"Oh no! Why are you crying?" Ndulou panicked and hurriedly pulled out his handkerchief from his pocket to wipe the tears of the weak young master.
While sitting in his wheelchair, Ernesto covered his face and shook his head in response to Ndulou.
[What is this? What happened? Why? WHY?]
He asked himself why he was getting the same result.
The Ndulou, in his first life, had long white hair. His white hair was beautiful, but it made him look cold and listless.
Ernesto preferred his friends' rose-gold hair because it was more livelier, a sign that Ndulou had not experienced any suffering.
"Ndulou, what happened? What makes your hair like that?"
He shook his head once more and forced his tears to stop.
