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... urned from Eden, and when he got home, Shen Qinglan was playing with Anan. Anan was already three months old and it would be a hundred days in a few more days. He had become a real sticky rice ball, white and chubby.
He had become much livelier, and what he liked least now was lying in the crib. He enjoyed being held and going out; as soon as he went outside, he was happy.
Shen Qinglan was admiring the flowers in the garden with her son. Anan pointed at a flower in full bloom and ...
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