Xinxin... sister?
Mo Chuxi caught onto this word, and by the time he reacted, Yan Xinxin had already entered the elevator holding her son's hand.
Isn't Yan Xinxin this little one's mother?
Why did he call her sister?
Mo Chuxi knitted his attractive eyebrows and looked down at the little dumpling he was holding in his hand.
From this angle, the faint eyebrows, the delicate little nose, and the pink little mouth clearly resembled Yan Xinxin a lot.
"Little one, what's your name?"
Mo Chuxi opened his lips and asked, was he wrong, or did Yan Xinxin call him Little Chenxi? Was he also called Chenxi?
After waiting for a few seconds, Mo Chuxi didn't get a response from Little Chenxi. He looked intently and noticed the little guy wasn't even paying attention to him; instead, he was looking down, twisting the corner of his clothes with his other chubby white hand.
Mo Chuxi's brows furrowed even tighter.
