The surgery for Xingxing was unsuccessful.
The doctor went in and out twice, each time telling them to be psychologically prepared.
Lin Zhiyi's face was drained of color, and her ears seemed to suddenly go deaf, hearing nothing.
In her mind, scenes of Xingxing from birth to now replayed over and over.
Little Xingxing, really sensible.
Until today, she was obviously so well.
How could it just...
Lin Zhiyi could only blame herself for bringing Xingxing back to Jing City.
When she felt like she was about to suffocate, a familiar yet distant voice suddenly came to her ear.
"Mom."
She was momentarily stunned, then instantly looked up to see a small figure standing outside the operating room.
Eight-year-old Xingxing.
Her voice, unlike now, was not so childish, just like in a past life, carrying a sense of pity towards Lin Zhiyi.
She wore a dress that Lin Zhiyi had made for her, smiling particularly happily.
"Mom."
"Mom, don't be afraid, Xingxing will always be with you."