zhou's body.
Nan Zhou leaned on the soft sofa, feeling that he was sinking and sinking.
The high heat turned into an endless red sea, propelling his consciousness, floating and sinking in it.
He rubbed his temples, trying to keep his balance.
But he straightened his slightly curly, wet black hair into a mess, and his body was still sinking and sinking uncontrollably.
Nan Zhou was too dizzy to sit still.
When he found that Nan Zhou's body was sliding down the sofa, the musician wanted to pick it up, but it was too late.
The violinist stood up, inserted one leg in time to his differential, and used his toes to pad Nan Zhou's back hip.
It can be considered to avoid the contact between Nanzhou and the icy ground.
Nan Zhou sat cross-legged on his textured and shiny leather toes, as if he had forgotten why he fell here.
The violinist stepped back on one leg and squatted down to his line of sight: "Do you need me to hold you up, or can you stand up by yourself?"
Nan Zhou raised his head slightly and observed the violinist for a while.
...then lightly rubbed his crotch against his glossy black leather upper.
Nan Zhou didn't mean to do something.
What he meant by this move was, can't stand up, please hug me.
He has never been shy about admitting his weaknesses.
But Nan Zhou saw that the piano master's face turned into an indescribable crimson again.
He also heard an inexplicable sound: "... tsk."
Nan Zhou tilted his head, thinking that the piano master had denied his proposal.
He was not depressed either, he turned sideways, intending to be self-reliant and get up on his own. Whoever wanted to have a soft knee would fall into the arms of the violinist who was about to come to help him.
Nan Zhou moved forward, and the musician went backward.
Nan Zhou sat in a straddle position, sitting on the violinist's lower abdomen.
The glass coffee table above and the bright black spar floor all reflect the two people who are compatible.
As if there were six people, the shadows formed a pair.
Nan Zhou's upper body fell on the piano master, and he also grabbed the hands that the piano master had just stretched out to him, like a boiled sugar man, sticking to people without any bones.
The violin master stared at his red cheeks that were close at hand, and Nan Zhou held his hands above his head.
Nan Zhou was also watching him, carefully observing the weird chemical reaction that was taking place in his body.
After a while, he discovered a very strange thing.
He said frankly: "I seem to have the urge to reproduce with you."
Nan Zhou's tone carried a bit of intoxicating distress and misunderstanding, and it was so sincere that the piano master was stunned for a long time before he understood what he was talking about.
The violinist was at a loss for words: "...why?"
"You are special."
Nan Zhou took every question of the violinist seriously: "You will make delicious food."
"You will talk to me and not be afraid of me."
"You were the first to take me out."
"When I saw you on the balcony, I had a slight reproductive urge for you. But not as real and explicit as it is now."
"I'm also wondering why this is. Can you think about it with me."
…
Jiang Fang listened carefully to each of Nan Zhou's reasons.
He pondered for a moment, then laughed sullenly: "This is... very dangerous. It's the same for you and me."
Nan Zhou seemed to understand his concerns: "I'm talking about serious things now, and I won't vomit."
Jiang Fang: "I'm not worried about this... Well, I'm quite worried about this too."
Nan Zhou reassured: "I won't vomit."
Seeing that Nan Zhou was shaken by the alcohol, he couldn't sit still, Jiang Fang subconsciously raised his waist and stabilized his body.
But he immediately regretted it.
He should have let Nan Zhou lie down on this cold floor to clear his mind.
Even so, Jiang Fang still supported his waist and said patiently, "It was a good night. Is it?"
Nan Zhou nodded dully.
"So, let's not spoil this beauty, okay?"
Meeting Nan Zhou's inexplicable eyes, Jiang Fang softened his voice and pushed him away little by little in a coaxing tone.
"It's a fledgling complex, and it can manifest itself in the way...you say, the urge to reproduce, but it's just the urge to reproduce."
"This urge is not real, and it's not worth wasting on me."
"Although the apple is the forbidden fruit of Adam and Eve, I am not Adam, and a person like me will not give my rib to others."
"I can only be that snake."
"I'm not young, many things in the world, many people, I haven't seen enough, and I haven't played enough, so I will work hard, live alone."
"So... the two of us, just be friends, okay?"
