The sewing machine was clattering away when Feng Qingxue heard her younger son's cry from behind.
Turning her head, she saw Zhuangzhuang struggling to sit up by himself. He was wearing a thick cotton outfit, and despite struggling for quite some time, he failed to roll over. Instead, he had kicked the blanket aside, and his little face was red from the effort.
He didn't cry, but continued to flail, trying to turn over.
Feng Qingxue quickly stopped her work and stood up to pick him up. "Zhuangzhuang is awake? Why so early?" she asked.
Only an hour and a half had passed; he usually slept for a full two hours.
Zhuangzhuang wrapped his arms around her neck. "Mommy, pee."
Though physically weaker than his two older brothers, the little guy's ability to express himself was top-notch, comparable to Fubao's.
