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By the time he returned home with his people, he saw only Shen Zhiyu perched on a small stool under the eaves, gazing at the horses.
"Zhiyu?" Shen Wenchen called out softly, looking at the little fellow.
In his previous life, Gougou had not been close to him at all, and in this life, if there was a chance to alleviate the father-son relationship, he was certainly very willing.
As a result, Shen Zhiyu just tilted his head, glanced at them, and then got up and ran to the backyard.
Shen Wenchen's expression remained unchanged, not the least bit embarrassed. He looked around, guessed that Nanzhi was in the kitchen, greeted his brothers to sit and rest, and then took what he had bought that day to the kitchen.
"Nannan."
Nanzhi, who was chopping chicken, suddenly jolted and nearly cut herself.
She could only chuckle awkwardly twice, and replied mechanically, "Ha, haha, is there something you need?"
Shen Wenchen's gaze darkened—it was indeed his fault.