Intergalactic Era of Gossip

Chapter 8: [Don't make fun of it] He slowly suppressed a humiliated expression

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Naren coughed nonchalantly: "Thank you."

Sells was curious: "This is..."

"Nothing!" Naren became alert, "A friend who was injured asked me to buy it. Look, do I look like a sick person?"

Sells shook his head: "Not like."

Naren breathed a sigh of relief.

"But what you just said..."

Nalen blinked suspiciously: "What did I say? Did I say anything? No, you misunderstood, I didn't say anything."

This time it was Sayers' turn to be silent.

Naren stroked his stubble and thought to himself: He is just a greasy man with a big stubble now, no matter how embarrassing he is, it has nothing to do with Naren Sharvi. In extraordinary times, it is inevitable to swallow your anger; the premise of creating chaos is not to involve yourself.

"My friend is still waiting for me. He is seriously injured. I can't delay any longer. I will..."

"Let's go" hadn't come to remember the words, Searce interrupted him: "There are many medicinal baths in the hot spring club, and the healing effect is good. Maybe you can let your friends try it?"

Nalen waved his hand: "No, no, no."

Sells: "There is also a medicated bath pack, which is more convenient, just take it home and put it in the bathtub for a soak."

Naren shook his head desperately.

Sells looked suspicious: "If you are really a friend, don't you want him to get better soon?"

Naren wiped away tears: "Poverty makes me rational."

Sells: "…"

"Hello!"

On the side, the actor boy who had been robbed for a long time finally couldn't hold back. He rushed and got stuck between the two of them. He glared at Naren first, then turned his head to put on a sad and indignant expression, and said, "Sells, you should be responsible for me."

The Imperial Marshal thought for a moment and asked, "Are you?"

The young man immediately had an expression of "Fuck you, a heartless man". He tore his clothes, revealing a large red mark on his collarbone.

Nalen: "..." This is really too dedicated.

——Looks like he needs to ask Alida to pack a big red envelope for him.

"Look, you left this to me. Sayers, no matter what your reasons are, you can't deny that I was the one who spent the night with you."

The young man showed a desolate smile, "I thought you would dislike me and regret it, so I didn't dare to face you when I woke up in the morning."

The topic changed, and the dark eyes sparkled: "But later, I saw you looking for me! I mustered up the courage to come here, but you became so cold..."

Sells: "Wait..."

The boy said excitedly: "No! Tell me first, why do you deny everything that happened that night?"

Sells was silent.

Naren moved quietly, trying to stay away from the Shura field, but his wrist hurt and he was caught. And the instigator - the Marshal who was forced to play against the showman, was looking ahead calmly, as if it wasn't him who stretched out his hand to grab the person at this moment.

Naren: "..."

Why did you pull him in when you played against each other? !

He's just an innocent passerby.

The young man's eyes fell on the hands they held tightly, his eyes were a little dazed, and he pointed: "You guys are..."

Nalen: "..." Seriously act, boy, don't be distracted by such insignificant things!

Sells: "Where did you just say that? Deny it?"

The boy nodded, opened his mouth, and didn't utter a word for a long time, with a particularly helpless expression.

"I, uh I..."

Naren: "..." Is this a forgotten word? Nima, you forgot the words!

Sells' tone was gentle: "What happened that night, how much do you remember?"

The boy quickly re-entered the state, and said angrily: "I remember it, you called me little baby, and you said you like my collarbone the most."

Nalen's body froze, and his eyes began to empty.

There's no such thing as "little baby" and Sells prefers to call him "little beauty", and he prefers to gnaw his thighs than his collarbones... No, that doesn't seem to be the point.

Nalen glared at the young man: Don't just add drama to others, it's easy to pass through, you know that!

Sells looked away lightly and asked, "Did you see it?"

Nalen reacted for a long time before realizing that Sells was looking at the question he asked. He blinked, a little dazed—why, why did you ask this suddenly

Sayers reminded: "Still very heartbroken about this?"

Nalen raised his face seriously: "..." That's right, the nonsense he said to the freckled man just now seems to be the script—witnessing the imperial marshal's affair with an underage boy, and seeing the marshal's irresponsible use of money The boy was sent away.

So how long had Sells been eavesdropping behind him

The boy was very upset about being robbed repeatedly, "Who is he?"

Sells was thoughtful: "You don't know him?"

The boy gave Nalen a disgusted look: "Why should I know him?"

Nalen: "..." I'm your teammate, a dramatist.

Sells gave a meaningful "oh", and the ending sound rose, which was very intriguing.

"Since you say you remember everything, which arm of mine has a birthmark?"

Naren frowned, and if he remembered correctly...

"Both of them have no birthmarks!" Such bluffing questions have long been outdated, and the young man gave the answer decisively, adding: "Your two arms don't have any marks."

Alas... Naren closed his eyes, unable to bear to watch what happened next.

Sells said calmly: "I do not have a birthmark on my arm, but there is a ten-centimeter-long scar." He rolled up his cuffs, and there was a hideous scar on his arm.

"..." The young man fell silent, his delicate facial features wrinkled together, as if he was very puzzled by this unconventional world.

"Andrea, take this impostor into custody." This farce had been going on for a long time, and Sells put down his sleeves, thinking it was time to end it.

The adjutant, who had been silently serving as the background not far away, straightened his back instantly after being named.

The young man cried "Wow!": "Master Marshal! I'm just a penniless orphan! I'm forced by livelihood, please let me go!"

Sells asked, "What about you?" He stared at Naren with dark eyes, with a stern and compelling demeanor.

Nalen felt that if his answers were fatally flawed, the consequences would be dire. The point is that he can't even run, and Sells still grabs his wrist.

After looking at each other for a while, he slowly suppressed a humiliated expression.

"That's right, as I said before, I adore you, follow you, and love you... The reason why I smear you with clumsy lies is just to hope that there will be fewer people who like you, and then fewer, until everyone No longer compete with me for your attention... Forgive my self-righteousness, Marshal, no one cares about you more than me, and I also hate this kind of myself who only brings trouble to you."

Naren knew what he was now—hairy, greasy, and with this disgusting confession, Sells would soon be tempted to leave him.

This is just a strategic show of weakness. A man can bend and stretch, and when the time comes to remove the stubble and wig, he will be the aloof Prince Chalvet again. Who Thomas will remember him!