When Lin Guo finished washing up and sat down at the dining table, he could no longer look directly at the man's changed pair of white gloves.
The soiled clothes had been completely washed, and the man still had a refreshing scent of laundry detergent on him. He picked up a piece of fried egg with his uninjured left hand and put it into his mouth. Lin Guozi was curious about how much was hidden in the man's Doraemon-like pocket.
"Master, why do you keep looking at Kevin like that?" After putting away the used kitchen utensils, the man handed over a glass of milk, and then kissed the boy on the forehead very naturally.
Pushing the limit.
Glancing at the man's serious but smug expression, the boy lowered his head and silently bit the toast with jam as if it were his own.
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