The Fascinated I Only Want Salted Fish

Chapter 33:

The more Ming Ci knelt beside the bed, just like every day and night who kept vigil for him, he was modest and decent, his upper body was straight as loose, and he didn’t show the slightest rush of embarrassment.

But Ji Zheng couldn’t accept this kind of thing.

It was the first time for this body in both the previous life and this life.

The first time I was poisoned like this, the first time my body and desires were out of my control, the first time this happened with another person… this kind of muddy, messy, dirty thing.

Unluckily, he had to call this person, “Uncle Huang…”

The young Qingzhi’s voice whirled, and the tail sound dragged long down feathers, immersed in the wet cry, and it was hard to hear.

Where is the uncle detoxifying him, this is obviously adding a fire. Those pecks and kisses are dense and dense, like a light rain, hitting the tip of every small branch with no light or heavy.

Ji Zheng’s eyes widened in a daze, he subconsciously grabbed the uncle and wanted him to let go. But Uncle Huang seemed to be wrong, and suddenly approached him under the pressure of that hand.

“Dirty…” Mosquito’s voice was weak.

He didn’t understand, how could a person with such a clean, chaste and immaculate nature be able to kneel down and do this kind of shit.

It was all forced by him, forced by him with imperial power, and forced to drag Mingyue from the sky into the quagmire, degenerating and sinking.

He really is a good and bad emperor.

Even his own guards, princes, and uncles refused to let go.

It’s snowing outside, and it’s snowing inside.

Ji Zheng’s forearm lay across his eyes, he didn’t say a word, he just cried.

He didn’t dare to lower his head to look in front of Ming Ciyue, he just tried his best to bite his lower lip, trying to use pain to numb such a filthy self, to dilute the physical pleasure and shame in his brain, impulse and humiliation. endure.

Someone forcibly broke his teeth.

Suddenly, there was a small cat’s cry from the couch, and the end sound was slightly raised.

Ji Zheng cried even more, she was out of breath, burping while crying.

“Don’t bite your lip.”

The more Mingci left, he coughed a few times uncontrollably and took a deep breath, his voice was so hoarse that he could hardly make a sound, “Your Majesty… Did this minister hurt you?”

Ji Zheng shook his head sharply.

“Is the minister serving poorly?”

Ji Zheng shook his head halfway, recovered, removed the arm resting on his eyes, couldn’t hold back his breath, burped twice, red and swollen eyes, nodded slightly, and shook his head again.

This kind of broken question, nodding and shaking his head is not right.

As a male, no one can suppress their nature and refuse such a thing, and let the future emperor kneel and bow his head, which can almost make everyone’s sense of conquest and satisfaction reach the threshold.

The sense of pleasure spreads around like a small electric current, and it seems like ten thousand ants are eating bones. He doesn’t want to let the uncle leave like this, and wants to greedily ask the kneeling person for more…

Ji Zheng couldn’t say a word, only wet and hazy eyes, sobbing and bowing his head and looking at Ming Ci more and more.

“What are you looking at… hiccup… no, no staring at me!”

half an hour.

“I understand.” Ming Ciyue’s face darkened slightly, and he stood up pretending to be depressed, “This minister is a saint to call the maid of the Gu residence. It’s really not possible to pass the imperial doctor from the palace, even the palace maids.”

As soon as he turned around, he felt that his slightly damp thumb was tightly grasped.

The little emperor said tremblingly: “I don’t want anyone else, I can’t want anyone else.”

The little emperor looked so pitiful. He was wrapped in a soft quilt, revealing half of his snow-white arms. The red, green, and blue were all the pinch marks he had branded himself. When he cried, his slender neck trembled in the cold air. trembling.

The whole body was not wet, sweat, tears, and various turbid liquids had wet the person from the inside out.

Mingci rolled his throat and asked him, “I can’t, or I don’t want it.”

He noticed a trace of panic flashing in the emperor’s eyes, and heard the man whispering: “If you want, you can only want, Uncle… How can I sully the protagonist like this?!”

Ming Ci hooked his lower lip more happily. He couldn’t hear the Son of Heaven’s verbal reply, so he pulled his thumb out of his hand little by little, “The only thing the Holy Master is a minister is the antidote?”

He rubbed the side of his leg intentionally and unintentionally, and left at the touch of a button, “The sage just wants the minister to stay because it hasn’t been resolved yet?”

Ji Zheng was speechless, what he is doing now is exactly like this, and he can’t quibble.

“What you want, I will reward you, official position, military power, money… I can give you whatever I can give.” Even the compensation seemed a little weak.

But Uncle Huang paused, his expression froze, his eyes flickered, as if he had agreed to the deal, he sighed lightly, “It was the minister who voluntarily used it for the saint, don’t blame the saint.”

He half-kneeled to his original position and suppressed his voice, “After tonight, I hope the Holy One can still remember.”

Just as he was about to open his lips, Ji Zheng pulled him and Nuonuo said, “I don’t want to be on this bed, it’s dirty.” He didn’t like Gu Congyun’s bed.

“I know it.”

Ming Ciyue lifted him out of the warm bed, looked around, put him on the painting and calligraphy table in front of the window, and leaned his back against the window.

The left and right are full of paper with ink, but he is a bit different in white, but he will be embellished with various colors soon.

“Has the sage ever tried to cure himself?”

Mingci asked him with a calm but serious expression, as if a real doctor was asking questions, but Ji Zheng knew that this was just asking him if he had tried it himself…

Ji Zheng didn’t, at least he didn’t try it with this body. There were servants everywhere in the palace, so he couldn’t be so ashamed in front of others.