Nan Zhou sat on Jiang Fang ignorantly: "...Is that so?"
Seeing that he understood, Jiang Fang gently patted his waist: "This is the best."
Seeing Nan Zhou dazed, there was no sadness on his face, only a little confused, Jiang Fang felt more at ease.
Even he didn't know the source of his reassurance that he was "fearing him to be sad".
He said, "Nanzhou, let's not stay here. I'll take you out to sober up, okay?"
…
"Paper Gold" has a large temperature difference between day and night, and it is much cooler at night.
got windy.
The cool breeze was blowing against his cheeks, like a light kiss from the night god.
After lying on the piano master for a while, Nan Zhou gained some strength.
Although he stumbled a bit and could only be led by the musician, at least he was able to walk by himself.
They passed a van delivering desserts.
Three or four NPCs in tooling are unloading.
When they passed by, countless silvery and fine particles were suddenly blown into the air in an instant, surrounding them like snow sleet.
Thousands of trees, pear blossoms are in full bloom.
There was a faint scent of sugar in the air.
Nan Zhou: "Ah, snow."
"It's not snow," the luthier said. "It's an easter egg from a movie many years ago. The game designers combined this with 'paper gold'. As long as two people pass by the dessert truck together, it is possible to trigger the 'sugar'. Snow' plot."
Nan Zhou picked up the "snow" flying all over the sky with his hands.
The "snow" that fell on his palm really didn't have the hexagonal shape of snow, just a thin bit of frost, which quickly melted and dissipated under the palm temperature.
Musician: "That movie fits the atmosphere of the city very well."
"I'll take you to see if I'm free in the future..."
"I figured it out."
Nan Zhou suddenly interrupted the piano teacher.
His thoughts were slow, and he had been stuck in the bar so far, so he had no time to digest the story.
Nan Zhou turned his head and faced the piano master in the snowy sky.
He was serious, just like when he made an oath to the priest at the wedding.
Nan Zhou said, "You don't want to be Adam. I can."
…
Nan Zhou didn't know that, with just one sentence, a large crack was instantly struck on the mental fence that Jiang Fang had built with his own hands.
Jiang Fang could resist those intimate and ambiguous actions, but he couldn't resist this simple and lovely sentence.
Jiang Fang's breathing suddenly became heavier.
The atmosphere is just right.
The scene is just right.
People... aren't bad either.
Jiang Fang's real physical reaction forced him to forget everything he just said.
He wasn't as dashing as he said.
He clearly remembered the day when the apple tree was planted for Nanzhou.
He remembered the apple that rolled into the balcony.
He remembered the satisfaction in Nan Zhou's heart when he ate what he made.
He remembered that when he and Nan Zhou slept in the same bed, Nan Zhou was extremely dependent on himself because of his lack of understanding of the outside world.
It was silently clamoring for the noun that made Jiang Fang terrified but had never come into contact with.
In the icy snow, he unconsciously bullied Nan Zhou.
For a moment, Jiang Fang wanted to try it with Nan Zhou, who was in the icing sugar, watching him seriously.
Even if it means he's going to step into a frenzy.
Seeing that Jiang Fang was approaching him, Nan Zhou just stood there, letting him move.
Drunkenness turned him into a docile animal with little vigilance.
…
The warm aroma of icing sugar and the faint scent of each other's body were entangled between the two's breaths.
However, when the distance between the lips of the two was only half an inch, Nan Zhou paused.
His downward gaze landed on the gap in front of the person in front of him.
He frowned subtly.
The next second, Nan Zhou's fingers pressed against the chest of the person in front of him, preventing him from getting closer.
"This is not you." Nan Zhou said, "You should be bigger than this."
…
In an instant, the dream stopped.
The game will engrave the player's most hormonal memory, and a NPC who is good at performing will seamlessly mirror the original script, lines, and actions.
If you can't detect the weirdness of the dream and can't get out of the dream, then the player will always fall asleep in this dark cabin with full of desire.
After all the illusions are cracked, the warm and romantic painting skin has faded.
The perfect image of the musician in front of Nan Zhou's eyes instantly shattered under his words.
His skin was cracked, revealing a... a wolf head with a hideous smile. :,