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"Come on, son, this is the last meal of the week, eat more."
Zhou Rongrong was afraid that her son wouldn't eat well, so on Sundays, she always made her best dishes for Li Zhiyan to taste.
"Okay, Mom, I'm starving."
In the afternoon, Li Zhiyan had been accompanying Fang Zhiya, even going out to buy her a bottle of milk and feeding her, since she needed nutrition to maintain the health of the fetus during this special period.
Now he was indeed somewhat hungry.
"Son, come, eat."
Sitting next to Li Zhiyan, Zhou Rongrong gently sniffed.
She seemed to have caught a whiff of some extraordinary information; she noticed that her son always had the scent of different women on him.
Sometimes it was Wu Qingxian's, and other times the perfume was from someone else.
"Son."
"Have you been in contact with a lot of wo...women lately...?"