However, out of the dignity of a man, Ji Zheng looked directly at him and nodded, thinking: “Uncle Huang can’t see this kind of thing anyway.”

“Try to show it to the minister.”

“…what?”

“Only by knowing where the crux is, can the minister be able to prescribe the right medicine.”

The more Ming Ci was looking at him, he looked at him with a serious face and well-dressed, and he acted extremely rudely, treating himself as a cold object.

…

Ming Ci sucked in a sharp breath, pinching his fingertips into his palm, trying to look away.

He is not a gentleman and a saint, he has countless plans, from beginning to end, the only purpose is to hunt, possess, and occupy from the inside to the outside.

The purpose of forbearance for a short time now is nothing more than this.

Ming Ci Yue just heard it, the Sage has never tried it, it is better to give him the feeling of supremacy, so that he will linger and miss himself from this matter, as long as he can accompany the Sage, even if it is only a tool.

“Forget it, this matter is tarnishing the dragon’s body.” Ming Ci grabbed his moving hand more and more violently, “This time the minister will teach the sage, please allow the minister to do the work for the sage in the future.”

Ji Zheng didn’t have time to think about it, but Ming Ci Yue took his hand and landed on the flawless and transparent drawing paper. He gently stroked, paused, picked, hidden, and retracted. The priorities of the strokes changed back and forth. The pens use the fine sheep hair on the nib to touch and scratch the paper lightly, playing with the paper. The paper is wrinkled, full of mottled wrinkles, soaked with ink from the inside to the outside, torn and stained…

Ji Zheng was trapped tightly in the small space between the man and the window. With the movement, the wooden window rail behind him was pressed and swayed back and forth.

The air was quiet, and the blushing squeak kept making him restless.

…

The cold sweat on Ji Zheng’s entire back wetted the window paper, and engraved an entire human figure with ambiguous curves on it. He turned around and looked through the tissue paper with his eyes covered in fog. Thin fine white snowflakes.

Ming Ci suddenly released his hand, Ji Zheng’s curled toes suddenly loosened, his heart was empty, he was tossed and lost his mind, he couldn’t make up his mind, he was only a little short, and subconsciously called out several times, “Uncle Huang?”

Ming Ciyue stuck to his side and asked softly, “Your Highness… what is the protagonist?”

Ji Zheng couldn’t think about why Ming Ciyue knew the protagonist at all, and replied indiscriminately: “The protagonist is the one who appears the most in the storybook, the birthright on the stage.”

“Then the saint is the protagonist.”

Ji Zheng shook his head in confusion, “No, you don’t know, you…”

The more Ming Ci suddenly stimulated it, “But only the protagonist can bully others like this.”

Ji Zheng lost his strength instantly, only the buzzing and hot breath left in his ears, he leaned softly on the shoulders of the person in front of him, nodded randomly, and sobbed silently.

“The sage is the protagonist of the minister.” Ming Ciyue seemed to finally feel relieved, and he was willing to wrap Ji Zheng’s hand kindly, and came slowly.

…

The last cat meow was lingering and slender, and Ming Ci Yue helped him prolong it in silence, waiting patiently until everything was over.

“Holy? Do you still remember your promise?”

The little man leaned on the window rail with his eyes closed, but the more Mingci could hear his hot and powerful heartbeat, he didn’t care much, thinking that it was just the first time he couldn’t bear it and fell into a coma.

Wake up the next day, the emperor will not remember tonight.

Therefore, Ming Ci didn’t even think about it, he kissed like a vent, the kiss was urgent and messy, and completely tore the outer shell of a gentleman. But it was always soft like a ball of cotton in it, and he didn’t dare to use any extra effort.

Ming Ci has endured for too long, been dormant for too long, and made so many plans, but he never heard a word from Xiao Tianzi that he had feelings for him. Have a thought that shouldn’t be there.

Unlike myself, dirty and filthy, I don’t know when, I can no longer take the saint as a nephew, and I only want to let this person crawl under the ground and listen to him let out a sobbing sound that makes me happy.

If the emperor hadn’t drank Gu Congyun’s medicine by coincidence, and if he hadn’t kept Hu Zhizi with him, I’m afraid this night would never have happened.

But he is not satisfied at all. He wants the emperor to find him actively. It is best to stay away from him day and night, grab the horn of his robe, force him to stay overnight, and imprison him in the Yanfu Palace. Inside the hall.

Thinking of putting on the disgusting gentleman’s shell again the next morning, Ming Ci raised his eyes slightly, looked at the delicate jade-like face in front of him, lowered his brows, and got closer.

“Sir?” He suddenly felt that the temperature of his lips was not right, he raised his hand and tried the emperor’s forehead, “You have a fever, why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

The emperor hummed a few times in a low voice, half asleep, “Don’t look for someone else, you can’t find someone else.”

Of course, you can’t find someone else. In this scene, only the emperor would be so foolish as to think that he was bullying and using others to vent his fire, and anyone with a discerning eye would know that it was he who tainted and tossed the saint.

Ming Ciyue took the emperor off the table, put it back on the bed, covered the quilt, and went outside to get hot water for him to wash and cool down.

When he entered the door again, he had just lifted the curtain when he heard a low voice from the bed, half angry and half angry.

“Why on earth do you know my heart?”

With a snap, the bucket fell to the ground, and Gollum made a circle.

The author has something to say: I tried my best to change it, “…” Then, bosses can read the author’s column?