Forces of Temptation

This is the first time Nanzhou saw the scene after drinking.

After blending the light and color of the bar with a retro industrial atmosphere, Nan Zhou seemed to have knocked over a rack of condiment trays.

He has never seen such dazzling, unrealistic and romantic colors.

He looked freshly at the suddenly changed world in front of him, and stretched out his fingertips, wanting to touch this huge palette with the world as the background color.

The luthier seemed to be the first to notice that he was wrong.

The luthier put one hand on his shoulders, covered his fluffy hair from behind with one hand, and pressed his head slightly **** his shoulders.

He said to everyone in a calm tone: "Do you want to dance?"

The man with ear studs grabbed the board game cards he just grabbed for a few seconds and said: "…Boss, we haven't started a new game yet—"

Song Haining was very knowledgeable, and immediately started to collect cards from everyone: "Think about it."

A group of people came and retreated.

…

Jiang Fang was dumbfounded.

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.

The hot and pliable body was against him, and it felt amazing.

…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 into the atmosphere.

Even if one button is loosened, Nan Zhou is still too serious.

However, what happened in front of me was not what Jiang Fang wanted.

Because it means losing control.

The sober Nanzhou is still in control.

But drunk...

To drive Song Haining and the others away, Jiang Fang was also afraid that Nanzhou would suddenly rise up and lead the ending to an even more uncontrollable situation.

Jiang Fang is no longer hiding a self-defense dagger or electric shock when trying to get along with Nanzhou.

However, at a very momentary time, I can only be sorry.

To show her sincere apology, Jiang Fang decided that she 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 Itching's touch made Jiang Fang's body suddenly tighten.

…he thought it meant some kind of warning.

Jiang Fang asked in a very 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 finally chose a color, as long as I move it, the color will run away."

Jiang Fang's heart suddenly relaxed.

He laughed at his nervousness.

The guard relaxed, and Jiang Fang's voice became more natural: "Why do you want to color me?"

"Because of..."

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 talk 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 no more."

Speaking, he pushed Jiang Fang's chest with one hand and said, "Forget it, it's inconvenient 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.

Aware that the situation was not right, Jiang Fang decisively shot, exerted force with one hand, and pressed Nan Zhou's head back to his shoulders again.

Nanzhou's warm lips that were still wet brushed the skin of his neck, causing him to shudder violently.

He covered up: "It's good to color me like this."

Nanzhou 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 Nanzhou's clavicle that was burnt to a pale pink color.

A strange and unfamiliar sensation passed through his heart.

There is a slight crunch in the internal organs.

Probably the stomach.

Or a little further.

The music has faded.

The figures also faded.

The sound of conversation, laughter, and the bartender's use of icicles and long wine spoons of ice glasses gradually faded away.

There is only one voice left in the world.

—a drunk little painter, his fingertips touched the skin near his butterfly bone, making a rustling sound.

But soon Jiang Fang regretted it.

…

After getting permission from the luthier, Nan Zhou began to paint seriously.

But before he tossed on the luthier for a while, he peeled Nan Zhou off his body with a half force.

Nan Zhou looked at him dissatisfiedly: "..." I haven't finished painting 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 the eye.

Because his exposed skin, including his cheeks, was uniformly dyed a light red, the color ratio was excellent.

Nan Zhou thought that he couldn't make 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?"

The luthier: “…?”

He turned his face away, avoiding his fingertips, looking reluctantly.

But Nanzhou found it.

As soon as his finger touches his skin, the faded color will reappear.

Nanzhou never hides her thirst for knowledge: "Teach me."

The musician's voice was a little stagnant: "Don't make trouble."

Nan Zhou found that he really seemed to resist, so he gave up 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 luthier looked at him for a while, and his expression became more subtle.

He put one hand on the bottom of his thigh seemingly unintentionally, with his knees on one place, and his thumbs on 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: "...чорт (damn

Nan Zhou: "What does this mean?"

The musician raised his head, a strand of sweat-soaked silver hair slipped down and stuck to his left eye: "Hmm. It means hello."

Nan Zhou said: "I remember."

With the volatilization of the cider, the effect of the water of life followed, secretly detonating in Nanzhou's body.

Nanzhou leaned on the soft sofa, feeling that she was sinking and sinking.

The high heat turned into a boundless red sea, driving his consciousness, floating and sinking in it.

He rubbed his temples, trying to keep his balance.

Nan Zhou was too dizzy to sit still.

When she found that Nan Zhou's body was sliding down the sofa, the musician wanted to pick it up, but it was too late.

The violin master turned over, inserted one leg between his differential legs in time, and used his toes to pad Nanzhou's back buttocks.

It is to avoid the Nanzhou and the cold ground.

