The sickly little one was adopted by a wealthy foreigner and became a favorite.

Richard liked the black hair and brown eyes of the black rabbit. When the black hair was well-maintained, it had a natural luster, like a fine piece of silk.

Those dark brown eyes were as clear and bright as if they held a pool of honey.

But Richard didn't like the little guy's dull, empty eyes.

He had clearly made the little black rabbit laugh, and they happily ate dinner together. Although the little guy ate very little, with Winston and the butler's confirmation, today was a good day for the little black rabbit to learn to eat properly.

The butler even made a special floral arrangement for Wu Tu to celebrate.

Before the little guy and his dad went back to their room, the little guy kissed Richard on the cheek, leaving him with a honey-milk-scented kiss.

"Remember to keep warm, get plenty of sleep, and recover well."

Richard listened to the little guy keep talking and thought that the little guy was really different from his peers. He remembered that when he was a teenager, he was a naughty kid who secretly did bad things.

But the little guy has a habit of thinking about others.

Richard thought to himself that he would think about what gifts children of this age would like tomorrow, and then give Wutu one every day.

He wanted to let Wutu know that his father wasn't the only one who doted on him.

But Richard seemed to have forgotten to ask how the black rabbit got all those scars.

Since Winston is fulfilling his duties as a father so perfectly, why is the little guy still so quiet and somewhat introverted?

Throughout the entire conversation, the little guy was concerned about others and didn't say a word about his own feelings.

Is he happy? Is he in pain?

……

After Winston went to rest in the next room, Wu Tu opened her eyes, showing no signs of the drowsiness she had just felt.

Winston now sleeps with him every night, but Winston has other work to do and his schedule is different from the little guy's.

Winston was afraid of disturbing the sleeping little guy, so he would leave after the little guy fell asleep.

But from the very first day the little guy arrived home, he slept in Winston's room, in Winston's bed. Winston didn't take him away; instead, he willingly gave up his own room.

Instead, he went to sleep in the guest room without any complaints.

Seeing how much the little guy depended on him and needed his scent to fall asleep, Winston felt a great sense of accomplishment.

Winston, who used to never pay attention to other people's children, now stares at the toys in other people's children's hands whenever he goes out to work. When he sees those children snuggling affectionately in their parents' arms, Winston can't help but imagine the little ones softly calling him "Daddy."

It seems that just thinking about it gives Winston motivation.

He seems to be evolving into an overindulgent father.

But when he returned to the next room to rest, the little boy he had been longing for was not asleep at all.

Wu Tu released his hands that had been covering his ears, and along with the tinnitus came a persistent hallucination that seemed to be constantly mocking him.

"I don't even know what you're good for alive?!"

That sounds like my mother's voice.

"You shouldn't be a burden on your family..."

Then, an aged voice, that of my grandmother, appeared.

Wu Tu wanted to cover her ears to stop herself from hearing and paying attention, but she couldn't help but recall the times when she was ostracized by her family.

Because no one cared about him, his life was unsuccessful from a young age. Everyone knew that no one would stand up for him, so outsiders, neighbors, classmates, and teachers all assumed that Wu Tu could be looked down upon and bullied.

The grievances he had suffered and the incomprehension he felt when he was bullied kept surfacing, like bubbling bubbles, making his thoughts unsettled. Countless times in the dead of night, he was repeatedly wounded by those people's indifferent eyes and contemptuous smiles.

The tiny self can never escape.

When Winston and Richard were around, Ulva didn't want them to see her in such a bad state, so she kept putting on a brave face.

After all, it was already quite dramatic of her to be caught hurting herself by the butler that night.

The black ox is not good at showing its wounds to the person it loves most.

Years of verbal control from his mother made him feel that all his emotions were just being dramatic and making a fuss over nothing.

So when faced with the complete silence of the room, the little guy finally curled up and showed a pained expression.

"It hurts so much... Being sick hurts so much... Trial medication hurts so much, chemotherapy hurts so much... The sounds in my ears are so loud, I feel so uncomfortable, so painful... Why me? What did I do wrong?"

Why? Why?!

It wasn't until Wutu started school that she saw her peers laughing every day, chattering carefree like a flock of happy little birds.

But I am trapped in pain and depression every day and can't escape it at all.

"Forget it, you've already become so bad, you're already broken. Dad can't fix you, don't drag them down with you..."

"You should just hurry up and die."

The crow seemed unable to distinguish who was speaking in its ear; it sounded like its mother, but it also sounded like itself.

For a useless person like him, death is the best end.

The black cat always understood this principle.

However, the little guy sat up in bed, walked barefoot to the terrace, looked at the thorny garden below the railing, and felt that he couldn't die in the manor and cause trouble for his father.

So he tiptoed out of the room, wearing pajamas and barefoot in the extremely cold weather.

The manor was very large, and he walked for a long time until his body felt warm and he no longer felt cold.

He walked to the lake outside the manor. The little guy had already seen the lake through the car window when he arrived.

A lifeless lake.

It suits him very well.

Without much hesitation, Wu Tu walked directly into the lake.

……

Winston couldn't sleep.

He often suffered from insomnia, but after recently learning how to soothe his children to sleep, Winston's sleep quality has improved.

His private doctor gave him a check-up and said that he was too tired from taking care of the crows during the day, and that perhaps the bedtime stories he told his children really had a magical power of love, which helped Winston get a good night's sleep.

But tonight he couldn't sleep at all.

He felt a sense of panic, even a slight ache, as if his sixth sense was telling him that something precious was about to leave him.

Winston's keen business sense allowed him to act decisively. He sat up, reached out and rang the bell to summon the butler.

"Would you like some medicine, or mulled wine?"

The butler asked Mr. Winston questions with great expertise.

But Winston's first words were about the black crow:

"Did you check on the little one when you came over? Was he sleeping well?"