Host, You're Targeted

The class hasn't started yet, and the teacher hasn't arrived.

Tingyuan kneels down beside the table in front of Yan Huai, helping him to lay paper and brush and help him to grind inkstone.

Tingyuan took a look at the young masters and ladies in other positions and found that there was a schoolboy kneeling beside each table.

But the schoolboys they took were all wearing blue and gray clothes, and each had a bun on his head.

The actions of those schoolchildren were the same. They all bowed their heads and knelt straight. Their wrists would not touch the table when the inkstone was being ground, let alone seeing from left to right like Tingyuan.

Tingyuan looked at others and looked down at himself.

He was dressed in goose yellow clothes, and his hair was just loosely tied with a high ponytail.

And although he was kneeling, he was already sitting on his legs and rubbing ink with his hands on the table.

isn't he very dignified?

In this way, Tingyuan sat up straight, learning from the kneeling schoolboy at a table in front of him, and slowly adjusted his posture.

Yanhuai tidies up the clothes and finds that Tingyuan's eyes are always on others.

"What are you doing? Don't you hurry up

"Yes

Court yuan immediately took back his eyes and straightened his back to grind ink.

Before class, TingYang stands behind Yan Huai with a sword.

He looked at Tingyuan's silly appearance of grinding ink, and sighed silently. In his eyes, he wanted to help himself.

How can the court yuan be so stupid?

Yanhuai looked down at the way Tingyuan was rubbing ink for a while. Suddenly he raised the folding fan on his hand and knocked it lightly on his shoulder.

"If you don't kneel long enough, you can sit on your knees." Yan Huai's fan is on the shoulder of court yuan and presses him down.

Court yuan feet are kneeling numb, was Yanhuai so a press, a buttock sat on his own leg.

Yanhuai took back the folding fan and put it aside. He asked him, "didn't you sit well just now? How can you get down on your knees

Tingyuan took a careful look at him. His big eyes were rolling, which was full of playfulness and liveliness.

"Young master." The court yuan looked around and stood up straight on the edge of the table and approached Yanhuai.

It's a straight line.

He squinted at the court yuan that was leaning towards him.

Tingyuan put his hand to his lips, lowered his voice and said to him, "I see that other people's schoolchildren are sitting upright. I can't disgrace you! I can also do well. "

Tingyuan's voice is no longer a child's voice with a milky nasal sound. As he grows up, his voice is full of the clearness and clearness of young people.

Close to the time, Yan Huai can see his face smart small expression.

"You don't have to." Yanhuai pinched the fan on the edge of the table, picked it up again, and knocked on the head of Tingyuan.

Court yuan covers forehead hair to give a lovely exclamation: "Oh!"

"You are a member of my family. You don't have to be bound by this rule."

Yan Huai twists his wrist and spreads the fan in front of him.

He raised the fan with a simple description of orchids, half covering his cheek, and looked at Tingyuan's hand holding the inkstone.

Court yuan's action is not very skilled, ink splashes out when grinding ink.

Some black ink fell on the white and slender wrist, which made Tingyuan's skin lighter.

"You just need to do your part." Yanhuai closed the fan, "don't care about the restrictions. You're just a schoolboy. You won't follow me to the big scene."