Intergalactic Era of Gossip

Naryn coughed nonchalantly: "Thank you."

Sells was curious: "This is..."

"It's nothing!" Naryn was on guard. "A wounded friend asked me to buy this. Do you see, do I look like a sick person?"

Sells shook his head: "It's not like."

Naryn breathed a sigh of relief.

"But what you just said..."

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

This time it was Sells' turn to be silent.

Naryn touched the stubble, and thought in his heart: He is just a big stubble and greasy man now, even if he is embarrassed, it has nothing to do with Narren Charvey. In extraordinary times, it is inevitable to swallow your anger; the prerequisite for creating chaos is not to get yourself in.

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

Before he came to remember to export the word "go", Sells interrupted him aloud: "There are many medicated baths in the hot spring club, and the healing effect is good. Maybe you can let your friends try it?"

Naryn waved his hand: "It's not going to stop it."

Sells: "There is also a medicated bath bag. This is more convenient. Take it home and put it in the bathtub for a while."

Naron shook his head desperately.

Sells looked suspicious: "If you really are a friend, don't you want him to heal faster?"

Naron wiped his tears: "Poverty makes me sensible."

Sells: "..."

"Hey!"

On the side, the young dramatist who had been robbed for a long time finally couldn't hold back. He rushed and got stuck in between the two of them. First he glared at Narren, then turned his head and put on an expression of grief, and said, "Sales, you should be responsible to me."

The Imperial Marshal pondered for a moment and asked: "You are?"

The boy suddenly had an expression of "fuck you, scumbag," and he pulled his clothes, revealing a large red mark on his collarbone.

Narren: "..." This is really dedicated.

—It seems that Levitra has to wrap him a big red envelope.

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

The boy gave a bleak smile, "I thought you would despise me and regret it, so I didn't dare to face you when I woke up in the morning."

As soon as the conversation turned, his dark eyes gleamed: "But then, I saw that you were looking for me! I plucked up the courage to come here, but you became so cold..."

Sells: "Wait..."

The boy said excitedly: "No! You tell me first, why did you deny everything that happened that night?"

Sells was silent.

Naryn moved quietly and tried to stay away from the Shura Field, but his wrist hurt and he was caught. And the instigator, the Marshal Marshal who was forced to confront the dramatist, was looking straight ahead with a calm face, as if it was not him who reached out to hold people at this moment.

Naryn: "..."

Why do you want to pull him up when you are in a play? !

He is just an innocent passerby.

The boy's eyes fell on the two clenched hands, his eyes were a little dazed, and he pointed to: "You are..."

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

Sells: "Where did you go? Denial?"

The young man nodded, opened his mouth, did not utter a word for a long time, his expression was particularly helpless.

"I, uh, I..."

Naryn: "..." Is this a forgotten word? Nima, this is forgotten words!

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

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

Naryn's body stiffened, and his eyes began to empty.

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

Naren glared at the young man: Don’t add drama to others indiscriminately, don’t you know that it’s easy to get rid of it!

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

Naryn reacted for a long time, only to realize that Sells was looking at the question he was asking. He blinked, a little dazed-why, why did he suddenly ask?

Sells reminded: "Still heartbroken about this?"

Naryn raised his face solemnly: "..." Yes, what he said to the freckled man just now seemed to be the script—worn with the imperial marshal's personal affair with a minor boy, and also saw the marshal's irresponsible use of money Dismissed the teenager.

So how long did Sells eavesdrop behind him?

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

Sells thoughtfully: "Don't you know him?"

The boy gave Naron a disgusting look: "Why should I know him?"

Narren: "..." I'm your teammate, a great dramatist.

Sells gave a meaningful "Oh", and the ending sounded upward, very intriguing.

"Since you remember everything, which of my arms has a birthmark?"

Naryn frowned, if he remembers correctly...

"Neither of them have birthmarks!" Questions like this kind of bluffing are already outdated. The boy gave the answer categorically, adding: "Your two arms have no marks."

Alas...Naren closed his eyes and couldn't bear to watch the next development.

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

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

"Andre, put this impostor in custody." This farce has been going on for a long time, and Sells put down his sleeves and felt it was time to end.

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

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

Sells asked, "What about you?" His dark eyes stared at Naryn, with a cold and compelling aura.

Naryn felt that if there were fatal loopholes in his answer, the consequences would be terrible. The point is that he can't even run, and Sells is still clutching his wrist.

After looking at each other for a while, he slowly suffocated an expression of humiliation.

"Yes, as I said before, I admire you, follow you, adore you... The reason why I use bad lies to discredit you is that I just hope that fewer people like you, and fewer, until everyone No longer vying with me for your gaze... Forgive my self-righteousness, Marshal, no one cares about you more than I do, and I also hate such a self who will only cause you trouble."

Naren knew exactly what he looked like now—the hair was strong, greasy and sloppy, and with this nasty confession, he believed that Sells would soon be tempted to throw him away.

This is just a strategic weakness. The big man can bend and stretch, and when the time comes, he will remove the stubble and wig, and he will be the high-ranking Prince Charles. Who will Thomas remember him!