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

Why should I?!

What right did those people have to hurt his brother?!

Other children want to dance, so his younger brother wants to dance too! Wutu will definitely be a more talented dancer than that ill-mannered child in the future!

What difference is there between this behavior and breaking the wings of a crow?

Moreover, Richard, who had been framed and almost couldn't stand up, saw his beloved younger brother fall to the ground in a sorry state, just like seeing his own helpless self.

He knows best how painful it is to be unable to walk.

I also understand how heartbroken the little guy is right now.

His most trusted family members turned their knives on him and harmed him without hesitation.

The horrific wounds on Wutu's calves showed that the attacker's intention was to render Wutu unable to stand up again.

Tiger poison does not eat children.

Even if his family members are not Wutu's biological parents, they are still related by blood.

I don't know what kind of scoundrel would lay a hand on his own nephews and nieces, on such young children.

Richard felt pain.

My heart aches, and my flesh aches too.

He slowly squatted down, almost too afraid to touch the little guy's legs.

However, the little guy's foot is not fixed, and if he is not taken to the hospital in time, it could really be fractured and dislocated.

This was also a butterfly effect caused by their mishandling; they failed to protect the little one, which allowed that family to hurt Wutu again in their memories...

Richard felt he simply couldn't face the little guy's lifeless eyes.

He was so ashamed that he couldn't lift his head.

But now time is of the essence.

Richard took a breath and pressed down on the little guy's leg.

The black ox couldn't help but let out a heart-wrenching cry.

It was so tragic it was heartbreaking.

"Don't be afraid!! If it hurts, bite your brother's hand, okay? Don't be afraid, don't be afraid..."

Richard repeated incoherently, holding the little creature in his arms, feeling the black rabbit's struggles, trembling, and despair...

He seemed to be reliving the suffering of the black ox.

The knife was cutting back and forth across their hearts.

"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..."

Richard felt like he was being driven crazy.

But he needs to stay calm, stay calm.

He can't destroy the black tusk anymore!

Richard, his forehead covered in cold sweat, grabbed the first-aid kit he had hastily grabbed, disinfected himself and the black rabbit, and began to gently restrain the little guy.

The screams echoed in the empty room, growing even more piercing.

The black cricket is always silent, like a harmless rabbit or hamster. Such gentle and lovely animals only let out an extremely cruel cry when they are persecuted to the extreme and have no way out.

Richard was in great discomfort, but he absolutely could not allow his hands to tremble.

He wrapped his arms around the little guy to prevent him from escaping, and then put one of his hands in the little guy's mouth so that he wouldn't bite him.

After a simple fixation, Richard took the little one to the hospital.

He watched as the little guy was taken into the operating room, and the red light came on.

Richard stared at the white wall, his mind replaying the image of the little guy crying in pain, a stark contrast to the dazzling child gliding on the ice earlier.

Winston and the others followed. He looked at Richard and, from his expression, understood that the little guy was in a bad situation.

Richard sat silently in a chair outside the operating room.

As Winston walked past, he suddenly stood up and walked straight out.

Seeing Richard's expression, Kaylan knew something was wrong and quickly tried to stop him.

Richard, who had previously advised Kaylan against acting impulsively, now seems determined to kill those scumbags.

He didn't care if Richard did it himself; he wasn't afraid of public opinion or any negative impact on himself as the Crown Prince.

Richard didn't care about anything else; all he wanted was for those people to pay for their crimes in blood!

Seeing this, Winston reached out and pressed down on Richard's shoulder.

But Richard reacted faster, reaching out and throwing a punch that landed squarely on Winston's left cheek.

Upon seeing this, Kaylan muttered, "Fuck!"

"What are you doing, Richard! Calm down! Hold no!"

Winston wasn't angry. He pressed the tip of his tongue against the sore spot on his face and looked up at Richard.

Richard and Winston locked eyes, their auras nearly identical, like two lions locked in combat.

Richard growled, "The little guy's already like this?! What do you mean by waiting and timing! If you let this continue, those people will kill Wu Tu sooner or later!"

How could Winston not know?

He was the first person to discover the little guy, the first person to pick him up and cherish him like a treasure.

That is precisely why Winston must be even more cautious.

He wanted to monitor the mother and child within his control, gradually spoiling them and inflating their appetites before sending them to a decadent and dissolute place to experience the horrors of Southeast Asia...

He wants to be the mastermind behind the scenes, making this scheme flawless.

Because he knew the little guy was kind, he would only let that woman be punished by law.

Her crime, legally, constitutes intentional injury, and the fracture can only be classified as a minor injury in the injury assessment.

It's possible that when the bad guy is released after serving a few years in prison, his child will still be a teenager...

However, in Winston's mind, the harm they caused to the black rabbit could not be compensated for with such a simple price.

Therefore, he wanted them to legitimately and seamlessly succumb to their own depravity and embark on the path of self-destruction.

But Winston has to stay away from the little guy for the time being.

The better Winston treats Ulva now, the more resentment he will cause to the mother and son.

They will cling tightly to the black crow, harming the little guy again and again where Winston cannot protect him.

How could Winston not hate?

How could he not hate it? How could he not have thought that it would be better if this wasn't part of his memory?

He can proceed directly without fear of harming the little one's brain.

If this weren't a memory, but reality, Winston would have been able to find him shortly after Ulva's birth.

He will then be able to truly lead the crow out of the abyss.

If it's just a little earlier, two years old is fine, then three years old is fine, three years old is fine, then six years old is fine. If it's just a little earlier, the black rabbit won't end up covered in wounds.

Winston didn't find these repeated rescues tedious.

He prayed countless times, wishing to save Wu Tu from his predicament sooner, more quickly, a thousand times over, again and again.

Everything that Wu Tu had encountered was already revealed in his breakdown and despair.

The little guy's leap into the lake on a snowy night was his loudest cry to the world.

He heard it, Winston heard it, but nothing could be changed.

Like the crow, Winston could only find solace in this illusory memory.

Winston swallowed Richard's punch; he felt he deserved it.

He owes the little guy.

But Richard also felt ridiculous.

He was so powerless that he couldn't even save the little guy, so he could only vent his anger on others.