25 : Incredibly sour

 

Yin Luo's first reaction was that his neck was itchy.

Something warm was pressed against it, and hot breath and slightly prickly hair brushed against his skin.

He spoke with difficulty, his voice trembling, carrying a sweet fragrance: "It's...it's so uncomfortable..."

The man who had lost control finally stopped.

His cold face became restrained, as if he was suppressing something, yet also involuntarily succumbing to it.

Duan Muze gently put the boy down, without backing away, maintaining the original distance. In this way, their posture was incredibly ambiguous, almost overlapping.

The man used his tall body to block the light, enveloping the person inside in his shadow.

He could see Yin Luo leaning weakly against the wall, his cheeks soaked with tears he had just shed.

His eyes were deep red, and there were two light-colored marks on his neck.

After Yin Luo regained some clarity,

"Are you alright? You forgot your lines just now." Duan Muze even accused him first.

Yin Luo looked at him with trembling eyelashes wet with tears, his pupils dilating in surprise. Then, realizing he really hadn't said his lines, he slowly apologized, "...I'm sorry."

Duan Muze felt a slight pang of conscience: "I forgot too."

Yin Luo didn't speak.

It wasn't that he didn't want to speak, but he didn't know what his voice would sound like if he opened his mouth.

Because Duan Muze had just rubbed against his neck, the symptoms of the allergy medication were coming on fiercely. It

was very uncomfortable, and his skin trembled at the slightest touch.

Moreover, at this moment, he especially wanted to be close to Duan Muze.

Seeing Yin Luo's lowered eyelashes and silence, Duan Muze thought he was angry and felt uneasy, but he remained calm on the surface and said, "How about we rest a little longer... What would you like to drink?"

As soon as he finished speaking, he felt Yin Luo grab his hand, his shoulder twitched, and then he heard the boy say in a nasal, coquettish voice, "Let's act it out again, okay?"

"Just once, this time I'll remember the lines."

His voice was becoming urgent, like a plea.

Duan Muze had obviously lost the ability to think, and without any hesitation, he picked Yin Luo up again.

There were more finger marks on his inner thighs.

This time, he didn't lift Yinluo to eye level, but lowered himself slightly, leaning down to look at him. His

eyes upturned corners, resembled a little fox's,

tempting one to kiss them .

A cold breath swept over him, completely invading him. Yinluo instantly lost all strength, his mind only wanting to cling to Duan Muze. Forget the lines, he even pressed himself against Duan Muze's bare skin as soon as he was held.

Duan Muze's skin was very warm, and Yinluo felt a little disgusted, but the touch relieved his symptoms, so he had to separate after a while.

It turned into rubbing back and forth.

His face was wet, whether from tears or fine sweat, soft and damp, mixed with a rich fragrance. Duan Muze's whole body stiffened, and he looked down at Yinluo.

Beautiful and delicate.

His innocent expression was mixed with a hint of languid absentmindedness.

Pure yet alluring, his face flushed red.

This was terrible.

Yinluo kept rubbing against Duan Muze's neck, while simultaneously feeling the other gently biting his shoulder. It was very itchy, and the hot breath made him shift uncomfortably.

But the other side of his neck, the one that hadn't been touched, was even more uncomfortable; it felt empty, and even the slightest movement of air made him shiver.

Yinluo then slightly loosened her grip on Duan Muze, her voice a sticky, tearful sob: "...This side too."

At that moment, the taut string in Duan Muze's mind seemed to snap.

*

When Yinluo came to his senses, he found himself sitting in a chair.

The aftereffects of the allergy medication had completely disappeared; he didn't want anyone to apply it again, but his neck still hurt a little.

His ankle was suddenly grabbed, and Yinluo jumped in fright, instinctively kicking out.

The kick was delivered with all his might, and Duan Muze groaned. He was still holding Yinluo's shoe in his hand, looking up. The other person guiltily looked away, his face fierce: "...Who told you to touch me like that? It's all your fault."

But his voice wasn't fierce at all.

Duan Muze's face was cold, but inwardly he wanted to tug at this little rascal's face.

Just moments ago he was clinging to him, wanting to hug and kiss him, but now that he's used him, he's turned his back on him, making him feel like a thirsty tool. He was a little annoyed and asked, "Do you have skin hunger?"

Yin Luo was stunned for a moment: "...What?"

System: [Host, skin hunger is a psychological disorder. Due to a long-term lack of affection, one craves the touch and contact of others.]

System: [Similar to the side effects of desensitizing drugs, but not as pronounced.]

Yin Luo: "..."

Why does that sound a bit like a pervert?

Duan Muze is definitely going to laugh at him.

System: [No, Host! The male lead's favorability rating is already 80! Such a high level of favorability won't easily lead to laughter!]

Yin Luo was completely dumbfounded.

How did his favorability rating suddenly increase so much?

Duan Muze stared at the tear stains on the other person's cheeks that hadn't completely dried, pulled out a tissue and handed it to him: "Wipe your face." Then he squatted down and slowly helped him put on his shoes.

Whether intentionally or not, he gently stroked the small mole on that slender, white ankle.

Sensitive constitution.

Skin hunger.

Just those two things together were enough to attract unscrupulous people.

Duan Muze had been in the industry for three years and had heard a bit about it.

Some wealthy people, seeking thrills and having a variety of experiences, would get tired of women and start eyeing men. They specifically targeted young, naive, handsome boys, training them to become sensitive, and then using them for their pleasure. Someone

like Yin Luo was especially dangerous.

Duan Muze's expression gradually turned serious: "If you have skin hunger, do you still plan to enter the entertainment industry?"

