At the age of sixteen, Chiyang left the orphanage with his sweetheart Lu Qingze.
At the age of nineteen, Chiyang fell from a building and died.
When he woke up again, he found himself in a strange house.
Not standing, but floating.
The candlelight flickered in and out. Through the faint light, Chiyang saw the black and white photo on the mahogany table.
That's himself.
In front of the black-and-white photo, a few inches of incense exudes a faint white smoke, a pile full of integrated gems, black and yellow engraved car keys, and a pile of real estate certificates...
Someone is using these to worship him.
Chiyang was stunned.
Behind him, footsteps suddenly sounded, approaching, and a pair of hands held his waist from behind.
His shoulders sank, and his warm breath spread across his neck, bringing warmth to his cold skin.
Chiyang was shocked.
He couldn't break free!
"Who... Are you?"
"Lu Qingze."
…
What should you do after becoming a ghost?
Chiyang doesn't know either.
Being brought back to the mansion in a daze, he listened to Zhu Ma's story about the past years in confusion.
It turns out that ten years have passed.
The thin and poor boy at the beginning has become the president of a well-known group in City A.
He is worth hundreds of billions of dollars.
Chiyang looked at him.
It's obviously the same face, but the deep and sharp eyebrows have obviously softened and stretched.
The cold black eyes in the memory are now curved, and there is a layer of tenderness under them, clearly reflecting his appearance.
He blinked and tilted his head.
"So... Do you really want to raise me?"
Lu Qingze held him on his lap and sat down, squeezing the delicate but cold back of his neck with his fingers.
The palm of your hand covers almost the entire skin.
"Of course."
"Aren't you afraid of me? I'm a ghost now."
"Not afraid."
The man looked at him, with a slight curve on his lips.
Holding his hand, she pressed her forehead against the cold, white fingers, and instantly the cold emotion in her eyes disappeared.
The gentle voice is addictive.
"You are my Xiaochi."
It was me who finally got her back by hook or by crook.
…
Small theater:
Being taken into the bathroom to take a bath together again, Chiyang felt deeply that he could no longer be so soft-hearted.
So he stepped on the man's naked and muscular chest.
"Lu Qingze! Don't go too far!"
The man who was lazily leaning on the edge of the bathtub glanced down and raised his sharp eyebrows.
A few seconds later.
The man grabbed his ankle and pulled him into the water.
The sound of the water is ambiguous, the bodies are touching each other without any gap, and the gentle voice is dangerous.
"Xiaochi, be good."
Intention: Remember me, remember you
