“You were hugging me.” A sudden realization, thunder from a clear sky. Sleeping in this damn heat was like being baked in a furnace, and Mobei-Jun’s body temperature just happened to be cold. In a muddled state of sleep, Shang Qinghua had subconsciously moved toward the cooler side of the bed, and the closer he got, the cooler and more comfortable he’d become. No wonder he had dreamed of a giant popsicle around which he’d happily wrapped his four limbs like an octopus as he licked and cried happy tears.
