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... i caught onto this word, and by the time he reacted, Yan Xinxin had already entered the elevator holding her son's hand.
Isn't Yan Xinxin this little one's mother?
Why did he call her sister?
Mo Chuxi knitted his attractive eyebrows and looked down at the little dumpling he was holding in his hand.
From this angle, the faint eyebrows, the delicate little nose, and the pink little mouth clearly resembled Yan Xinxin a lot.
"Little one, what's your name?"
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