Host, You're Targeted

Back to the base after the interview, song Zhiye tidied up his things and went back to the car. Seeing Xu Qingdu sitting alone in the last row, he went over and sat down beside him.

Sensing that someone was approaching, Xu Qingdu turned his head and looked down. Then he saw song Zhiye, who was looking for a seat belt with his head down.

"Were you angry just now?"

Xu Qingdu pulled out the seat belt under his seat and leaned over to buckle the seat belt for song Zhiye.

When Xu Qingdu bent down to fasten the seat belt to song Zhiye, song Zhiye was looking for the safety belt with his head down. This bending of Xu Qingdu directly shortened the distance between the two people. Song Zhiye could touch Xu Qingdu's cheek as long as he moved forward a little bit.

From Song Zhiye's point of view, Xu Qingdu's eyelashes trembled slightly because of drooping eyes, and the dark pupil was completely covered by eyelashes.

Song Zhiye can't help but remember the feeling of his eyelashes brushing his face when he was half forced to kiss his face in the bathroom today.

Soft.

"Not angry." Song Zhiye forced himself to look away from Xu Qingdu. "I just don't like the tone of his question."

"Ah ~"

Xu Qingdu took a deep look at Song Zhiye, who was hard spoken. He looked away from the window with a smile, and continued to look at the fans outside through the curtain gap.

Song Zhiye touched his seat belt around his waist and turned to take a look at Xu Qingdu's side face.

Tut, ah what ah? Do you have to drag the ending so long? Ah, he didn't speak after that. He didn't know what happened to people's curiosity. Isn't that cute?

Song Zhiye was so angry that he leaned on his seat with his chest in his hands and looked ahead to wait for the car to drive.

This morning, song Zhiye got up early for the race, and he was sleepy again within five minutes after the car started.

His hands around his chest gradually loosened, and his left hand slipped down from his thigh and put it on Xu Qingdu's hand on the stool.

Xu Qingdu's sight immediately moved from the window to the carriage and looked down at the hand on the back of his hand.

Song Zhiye's five fingers are long and slender. The palm of his hand looks bigger than his hand. There is a layer of thin cocoon on the fingertip because of his long-term career.

Xu's talent is not to make a good living by hard work.

The sun shone through the curtain gap on the other side of the window and sat down in the empty seat on the other side.

In the carriage, only the hum of the car moving and the whistling sound from outside could be heard. Several people in the front row were doing their own things.

Xu Qingdu propped his hand on the window edge and tilted his head to appreciate song Zhiye's shaking head. The corners of his lips, which had been pursed straight, slowly raised a good-looking curve. The small tiger teeth hidden in the corner of his mouth also appeared.

The car bumped after a speed bump. Song Zhiye, who was just shaking his head from side to side, suddenly nodded forward.

Xu Qingdu laughed, thinking that he would wake up like this, but after his head was back on the seat back, he just hit his mouth a few times, and within a few minutes he started shaking left and right again.

Like a tumbler, no matter how it shakes, it will not fall down, nor will it open its eyes, as if it has been sleeping in the past.

When Xu Qingdu was happy, he took his hand back from the window and sat upright next to the back of the seat. He put song Zhiye's head on his shoulder and patted his head to comfort him: "sleep, sleep, my dear baby."