Hearing the term "skin hunger" again, Yin Luo felt extremely ashamed: "I... I only do that occasionally. As for entering the entertainment industry... I don't know yet."

After all, she hadn't even had a chance to enter before going offline.

But why ask these questions?

Yin Luo sensed a hidden meaning in Duan Muze's words and immediately nudged the man with her foot: "Was my acting really bad just now?"

System: [...] It could hardly listen anymore; its host hadn't even memorized her lines.

Duan Muze pondered for a moment: "It was alright."

Yin Luo was taken aback at first, then immediately put on a smug little expression: "Right? I also think I'm quite talented."

Duan Muze's lips curled up, his coldness lessening considerably: "But you might still need to learn more. After this role, you can go back to school and take more acting classes." *

Too bad I'm not an acting major*

Yin Luo thought to himself.

Besides, even if he wanted to learn, he wouldn't have the chance. After all, his favorability rating was already 80; once it reached 95, in another six months, he could fake his death and leave this world.

Yin Luo didn't respond to that topic, getting up from his chair: "I'm going to wash my face."

Duan Muze hummed in agreement.

Yin Luo took his coat and phone into the bathroom, nearly startled when he looked in the mirror. His neck... what happened? Mottled marks were scattered everywhere, some even with teeth marks!

Anyway, it looked particularly indecent.

Like he'd been with someone... Yin Luo bit his lip tightly, a surge of anger rising within him. He left the bathroom, ready to confront Duan Muze. But as soon as he opened the door, the man was standing there. He almost bumped into him, but thankfully stopped in time.

When he glared, his eyes would widen, as if he were trying to look fierce, but the watery look in his eyes and the bluish-purple bruises on his neck only made him seem like he was flirting after the fact.

"Did you do all this?"

The aftereffects were like being drunk; her memory was fragmented, and Yinluo couldn't remember what she had done or said. Duan Muze, though unaware of the aftereffects, was aware of this as well.

Therefore, Yinluo wasn't clinging to him because she wanted to be close, but out of physical instinct. As for who that person was, Yinluo didn't care at all.

Maybe it was the roommate who liked to put his arm around his shoulder.

Maybe it was the man in the suit who had been in his hotel room.

Duan Muze's face darkened, and he suddenly chuckled, but his tone was cold: "You seem to not remember very well. Do you want me to tell you?

" "You begged me to do it."

The man's voice was like a devil's whisper, leaving Yinluo completely stunned: "...What?"

"You grabbed my hand, said you wanted to act it out again, then you put your arms around my neck, and wrapped your legs around my waist. " "Duan Muze's expression was cold as he spoke these words, yet unexpectedly tinged with embarrassment. 'You said you were almost out of strength and couldn't hold on anymore.'

Yin Luo's face flushed crimson.

But Duan Muze wouldn't let him go, taking a step forward and continuing, 'You kept rubbing your face against my neck, saying your neck was very uncomfortable and asking me to kiss it there.'

'You also said you wanted the other side too.'

Yin Luo felt like he couldn't breathe.

System notification: [Host, your body temperature is very high, you're showing signs of a fever.]

After a long while, Yin Luo managed to speak with difficulty: [What he... said... was it all true?]

System: [Yes... you did say that to him.]

Yin Luo fell silent, his previous anger vanishing instantly. Now he only slightly parted his lips, biting down hard on his lip.

Duan Muze stared intently,

not intending to let him off the hook even when he was so embarrassed.

He had to make Yin Luo remember this, and teach him a lesson: 'Aren't you going to thank me?'" Yin

Luo looked over in disbelief.

...It seemed he should thank him.

Perhaps too embarrassed and indignant, Yin Luo's reaction was a little slow. Before he could speak, Duan Muze leaned in, his hot breath hitting his ear: "You were squinting your eyes, you looked very comfortable."

Yin Luo: "—!"

He pushed him away forcefully, too shy to say anything: "I...I didn't!"

Duan Muze was about to say something when Yin Luo's phone suddenly rang in his coat. Yin Luo was stunned for a moment, then looked down and took out his phone. It was Lu Ran calling.

Yin Luo steadied his breathing: "Hello."

Lu Ran: "Director Chen said the photos are out, we can take a look first. Are you in your room? I'll bring my tablet to find you."

"Hmm..."

Yin Luo didn't want to stay with Duan Muze anymore. If this continued, the two of them would probably start arguing, and his goodwill might drop. There

was no sound for a while on the other end, as if he had sensed something was wrong: "Did you cry?"

"No...I just washed my face." Yin Luo sniffed, afraid he'd ask something else, and immediately said, "Are you coming or not?"

"Sure, coming right away."

Yin Luo hung up the phone, and then heard Duan Muze speak: "Going back to see your roommate?"

"Didn't you say you weren't that close?"

It sounded calm, but upon closer inspection, it was incredibly sour.

Yin Luo lowered his head and hummed in agreement, feeling that the atmosphere between them wasn't good, but he wanted to leave himself some room for maneuver: "I have to go, let's talk about the script next time."

Duan Muze gave a faint smile, his eyes dark and gloomy: "If it wasn't me just now, but your roommate, would you have hugged him and let him kiss you?"

Yin Luo: "..."

He sounded like a very casual person.

Yin Luo could still feel the coldness emanating from Duan Muze. He felt he should try not to provoke him, so he didn't dare to speak, lowered his head, and turned to open the door.

After the door opened, before he even came out, he heard a male voice outside—

"So you're here." The words

fell as he looked up.

Lu Ran was standing in front of him, his gaze fixed on the mottled neck, a half-smile playing on his lips as he stared at him: "I guess I've come at the wrong time." (

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