Not getting the answer she wanted, Qiao Xiaon'an stopped, standing in the hallway of the old residential building. Despite the dim light, with the sensor lamp long broken, it didn't prevent Yun Mo's charm and grace from showing.
Looking into his dark eyes, she pouted, "I'm asking if you've ever had a wet dream...what does that have to do with my way of thinking." He didn't answer, so she poked his palm, pressing him, "Go on, speak."
Yun Mo remained silent.
He seemed not to want his privacy intruded.
He released her hand and climbed the staircase.
She caught up, "Amo, only I should know your secrets, you have to tell me."
"....." His cold and aloof demeanor wouldn't allow him to share, he would not admit to her that he had normal physiological reactions, that he could have that kind of dream.
All he did was darken his expression even further in discomfort.
He paused, waited for her to catch up, then roughly pushed her head, "What the hell do you have in your head all day?"
