PREVIEW
... Little Wen Ming was merely a year and a month old. He was still a baby, nursed and carried in Fang Jiaran’s loving arms. Seated beside her was her nine-year-old son, Wen Xu. His posture was impeccable as both his arms were placed formally on his lap while his back was incredibly straight. He had a completely stiff and emotionless yet slightly cold expression on his face. If he was to compare his expression with Wen Ren’s expression, both of them would be complete opposites.
Every person s ...
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