I guess the other person should be your current cousin, Guan Cheng.

- After you return to China, you can restart your acting career at any time, don't worry about your fans forgetting you, your popularity is even higher than you imagined.

Looking at the time interval, after this sentence, a few minutes later, the other party sent out a new message: How are you back? How are you going home?

Leohard looked through the computer screen, as if he saw the man who was as proud as him, his face was nervous, he considered and considered, and finally he couldn't hold back, and carefully typed out this sentence, but the whole person was as fragile as glass, just waiting for the other party to knock him to pieces with a hammer.

This scheming BOY!

Leohard did not hesitate to use all the most vicious language in the world, madly cursing the man on the other end of the network, he only hated himself for not being attentive enough to learn other languages, except for English, he couldn't say a word of swearing.

His thin lips pursed, and unceremoniously, he typed a line of words in: Why can't you stay away from me?

- Take your phone, your WeChat, your Qiuqiu, all your contact information, and disappear from my world!

Well, it's not just his world, it's better to disappear from this world!

Leohard muttered maliciously.

At the other end of the network, Fang Qinghan was slightly stunned, the words that had been typed were deleted by him one after another, and after a while, he replied to the other party with great certainty: You are not Hanhan.

- You're Leohard. Hamilton.

It was like the last straw that broke the camel's back, and the long-pent-up jealousy in my heart finally burned brightly, burning all my sanity away.

Leohard could no longer suppress the violent factor in his heart, and with a sweep of his arm, the latest limited-edition laptop, an antique table lamp from 1883, and a collectible Parker gold pen with more decorative significance than practical significance, all fell to the ground.

Unable to get enough, Leohard stood up, raised his right foot, and stomped wildly on the pile of objects of astonishing value, and his arm was not idle, and wherever his arm slashed, all the items fell and fell into the pile of debris on the ground.

Soon, the whole study room with classical and luxurious decoration was completely in ruins like a storm passing through it.

And no matter how furious his body was, his brain was still running wildly, like an overloaded wire, emitting a burnt smell:

- He trusts her so much?!

- Trust her to never turn him away?!

- Monkey Birth, Childbirth! Ha!

- Why move her Weibo! That's personal belongings, you know? Uncultured bastards!

- Go home?! Her home is here! In the USA!

One after another thoughts surged wildly, each of them was full of negative energy, like arrows, shooting at him frantically, each of them hit the bull's-eye, shooting countless holes in his already scarred heart.

If your heart is broken, you can still put it together, but what should I do if my heart is gone?!

I don't know how long it took, but Leohhard's knees went limp, and he sat down on the ruins he had made, clasping his knees with both hands, and buried his head deeply, and his brilliant blonde hair became dull.

In the depths of his heart, the Duke of Dreamy Dreams woke up from his dream, and he reached out and touched the red velvet cushion under him, and it was cold in his hand, and he could faintly feel the ice ballast on it.

Damn it! What the hell is the main personality doing!

As a noble blood clan duke, he actually has very high requirements for the quality of life, although he sleeps in a coffin, it does not mean that he likes a dark and damp environment, in fact, a high-level blood nobleman sleeps for a very long time, less than a few decades, more than a hundred years, such a long time, enough for him to be covered with moss.

There was once a Taoist priest from the far east who regarded a noble blood earl who had been sleeping for a hundred years as a lowly monster like a green-haired zombie!

God, this is a real disgrace to the Bloodline.

Soon after, the Grand Dukes of the Blood Clan introduced a new regulation for the coffins used by the Blood Clan for the long rest, and the most suitable environmental standards for the noble Blood Clan nobles to sleep - dry, ventilated, temperature 20, humidity 18!

Well, since then, the bodies of the sleeping blood nobles are no longer covered with moss-

They bloomed!

Therefore, a dry, warm environment is the favorite of the blood clan.

Before, I don't know what the main personality has experienced, anyway, the climate in the castle has become more and more NICE, neither cold nor hot, as if the warm spring has been coming, the coffin is very comfortable, he has been drowsy, no dreams, but sleep extra sweet.

If he remained in this state, the Duke thought that he could sleep forever.

Really comfortable.

But now!

What the hell is the master personality doing!

Does this humble human want to freeze to death the noble blood lord?!

The Duke was full of anger, and pushed open the lid of the coffin, but what caught his eyes was a piece of emerald green, he was slightly stunned, and blurted out, "What is this?" ”

The psychiatrist not far away raised his eyes and gave him a simple and straightforward answer: "Obviously, it's grass." ”

Lord Duke's eyes widened, looking at the dense green plants on the coffin lid and all over every corner, and couldn't help but retort: "Of course I know that this is grass, I can see ghosts, how can this thing grow here!" ”

Thinking that when he was sleeping, someone planted a green grassland on his quilt, and the Duke subconsciously touched the top of his hair, and the whole person felt bad.

The psychiatrist shrugged his shoulders: "Look at this room, where else can grass grow besides you?" ”

The Duke swept at a glance, the granite walls, the marble floor, the psychiatrist made of human flesh and blood, well, it seems that only his coffin was wood!

"What kind of grass is this?" He raised his hand, pinched a piece of grass directly, and while asking, he threw it into his mouth, and the psychiatrist couldn't stop it, so he subconsciously covered his eyes and couldn't bear to look at it directly.

Sure enough, in the next second, the duke spit out with a snort, and jumped like thunder: "Damn it!" Hell yes! What kind of grass is this, how can it be so sour! ”

The psychiatrist raised his head and looked at the overcast castle sky, and said meaningfully: "It's probably the lemon tree on the lemon hill, the grass under the thickest tree." ”

"Lemongrass?" The Duke of the Blood hesitated to call out a name.

The psychiatrist looked subtle, "I think the name vinegar grass is more appropriate." ”

After speaking, he shook the teapot in his hand, pointed to a small grass next to him that had been pinched off the tip of a small leaf, and asked, "Would you like a cup?" It's more sour than the most sour lemon, and it tastes good with honey. ”

The male protagonist tosses it himself-

There is money anyway.

(End of chapter)