"No matter what kind of person she is, the dead is gone. Even if you really have any feelings for her, it's human nature. After all, she's your mother." Belle said, "maybe if she's still alive, she'll regret that she treated you like that, and then regret that she didn't do what a mother should do."

"Regret?" a sneer flashed across the corner of his lips, as if sniffing at her words. "Do you really think a woman like her will regret it?"

"I don't know," Belle said, "but I hope she will regret it. If I have a son as excellent as you, I think I will be very happy. As for what interests, they are just passing by."

"It's a pity that many people in this world don't think so." he said. His eyes looking at the tombstone are full of complexity, disgust, loss, ridicule, and a kind of pain of... Asking for but not asking for, "You know what? When I watched her die, I didn't shed a tear. This woman is not worth crying for her at all. Even her death is a relief for me..."

His hands hung down on his side and held them in a fist shape, so that his nails were deeply trapped in the palm of his hand and constantly stabbed the palm, but he didn't feel any pain at all.

Suddenly, a hand held his hand, and a voice sounded around him, "if you don't want to say these words, don't force yourself to say them."

He turned his head in a daze and looked at the man standing next to him. He saw her fingers and broke his fist like hand a little. Then when he saw his broken palm, he exclaimed, "what are you doing, self abuse?" as she said, she quickly took out a paper towel from the small bag she was carrying and carefully wiped his wound, "No matter what, don't hurt your body like this!"

After wiping the wound of one hand, she took his other hand, broke off his fingers and repeatedly wiped the palm of his hand, "I didn't wear an OK bandage. After I go back, I have to deal with your wound again. Also, you actually... You don't hate your mother so much as you want to get your mother's love. In fact, this feeling is also human nature. You don't need to hide it deliberately."

Han Lin's body suddenly froze. "I didn't," he denied.

She glanced up at him. At the moment, he was not like an ordinary cold president, but like an awkward child.

But somehow, it made her heart ache again. She never thought that a proud son like him would have such an unfortunate childhood, even more unfortunate than her childhood. Although she was in an orphanage, at least there was aunt Wu who cared about her.

"Yes, yes, you didn't," she followed his words, "But at least you can sweep your mother's grave. I don't know where my parents are, whether they are dead or alive! Speaking of it, your mother may be fascinated by interests for a while, so she will treat you like that. If I were your mother, I would love you very much. According to your appearance, you should be very lovely when you were a child, white and tender , a small steamed stuffed bun... "