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When Chen Yuan returned to the small courtyard,

dusk had fallen, and the sky was dark.

As soon as Chen Yuan entered, he saw a small head peeking out.

"Brother, Grandpa, you're back!"

"Come over and eat quickly."

First, a milky voice floated over.

Then a boy walked out of the house carrying a food box.

The boy's thick eyebrows were slightly raised, and his pudgy face was flushed with a pink glow.

His clothes were covered with dust, clearly just back from the fields.

"Brother, I made these pastries, do you want to try some?"

The boy looked at Chen Yuan with hopeful eyes, displaying his white teeth and a silly smile.

"They taste good, Zhuangzhuang, you could almost open a restaurant," Chen Yuan tasted them and exaggerated.

Hearing this, the boy's large, shiny eyes instantly narrowed into slits with joy.

This eleven-year-old boy named Zhuangzhuang, formally Chen Guang,

was the only family in the neighborhood who shared the surname with Chen Yuan.