At the end of May, the cicadas chirped in summer, and the warm sunshine made people sleepy.

The street is relatively remote, with no pedestrians, and there is also a long alley. Occasionally, people who pass by glance at the alley, frown, and hurried past.

There is a boy from the corner of the street. He is tall and long legs, and looks as elegant as a painting. The white shirt is slightly cool, the collarbone lines are cold and hard, the waistline is thin, and it is cold and abstinent. At first glance, there are only two words clean, which looks like the first love of all girls in their dreams. The boy in white in school is accompanied by his eyebrows and eyes, and he is covered in cold ink.

His temperament is cold, not an ordinary sense of alienation, but an ice that has a sharp edge.

From time to time, a few dull sounds of impact sounded in the alley ahead, as if they were pressing the person to hit the wall. Several boys stood outside the alley, blocking the road that was not wide, standing loose, chatting and laughing, smoking.

It's a picture that you will avoid when you see it.

The boy's eyes were cold, and there was no turbulence when he looked straight ahead. Perhaps because of his too cold temperament, he always felt a sense of loneliness in his sight.

He lowered his eyes and glanced at his wrist watch, and walked forward without moving.

When passing by that alley, there was no pause.

The boys in front of him paused when they saw someone, and they all fell on the boy.

Most of them have dyed their hair, wear studs, and have tattoos on the sides of their ears or arms. They look slutty and are not easy to provoke. Some of them spoke: "Who are you?"

The boy is very tall and has deep eyes. When he looks at people, he feels condescending. He glances lightly and lightly, and there is no difference between looking at ordinary people.

"Borrowed." His sound quality was cold, like a cold weather that was below zero. A cold drink with a negative degree Celsius sounded nice, but it was too light and too light. In this impetuous and hot summer, it made people sober for no reason.

The boy laughed, and he looked at the boy up and down a few times, which was a brutal sight. Finally, he came to a conclusion, and he was a good student. He sneered disdainfully: "I don't have any eyes, can't see anyone? I can't pass this."

The boy's eyes fell on them, neither light nor heavy, without anger, he was looking at the irrelevant person. He didn't say a word, obviously he was too lazy to say more. He was almost cold to the extreme indifference, and walked forward with his long legs.

The boy frowned, very unhappy with the boy's expression. He was about to take action, but was pressed by the person next to him. The man's eyes signaled the direction in the alley and pointed his chin: "Forget it, don't cause trouble."

"You're lucky." The boy paused and stood back in annoyance.

The person who came forward to stop him was stained with a smoky blue head, handsome, dressed up very trendy, had a particularly strong bad aura, and was used to frivolous eyes, and looked at the boy with a smile, "Brother, is this from No. 1 Middle School? Newly transferred?"

Why do you ask this? Haze Blue is purely based on your feelings.

This young man looks like a benchmark, meticulous, cold and solemn, and is completely different from them. The alley is No. 1 Middle School, but this person is not wearing a school uniform. It is unlikely to be based on rigorous inertia, and it is very likely that he was transferred.

"Um."
Chapter completed!