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Watching the annoyed expression on the person in his arms, Wang Tao raised his arm and then said with an innocent face:
"It's not my fault, who told you to always crawl into my arms when you sleep, I can't even push you away—"
"Stop talking!"
Han Rui's face turned red with embarrassment as she covered Wang Tao's mouth.
She just liked to hug something when she slept; in the past, she had a pillow at home, now she simply treated Wang Tao as her pillow, nothing more.
Wang Tao chuckled and, after Han Rui had smoothed her hair, he suddenly embraced her.
Han Rui struggled symbolically a couple of times, then gave up as if resigned to her fate and stopped moving.
But Wang Tao didn't do anything either; he just wanted to hold her. Han Rui, with a red face, lay on Wang Tao's chest, not speaking. The two of them just quietly lazed in bed for a while.
Wang Tao, just like Han Rui, liked to hold something when he slept, a habit that had developed recently.