MTL - The Husky and His White Cat Shizun-Chapter 59 This seat has only a little bit of interest.

No way, even if the younger brother Auntie Auntie, the departure is still issued, Yumin took them all the way to the east, to the Yangtze River port, called a vessel that can sail on their own, escorting the enchantment and releasing the boat.

This night, the first time I got rid of the Master and the other side with the teacher, it is strange that it is not as exciting as I expected.

Both Xue Meng and Xia Si have already slept, and the ink burns on the deck alone, with their arms resting behind their heads and watching the stars.

The teacher came out of the cabin, took some fish and asked the fishermen to buy, and sat next to the ink-burning side. The two men chatted while holding the small fish.

"A fire, let's go to the peach blossom source, we may not be able to go to Lingshan on the sword, I don't care, but you and the Lord are very powerful people, lost the opportunity to show up, you do not regret?"

The ink burned his head and smiled. "What is there? What is famous is nothing. I have learned the ability to go to Taohuayuan and protect important people. That is more important than anything else."

The teacher looked at his eyes and said, "You can think like this, the master knows, and will be very happy."

"What about you? Are you happy?"

"Of course I am happy too."

The waves beat the boat and the canoe bumped on the sea.

The ink side lie down and watched for a while, trying to dial a few words, but I don't know how to open it. In his eyes, the teacher is really out of nowhere.

Perhaps it is because it is too pure, and the sinister thoughts that will be born when the night is late, will not be easily owned when facing the teacher.

The ink burned for a while.

The teacher realized that he was watching himself, so he turned his head and smacked the long hair that was blown by the sea breeze to his ear. He smiled slightly: "What?"

The ink burned red and turned: "Nothing."

He originally thought about the opportunity to come out this time, and carefully and confessed. But when I talked to my mouth several times, I couldn’t open my mouth.

Confession.

and then?

In the face of such a clean, gentle and gentle person, the ink can not be violent, not strong, afraid of being rejected, even if accepted, I am afraid I do not know how to get along with the teacher.

After all, in the past life, and the short-term love of the teacher, he also really handled it very badly... except for the relatives who were in the ghost ceremonies, he did not even kiss the people.

Not to mention the things that have gone through this life. He is even uncertain when the person in the illusion is actually Chu Ningning or a teacher.

The teacher still smiled: "But you, there seems to be something to say to me."

The smoldering heart is hot, and for a moment it seems to want to smash the window paper.

But I don't know why, suddenly flashed a white figure in front of me, my face is clear, not very funny, always lonely, very lonely.

Suddenly the throat was blocked and I couldn’t speak anymore.

The ink burned and turned, staring at the starry night sky.

After a long while, he silently said: "Yes, you are really important to me."

"Yeah. I know, you are also to me."

The ink burned and said: "Do you know? I had a nightmare before, in the dream you... you are gone, I am very sad."

The teacher smiled: "You are stupid."

Ink burning: "...I will protect you."

"Well, I thanked my good teacher first."

In the burning heart, I couldn’t help but say: "I..."

The teacher asked softly: "What else do you want to say?"

The sound of the waves seemed so loud, and the boat was bumpy. The teacher looked at him quietly and seemed to be waiting for him to say the last sentence.

But the ink burned and closed his eyes: "Nothing. Cool at night, go back to sleep in the cabin."

"..." The teacher calmed for a while and asked, "What about you?"

The smoldering is sometimes stupid: "I... watch the stars and blow the air."

The teacher did not move. After a while, he smiled: "Okay, then I will leave. You will rest earlier."

Turned around.

Walking in the sea, the sky is high and wide.

The guy lying on the deck didn't know what he had missed. He was actually a little absent-minded. He was trying to dig into the true feelings in his heart. He pondered for a long time because it was too lacking in roots. When he was white, he still didn't think about it.

He lived with the teacher and his wife, and his feelings were deep. When he thought that the two were alone, they would be eager to express their enthusiasm with the teacher. But when they arrived at the bridge, they found that it was not. About myself is still too bad. At this time, I rushed to confess with the teacher, and I will definitely scare each other. Even if I am not scared, I can’t talk about this feeling.

