'What a load of bullshit. A bunch of idiots, trying to teach a master his own craft—like wielding a broadsword in front of Guan Gong. So stupid!'
Xie Ning was so exasperated she was speechless.
'This little brat seems to have a pretty big vocabulary…'
Her hand, hovering in the air, grew increasingly hesitant to press the final key.
'Why does it feel like this kid is some kind of monster?'
'He's just a tiny thing, yet he speaks so eloquently, without even pausing for breath.'
'This little box looks like it's only about a meter square. It can't possibly hold a very big child, can it?'
'Mommy, you don't like me? How can you not like me?'
A rippling cry soon echoed from the depths of her mind—the WAAAH WAAAH WAAAH of a baby's wail.
Xie Ning was completely bewildered.
'She hadn't expected this brat to start crying at the drop of a hat.'
As if sensing something, the bizarrely-shaped children on the metal plates immediately grew agitated.
