"Save my mother, Auntie, please." After supporting Mrs. Xu, Zhao Chunyu hurriedly clutched at Zhang Xiaoying's sleeve.
Zhang Xiaoying felt somewhat helpless and said, "Your mother will be fine, let go first."
Zhao Chunyu quickly released Zhang Xiaoying's sleeve.
Zhang Xiaoying took out silver needles and pricked Mrs. Xu a few times, and Mrs. Xu slowly regained consciousness.
"Xiaoying, is there really no hope for Chunbao?" The first thing Mrs. Xu thought of was her son.
No matter how outrageous Zhao Chunbao's actions had been, at the brink of death, all his mother remembered was that he was the child she had given birth to, and as long as he was alive, she was willing to do anything.
Regrettably, even the most profound maternal love is helpless against a loveless son.
Of course, this was Zhang Xiaoying's perspective as an onlooker.
She had never experienced carrying a child for ten months, nor had she raised a child from birth, so she could not fully empathize with Mrs. Xu.