Between the teacher and the teacher, he seems to be more accustomed to such awkwardness. Sometimes I miss my heart, seemingly inadvertently holding the other hand, the gentleness in the chest is like a honey.

This feeling is very natural, he actually does not want to break immediately.

Very late, he returned to the cabin and everyone was already asleep. The ink burned back on the banquet, watching the night outside the narrow skylight, and slowly appeared in front of the eyes of Chu, and sometimes closed his eyes, sometimes sharp and sharp.

Of course, the ink burned also remembered that the person curled up and slept, docile and lonely, like a spring bathing jellyfish because it was too high.

Without hatred, the entanglement between Chu and his past lives is deeper than everyone in this world.

He took many first-times from Chu Ningning, regardless of whether the other party is willing or not.

For example, the first kiss, the first time to cook, the first tears.

There is also the first night of Chu Xiaoning.

To die, when he thinks about this, he will be hot and the blood will rush down.

In contrast, he also gave Chu late to some of his first time, regardless of whether the other party wants or not.

For example, the first time to apprentice, the first time to swear, the first gift.

For the first time, I was disappointed with one person.

And, for the first time, tempted.

Yes, first time tempted.

He came to life and death, the first person to look at is not a teacher, but a late night.

Under the sea otter tree that day, the white youth was so focused on the beauty that at first glance, the smoldering felt that except for this person, whoever came to be his master, he did not.

But which one is from, what has changed?

When did it start, the person he cares for became a teacher, and the person who hated became a teacher...

He thought about it carefully in the past few months, and then he felt that it should be after that misunderstanding.

It was the first time that he was beaten by Liu, and the fifteen-year-old boy returned to the dormitory with a scar. He was curled up on the bed alone, his throat was sobbing, and his eyes were wet red. The wound on the back is the second. The most sad thing for him is the cold and cold look of the teacher. It is like a beating of a dog who has lost his family. He has never been half-hearted and soft.

He was stealing the jellyfish from the medicine pot, but he did not know how much the sea otter cherished the value of the sea otter. He did not know how much effort Mrs. Wang spent, waiting for five years before he hoped for a full bloom.

He only knew that he returned from the moon and the night, and saw a glimpse of whiteness on the branches.

The petals are cold and the fragrant Philippine is light.

He looked up for a moment and remembered his master. At that moment, my heart did not know why there was an inexplicable incitement. It seemed that even the fingertips could not help but be slightly hot. Unsuccessful reaction, he has carefully folded the flowers, and the movement is gentle, for fear of touching even a drop of dew on the petals.

Through the thick lashes, he stared at the moonlit night in the moonlight. He didn't know, at that moment, the tenderness and tenderness he left for Chu Lingning was so pure, in the next ten years, Twenty years, until death, there will be no more.

The flower has not been given to the master, and it was met by Xue Meng who just happened to take medicine for her mother.

The young master angered him and sent him to the front of the master. Chu nightning turned his head back and heard the cold and sharp eyes. He passed the ink-burning face and asked him what to argue.

The ink burned: "I fold flowers, I want to give it."

He still holds the spring bathing sea otter in his hand, condensing the frost, and can't tell the cold and charming.

However, Chu nightning's eyes were too cold, and the lava-like heat in his chest was cold, and it cooled down one foot and one inch.

The word "you" can no longer be said.

That feeling, he is too familiar with him, before he is not dying, in his short, thin body, between the music and the enthusiasm, he spends every day in such a look - -

That kind of contempt, that kind of inferior...

The ink burned suddenly a chill, shuddering.

Is it true that the teacher respects him?

In the face of the cold and cold question of Chu Yuning, the burning of the ink only felt that the heart was cold. He bowed his head and said: "...I...have nothing to say."

The end is a foregone conclusion.

Just because of this sea otter, Chu nightning hit him forty vines. It was broken when the first hit to the burning of the ink.

