But he had already experienced scenes like this over thirty times.
Tears had dried up, and sadness was exhausted.
"You have a great mother; I admire everyone who can sacrifice themselves to protect their family."
"Xiaoxiao, now that you see such scenes again, you don't cry, do you?"
Zhou Xiaoxiao didn't want to admit it, but facts speak louder than words.
"In the future... when I think of mom, perhaps I'll still shed tears, but the degree of sadness might be far less than when I first saw her die."
"After experiencing her death dozens of times, it seems I've gradually accepted it."
Wen Xishu nodded, but then changed the subject:
"But Yuan can't accept it."
Zhou Xiaoxiao was taken aback.
Wen Xishu said:
"Actually Yuan is a particularly... immature person."
"Yuan... immature?" Zhou Xiaoxiao found it difficult to associate this word with Yuan.
Wen Xishu continued:
