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... d sat down on the bed. Kneeling up, she reached out to touch Fu Yisi’s semi-dry hair. The texture was different from hers, a bit rough, and it tickled her palm.

"What on earth do you think Mom was watching?"

Ji Sang’s hands were very soft, and Fu Yisi simply sat on the edge of the bed, half-squinting his eyes, enjoying her sporadic touches.

But his mind was racing.

He knew his mother well; her imagination was just too rich. She probably thought they were preparing ...

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