Mother Wen sat across from her. She was the first to notice that she was stroking her chest and her expression was a little uncomfortable. She immediately asked concerned, “Yi’er, what’s wrong with you?”
“It’s okay…” Wen Yi took two deep breaths, forcibly suppressing the feeling, swinging his left hand, “eat, mom, it’s enough to have a grandson for you, I really have another one, you are again The grandson is the grandson again, so I don’t have the pain…”
Mother Wen wanted to persuade her again, but seeing that her face seemed a little uncomfortable, she stopped talking and said, “Let’s eat first, I can’t rush about this.”
Mo Shichen kept staring at her, with a touch of faint complexity in his gloomy deep eyes, and asked in a low voice, “Yi’er, what’s uncomfortable?”
“No,” she turned her head and smiled at him, “for dinner, my mother cooks by herself today, and her craftsmanship is no worse than that of the cook at home.”
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