Tao Junhui's expression changed.
Du Muhan's expression, however, was on the verge of cracking, and his cheeks felt slightly warm.
Seeing that he showed no reaction, Su Qiao secretly pinched his waist where Tao Junhui couldn't see, then looked up at him threateningly. "Cooperate a little."
Du Muhan's body stiffened. He nodded somewhat stiffly. "Mm."
Tao Junhui suddenly felt both miserable and awkward. He strode toward the autopsy room inside, though his steps were heavier than usual, and his expression was none too pleasant.
Su Qiao rolled her eyes at Du Muhan and quietly leaned close to his ear. "You look like a zombie. Do you think everyone else is an idiot?"
Du Muhan blinked. What else am I supposed to do? He already nodded and answered, didn't he?
Su Qiao quickly glanced over her shoulder, then reminded him with a smile, "You can hold my hand, put your arm around my shoulder, or touch my hair."
The moment Du Muhan heard the words "hold hands," he reached out and grabbed Su Qiao's hand without the slightest hesitation.
Afraid that Su Qiao would get angry and resist, he reached out with his uninjured right hand and stroked her long ponytail.
But once he started, he became addicted to it.
It was smooth and silky, somewhat like Little Wang's long fur, except one was jet-black and gleaming, while the other was white as snow.
Su Qiao immediately pulled it away. "Are you petting fur?" He had mussed up all her hair!
Du Muhan slightly furrowed his brows.
Hadn't she told him to touch her hair?
Wouldn't touching it a few more times have been even better?
"Your eyes. Make them a little more doting. Don't look at me like you're staring at a piece of wood."
Du Muhan looked utterly bewildered.