Nanzhou sat cross-legged on his textured and shiny leather toes, as if he had forgotten why he fell here.

The musician stepped back on one leg and squatted to a place that was at 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.

Nanzhou 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 the violinist's face turn into an indescribable crimson again.

He also heard an unintelligible: "...tsk."

Nan Zhou tilted his head, thinking that the luthier denied his proposal.

He was not depressed, turned sideways, intending to be self-reliant, and get up by himself. Whoever wanted to have a soft knee would fall into the arms of the violinist who was about to help him.

The Southern Boat goes forward and the musician goes 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 grabbed the hands that the piano master had just stretched out to him, like a boiled sugar man, sticking to the person without any bones.

The violin master stared at his red cheeks that were close at hand, his hands were held high above his head by Nan Zhou.

Nan Zhou was also watching him, and carefully observed the strange 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 a reproductive urge to you."

Nan Zhou's tone was a little fascinated by distress and misunderstanding, and the sincerity made the piano player stunned for a long time before he understood what he was talking about.

The luthier was at a loss for words: "...why?"

"You are special."

Nanzhou takes every question of the musician seriously: "You will be delicious."

"You will talk to me and not be afraid of me."

"You were the first to take me out."

"I had a slight genital urge for you when I saw you on the balcony. 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 every reason of Nanzhou.

He pondered for a moment, then muttered with a laugh: "This is... very dangerous. It's the same for you and me."

Nan Zhou seemed to understand his concerns very well: "I'm talking about serious things now, and I won't vomit."

Jiang Fang: "I'm not worried about this... well, I'm also quite worried about this."

Nanzhou 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 regretted it immediately.

He should let Nanzhou lie on this cold floor to clear his mind.

Even so, Jiang Fang held onto his waist and patiently said, "It was a good night. Is it?"

Nanzhou nodded dully.

"So, let's not spoil this beauty, okay?"

Meeting Nan Zhou's puzzled eyes, Jiang Fang softened his voice and pushed him away in a coaxing tone.

"It's a fledgling complex, and it can manifest itself in the way...you say, a reproductive impulse, but it's just a reproductive impulse."

"This urge is not real and 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 young, many things in the world, many people, I haven't seen enough, and I haven't played enough, so I will work hard, be alone, and live."

"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 stunned, there was no sadness on his face, just a little confused, Jiang Fang felt more at ease.

Even he didn't know where his "fear of him being sad" came from.

He said: "Nanzhou, let's not stay here. I'll take you out to sober up, okay?"

…

The temperature difference between day and night in "Paper Gold" is not small, and it is much cooler at night.

The wind is blowing.

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 I stumbled and could only be led by the luthier, at least I could walk by myself.

They passed a van delivering desserts.

Three or four NPCs in tooling are unloading goods.

When they walked by, countless silvery and fine particles were suddenly blown into the air in an instant, and snow sleet surrounded them.

Thousands of trees, pears bloom.

The air was filled with a faint scent of sugar.

Nanzhou: "Ah, snow."

"It's not snow," said the luthier. "It's an easter egg from a movie many years ago. The game designers combined this scene with 'paper gold'. As long as two people pass by the dessert delivery together The truck, it is possible to trigger the 'Sugar Snow' plot."

Nanzhou picked up the "snow" by hand.

The "snow" that blew on his palm didn't have the hexagonal shape of snow, just a thin bit of frost, which quickly melted and dissipated under the palm temperature.

The luthier: "That movie fits the atmosphere of the city very well."

"I can show you when I'm free in the future..."

"I see."

Nan Zhou suddenly interrupted the musician.

His mind is very slow, and he has been stuck in the bar so far, so he has no time to digest the story.

Nan Zhou turned her head and faced the piano master in the snow.

He looked 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, he instantly struck a large crack on the mental fence that Jiang Fang had built with his own hands.

Jiang Fang can resist those intimate and ambiguous actions, but she can'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...not bad either.

Jiang Fang's real body reaction forced him to forget everything he just said.

He's not as dashing as he says.

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 extra dependent on himself because of his lack of understanding of the outside world.

It was silently clamoring for the noun that Jiang Fang feared but had never encountered before.

He unknowingly bullied Nan Zhou in the icy snow.

For a moment, Jiang Fang wanted to try it with Nanzhou, who was in the frosting and watching him seriously.

Even if it means he's going to step into a frenzy.

I found that Jiang Fang was approaching him, and Nan Zhou just stood there and let him move.

Drunkenness turned him into a docile animal with little vigilance.

…

However, when the distance between the lips of the two was only half an inch, Nan Zhou stopped.

He lowered his gaze and landed on the gap between the legs 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 room 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... grinning wolf head.

The author has something to say:

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