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... is deep eyes staring unblinkingly at the sleeping tingjun. He observed and sized him up. This was his own son. Even at this moment, he still felt like he was in a dream.

Tingjun didn’t sleep well. He liked to kick the blanket at night and he liked to roll around. He could roll from the head of the bed to the end of the bed and from the end of the bed to the head of the bed.

Every time he moved, Yin Zhan’s breathing grew heavier. His long fingers pressed on the sheets, tightening. ...

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