But if at the time, Mo was burning to explain more, if Chu, would rather ask more questions, then everything would be different. This may not be the first step for the masters and apprentices.

However, there is not so much if.

And at this node, the warmth is like a teacher, appearing beside him.

After returning from the night of Chu, he did not go to eat. He was lying on the bed and did not light up.

The teacher slammed the door in and saw what it was like in the darkness. He put the red dragon in the hand and put it on the table, then went to the bed and whispered in a soft voice: "A burning?"

When the ink burned, he did not feel deeply rooted in the teacher. He did not return his head. The blood-filled eyes were still staring at the wall, and the voice was hoarse and heavy.

"Go out."

"I am here to send you..."

"You give me out."

"A burning, don't do this."

"..."

"The temper of Master is not good. If you get used to it, it will be nothing. You can get up and eat something."

The ink burns like a donkey that ten horses can't drag back.

"Don't eat, I am not hungry."

"...A good pad is a padded stomach. If you don't eat it, the master knows that it will be born--" The gas is too late to say it, and the ink burns up and sits up. The eyes with water vapor are wronged and angry. The eyelashes trembled slightly.

"Is angry? What kind of gas does he have? The mouth grows on my own face. What does it matter if he doesn't eat anything? In fact, he doesn't want me to be an apprentice at all. I am starving to death. I am starving to the teacher. Respect the peace of mind, so that his old man is happy."

Teacher: "........."

If he didn't expect himself, he would touch the pain of the burning of the ink. He was a little confused at the moment. I only looked at the little teacher in front of me.

After a long time, the mood of the burning of the ink was a little slow, he lowered his head, and his face was long and falling, covering half of his face.

Ink burning: "...sorry."

The teacher couldn't see his face, only to see his shoulders tremble with trepidation, pinch into a fist, and the back of the hand was light blue.

After all, the fifteen-year-old boy was still too childish. He endured for a while, and finally couldn’t help himself, sitting squatting and crying with his knees. The sound is broken and hoarse, intermittent, with madness and confusion, pain and sorrow.

He burst into tears and burst into tears, and his mouth turned over and over again, just a few words -

"I just want to have a home... I have really been here for fifteen years... I really just want to have a home... Why should I look down on me... Why should I look at me like this... Why do you look down on why? I……"

He cried for a long time, and the teacher stayed with him for a long time.

When the ink burned enough, the teacher handed him a white handkerchief, and then he came to the already cold red oil.

Shi Yan Wen said: "Don't say anything like starvation and not starvation. If you go back to life and death, worship under the teacher's door, you are my younger brother. I also have no parents since I was young. If you want, Just treat me as a family. Come and eat."

"..."

"This is my bag, you don't even appreciate the face, you have to reward my face, right?" The teacher bent his mouth slightly, licking a crystal full copy of the hand, handed to the burning lips Side, "Take a bite."

The ink-burning eyes were still red, and the eyes full of water vapor, looking at the people at the bed, finally let go of the mouth, and the gentle boy fed the food.

In fact, the bowl of hand-cranked has been cool, but also dip over the head, missed the best time to eat.

But at that moment, in the candlelight, it was the food that the bowl of cockroaches sent, accompanied by the glory of the wind, the gentle face of the eyes, inscribed in the moment. After his death, he will never forget.

It probably started from that night.

He is more and more deeply hated by the teacher, and it is from that day that he believes that the teacher is the most important person in his life.

After all, people are greedy and warm.

Especially the funeral dog that is dying, seeing the salt will tremble, fearing that the snow falls, fearing the winter is approaching.

Stepping Xianjun looks beautiful, but only he knows it.

In fact, he is really, but it is a stray wild dog. This wild dog has been looking for a place where he can be huddled, a place that can be called "home", but he has been looking for fifteen years, how can he find it? Not enough.

Therefore, his love and hate becomes very simple and ridiculous -

Someone gave him a stick and he hated it.

Someone gave him a bowl of broth and he fell in love.

Only a little bit of interest.