Tony cried with abandon and passion.
Tears flowed like they were free, drenching his face to the point where it was hard to tell if it was saliva or snot.
If Duke Cao, who wrote "The Red Mansion," could see a man appearing forty years old crying like this, he'd probably lament that "men are made of water too."
The expressions of those in the drawing room were varied.
Hearing such pure sorrow, no one present felt particularly good.
"The Elder Jean Arnou also said that if any of the three Painting Knife painters' works could have a magical effect on Tony, it would be this Detective Cat."
The assistant recalled the confidence his employer previously had in Detective Cat.
He was filled with mocking laughter.
"Consider my eyes opened; this work is indeed magical. To crush a dull autistic patient to tears is a skill in its own right."
Anya frowned in anger, clenching her fists until her knuckles turned white.
