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

"The nurse didn't lie to me. You really did grow up to be very cute, the most beautiful and well-behaved child in the world, my baby, my darling. I wanted to give you everything I had, even the stars in the sky... but I have nothing."

"sorry……"

"Working is so tiring. To support you, I only sleep three hours a day. When I come home and open the door to find the place a mess, I really can't control my emotions and I yell at you. But you don't cry or make a fuss. You can't even walk yet, but you still crawl over to try and wipe my tears."

"You said, if it doesn't rain, Mom won't suffer..."

"Why did you, such a good child, have to appear? Why did you have to suffer with me?"

"I considered giving you away, but when I took you to the orphanage, I was afraid that what if the family you were born into treated you badly? What if you missed your mother?"

"My dearest child, how should a mother love you?"

"My dear child, will you ever meet someone in your life who will love and protect you forever?"

Looking at the handwriting, Winston couldn't empathize with the mother who loved her child so deeply.

He cannot understand other people's emotions, nor can he comprehend their joys and sorrows.

But this same man became completely absorbed in reading the little boy's growth diary kept by the woman.

It turns out the little guy was even younger before.

It turns out the little guy was always so sensible.

It turns out that the little guy needs his mother to pat his back to sleep, praise him while drinking milk, hold his mother's hand while walking, and loves it most when his mother strokes his head and praises him as a good baby and a good boy.

He seemed to see a vivid, lifelike cub through the woman's diary, and couldn't help but want to cherish it.

But he still didn't understand how much love it must take to describe a child in such an endearing way.

He didn't yet understand that the crow had a loving mother, which was why Winston was able to learn all of the little guy's preferences through such writing.

Winston was flipping through his diary when he suddenly felt his other hand, which was resting on the edge of the bed, being grabbed.

Winston looked down and saw that the little guy had woken up at some point, his eyes open, his little hand tightly gripping one of Winston's fingers.

When Winston met his gaze, the little guy's bewildered expression gradually turned into one of grievance.

The cub cried out in anguish.

Winston stood around that tiny person, completely at a loss for what to do.

He was at a loss until the butler appeared, at which point the all-powerful Winston visibly relaxed.

Despite the little one's urgent cries, the butler remained calm and directed Winston to pick him up and gently pat his back to soothe him.

But when Winston touched the little guy's body, he couldn't help but say:

"It's so hot!"

The butler reached out and touched the cub's forehead, his brow furrowing.

He has a fever.

The housekeeper called the doctor again, but on the way, the little guy vomited up the last bit of food in his stomach.

Winston didn't care at all. Even though the little guy had made a mess of his suit, he didn't get angry. He just casually took off the suit and planned to ask the servant to take it to be cleaned.

However, Winston's actions were stopped by the butler.

"Wait... what's this?"

The butler looked at the stain with a surprised expression:

"Why is there dirt in the little guy's belly?!"

Winston's mind went completely blank.

He didn't know how he felt right now.

He was just frantically recalling every move he made after meeting the little guy.

Winston certainly didn't see him eat the dirt, and he would never allow him to.

However, in his memory, the little guy never complained of being hungry, and even when Winston took away his expired milk, the little guy didn't cry or fuss.

It turns out that during the time the little guy lost his mother and was left unattended, he was helpless and hungry, so he had to find food to fill his stomach so that he could endure for a while longer, without speaking or being discovered by bad people...

Winston covered his forehead.

He covered his reddened eyes with his hand and asked:

"When will the doctor arrive?"

The butler immediately replied, "Soon, in two minutes."

While the adults were anxiously waiting, the little one vomited up the bloated stuff in his stomach and then felt uncomfortable and hungry.

But these are not the most important things.

He had a nightmare while he was sleeping, dreaming that his mother was covered in red, lots of red.

Even after the child woke up, he still couldn't see his mother.

So he could no longer suppress his fear and cried helplessly:

"Mommy...I want my mommy! Mommy..."

Because the little one was just calling for its mother, Winston could understand what the cub meant.

The little guy is looking for his mother, but how can he conjure up a mother for the child?

Winston could only offer gentle words of comfort:

"Daddy's here, Daddy's here."

The cub cried for a while, then realized that his mother really didn't appear. So he rubbed his eyes and tried to break free from his father's arms.

He muttered:

"Baby wants to go home, baby wants to go home and wait for Mommy..."

Winston looked at the little guy.

He actually had a hundred, a thousand ways to make the little guy stay.

Because Wutu was just a child who had no ability to resist.

However, Winston seemed to lack the strength to stop the cubs.

The cub only shed tears in front of him, and he crumbled and retreated step by step.

Winston could only carry him, along with the butler, the doctor, and a group of others, back to that small room.

Winston thought that if there was anything that could comfort him, it was probably only the scent of his mother in the room.

Sure enough, the little guy stopped fussing as soon as he got home.

He sat obediently on the bed, waiting for his mother to come home.

The doctor examined him, and when he saw those terrifying needles, he was so frightened that he hid in Winston's arms again.

Then Winston immediately remembered that the woman's diary said the little guy was especially afraid of needles, and every time he went to the hospital to see a doctor, he would keep saying "thank you, doctor," hoping the doctor would let him off the hook.

As Winston thought about this, a slight smile actually appeared on his lips.

He himself was unaware of the changes in himself.

The poor little guy in my arms started thanking the doctor again, but he still couldn't escape the doctor giving him a shot.

His fever was so high that it would definitely kill him if it continued, so the doctor had no choice but to give the little guy an antipyretic injection and prescribe him emetics.

The doctor couldn't be sure if the little guy had vomited all the dirt out of his stomach, so he could only try to induce vomiting.

Winston thought the little guy would cry even harder than before because he was in so much pain, but even though he was suffering, the little guy just lay listlessly in his father's arms, tears welling up in his eyes, occasionally sobbing.

"Mom said to be quiet, otherwise, bad people might come..."

Winston couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness as he looked at the cubs who had learned to be so patient and so well-behaved.

His heart felt as if it were being tightly gripped by a pair of large hands.

Winston, now, only wants to ask him:

"Baby, it's okay to cry. If you're upset, just cry it out, okay?"