His rambling on and on made A-Yuan unhappy.
Because his mother left alone, his intuition told him he should be on television.
He was listening intently to the announcer's broadcast, hoping to hear his mother's name. Today at kindergarten, he learned a phrase that could be used to shut Nie Rong up, so he put his hands on his thighs and said loudly, "Good boy, don't talk."
Then he pursed his lips and looked at Nie Rong again. His baby had already shut up, and he hoped that Nie Rong would shut up too.
But at this moment, Nie Rong's thoughts wandered off again. However, he did think of Nie Zhao, and surprisingly, even in his senile state, he admitted that Nie Zhao was better than Nie Yao.
He said, "Ah Sheng, the Chief Justice is present; it's a very important occasion. You should send Ah Zhao instead of Ah Yao. Why did you send Ah Yao?"
He added, "Ah Yao is too obedient. He's no good. He can't handle them."
Nie Zhao paused for a moment, but of course didn't say anything.
After holding back for a while, seeing that the old man on the bed was still talking, A Yuan slapped his thigh and said, "Good boy, don't talk."
But at that moment, Nie Rong suddenly stared blankly, lunged forward, and roared, "Ah, Ah Zhu!"
In this governor's mansion, on the same red carpet and the same steps, Nie Rong saw a woman in a flowing cheongsam alight from her car. He vaguely recognized her as the radiant, dazzling woman from thirty years ago—his wife.
How could she be there? Is she still alive? He must find her and tell her his regrets.
Nie Zhao quickly grabbed A Yuan and pulled him into his arms, covering his eyes.
Nie Rong coughed up a mouthful of blood and fainted.
Well, it seems the health he gained from the ritual is gone again.
While struggling with his son and covering his eyes, Nie Zhao calmly pressed the emergency call button.
On the television, his wife, breathtakingly beautiful, was capturing the attention of all the reporters in Hong Kong.
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