His hand moved around, stroking back and forth as he was incredibly frustrated. As someone who was loved by all, Mo Xiaobai rarely used his right hand for this purpose; now, however, in a city novel setting...,More fragmented scenes flashed through his mind, causing Mo Xiaobai to curse himself for being foolish and letting his judgment be clouded; he didn't know how to explain imagining women in such a manner. In extreme frustration, a chill swept over him as Mo Yao pulled back the covers and lay down beside him. Mo Xiaobai was at a loss of what to do next, not daring to move or let go.,Moyaoyao thought about it and typed, “Half an hour.”。