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

Winston replied, "Let's buy some children's supplies first. I'm not really sure what a child this age needs, so thank you for your help."

The butler looked at the little guy sleeping soundly in Winston's arms, his cheeks rosy, and a genuine smile appeared on his face.

"No, sir, it is my duty."

"My job is to relieve the worries of all members of the Winston family."

After speaking, the butler corrected the incorrect posture that neither the assistant nor Winston had noticed.

"Sir, when you hold a child, you need to support him with one hand and protect his back with the other. No, you don't need to use too much force, just enough to support him. Yes, children's bones are soft and they are easily fractured and injured."

"Is that so?" Winston froze.

He glanced guiltily at the red marks on the little guy's face that he had pinched.

When Winston encountered the black tusk, he was surprised that such a soft and tiny cub could exist in the world.

It seemed like even her bones were soft, and her face was so tender it looked like some kind of edible milk jelly, as if she could be easily plucked off.

It looks like a little snowman.

Just holding him made Winston feel his heart lighten and soften.

It seems that a cub has appeared. Within a ten-meter radius of the cub, everyone will naturally become gentler because of its presence.

Because he was such a child who needed so much protection.

Moreover, the little guy relied on him as if he were relying on the most steadfast support in the world.

Winston couldn't help but start thinking about it:

"Can I be a good dad?"

Hearing Winston mutter to himself like this, the butler couldn't help but show a relieved expression:

"Sir, as a parent, you also need to keep learning. You will grow together with your child."

The butler comforted Winston while holding an umbrella and escorting the father and son into the house.

It wasn't until Winston, as if carrying a fragile jewel, stiffly carried the little one into the house that the butler removed the little one's coat.

When the butler saw the bloodstains on the little boy, he couldn't help but exclaim in shock:

"God……"

The butler's smile vanished instantly. He looked at the little guy's clothes, soaked by the snow and dried by his body heat, clinging to his skin, and the conspicuous bloodstains on his clothes. He could hardly imagine what suffering the little guy had endured.

"Sir, does he have any other clothes? He needs to be changed immediately! Children are very vulnerable; wet clothes like this will make him catch a cold and get a fever."

"And what happened to the little guy? Why is there so much blood? Does he have any wounds? Should we call a doctor?"

The butler's tense attitude finally made Winston realize that something was wrong.

Winston, who was used to weathering storms and had often been injured, subconsciously felt that the child wouldn't be so fragile with just a small wound.

But he didn't know that what he took for granted was enough to cause the world to crash and burn for a tender, young child.

It wasn't until Winston saw the butler's reaction that he realized he had made a mistake.

Winston could only tell the butler everything that had happened between him and the little guy.

Upon hearing this, the butler frowned and looked very serious.

"Oh my god... You shouldn't have told him to go to sleep right after something like this happened! Such a young child, witnessing his mother's death, what if he suffers psychological trauma? It could even affect his growth and childhood, and it would take him a long time to recover."

"And we don't even know if he's injured anywhere else..."

The housekeeper quickly called a doctor to examine the little guy.

The doctor simply cut open the little guy's clothes.

When these adults saw the little guy's body wrapped in his clothes, they were truly shocked.

He was so thin, almost skin and bones, and his body was covered with bruises and wounds from various falls and bumps. Some were from car accidents, and some were old injuries that had been there for who knows how long, left behind when the little guy was home alone.

New wounds upon old ones, the little guy is like a tattered rag doll, holding on with his tiny body, waiting for his parents to love him.

When the doctor saw the little guy's condition, he looked at Winston with a strange expression.

"Are these wounds related to you? I'm sorry, please forgive my offense, but he is such a young child, and I have to be careful."

The butler explained the situation to Winston, and only then did the doctor sigh:

"Then we must keep a close eye on his condition. He might be frightened and have nightmares, so we must comfort him."

Upon hearing this, Winston immediately nodded and decided to stay by the little guy's side that night.

Because the clothes Winston brought back for the little guy didn't fit properly, were obviously picked up from somewhere, and weren't soft pajamas, the butler temporarily wrapped the little guy in a blanket.

Looking at the tiny baby wrapped in a blanket, lying on the adult's bed, Winston suddenly realized how small the cub was.

Why didn't I realize it before?

And she treated him with such a cold attitude.

Does the tiny cub truly understand the meaning of its mother leaving it?

Winston had never understood any emotions, but the thought of seeing the little guy huddled alone in the small room made him feel suffocated and unable to breathe.

Winston couldn't blame the mother who had given her life to protect the little one.

He couldn't blame this unexpectedly born cub, a child no one had ever wanted.

He can only blame himself.

Winston sat on the edge of the bed and suddenly noticed a corner of a notebook peeking out from under the clothes of the little guy he had brought.

Winston walked over and picked up the notebook.

Upon opening it, I discovered it was a woman's diary.

Looking at the dense Chinese characters, Winston instinctively felt that these records must be related to the cubs.

So he took out his phone and began translating the woman's delicate handwriting.

"February 19th, sunny. That was the first day Mom found out she was pregnant."

"At that time, my mother was only 22 years old. She was still young and hadn't experienced much. She felt like the sky had fallen and wanted to abort you, to get rid of this unexpected child."

"Because my mother finally escaped the hell that trapped me and ran towards my freedom, I don't want a child to ruin my future..."

"But sitting in the hospital, feeling your presence, I still couldn't bring myself to do it..."

"I'm sorry, I'm really not qualified to be a mother..."

"But you were so tiny when you were born, your skin was red and wrinkled, not cute at all. The nurse told me that all newborns are like that, and it takes a few days for them to grow and become pretty."