Jiang Zimo's expression immediately softened, and he bent down and held him in his arms: "Xiao Yanyan, do you miss your daddy? You've become heavier again. You seem to be very well behaved and drinking your milk well."

Rong Qing stretched out her hand to tease him, but one of her fingers was grabbed by the powerful little meatball, who was determined not to let go. She had no choice but to let him grab it and smiled gently:

"You're so strong, you're really a little man. Daddy, mommy can play with you for a while longer, okay? Don't go back to sleep in the middle of the game."

Facts have proved that babies in confinement can't hold on for too long. After just twenty minutes, they fell asleep in their father's broad and comfortable arms. Two bubbles came out of their little mouths. They didn't allow me to put my thumb in their mouths and sucked it from time to time.

Rong Qing looked at Jiang Zimo, who was staring at his son's adorable sleeping face with a gentle expression, and teased him deliberately: "Look, your son was afraid that you would snatch the food from him, so he started eating it himself."

Jiang Zimo is also willing to interact with her:

"Well, our son is still a bit stingy, but can I choose to eat the other finger?"

Rong Qing was really amused by him, and half-suppressed a laugh and said, "Yeah, yeah, I think this is possible. I just don't know if your son has mysophobia, and whether he will dislike you as a father."

"Eat it, eat it. I promise I will be very, very kind to help you promote it. A great master is grabbing his own son's hand to eat it, hahahaha."

Jiang Zimo stretched out his long arms and took the smiling girl into his arms. He was tall enough to hold his son in one arm and his young wife in the other. At this moment, his heart was soft and satisfied. He kissed her fair cheek and turned his head to gently kiss his son's forehead.