Xu Qingyu

If Li Yanmei were to see this scene, she would have noticed the uncanny resemblance between the villa in the dreamscape and the child's actual home.

The attention to detail was striking, as if the dreamscape had been meticulously crafted to mirror every nook and cranny of Xiao Bao's living space.

Even the arrangement of panda plushies and ornaments echoed the familiar layout of his room.

Xiao Bao, whose real name was Xu Qingyu, approached the head butler who had just entered the room.

With an air of quiet determination, he requested, "Uncle Yan, please prepare a cup of warm chocolate milk for me. I'll change into my day clothes in the meantime."

Butler Yan nodded, a flicker of admiration crossing his eyes. "Of course, Young Master Qingyu. Your chocolate milk will be ready when you're done. Take your time."

As Xu Qingyu made his way towards the door, determined to hide his longing beneath a facade of resilience, he couldn't help but pause in the shadowy corner, hidden from view.

His ears caught the hushed whispers of the maids as they exchanged their sympathetic words, oblivious to his presence.

"Young Master Qingyu is truly pitiable," one maid's voice quivered with compassion.

"Yes, it's heartbreaking to see him like this," another maid sighed softly.

Overwhelmed by a mix of curiosity and trepidation, Xu Qingyu couldn't resist eavesdropping on their conversation, hoping to glean some understanding of the emotions swirling within him.

"Madam Xiao Xi hasn't returned for almost a week now," one maid shared with a tone of concern. "And Sir Xu seems to be coming home later and later each day."

A sense of sorrow washed over Xu Qingyu, his heart aching at the mention of his parents' prolonged absence.

The questions he had suppressed for so long began to resurface, urging him to seek solace in the maids' whispered words.

"I wonder when Old Master and Old Madam will visit," another maid pondered, her voice laced with worry.

The weight of longing intensified within Xu Qingyu, the need for familial connection pulling at his very core.

Whispers of speculation and gossip started to surface, threatening to breach the sanctity of the moment.

But before the rumors could take hold, Butler Yan reentered the room, his presence commanding attention.

"Enough with the idle chatter," Butler Yan's voice resonated with authority. "Let us focus on our duties and provide the support that Young Master Qingyu needs."

The maids immediately returned to their tasks, their whispers silenced under the butler's admonition.

None of the maids or butlers noticed the weight that hung heavy in his heart, nor did they realize that he had overheard their whispered conversations.

He retreated silently, finding solace in the familiarity of his room.

Inside the sanctuary of his personal space, Xu Qingyu moved with practiced ease, tidying up his surroundings.

He made his bed, smoothing out the soft sheets with care. The room was adorned with panda plushies and ornaments, each holding a cherished memory.

As he changed into his day clothes, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror.

His reflection revealed a young boy, his eyes shining with determination and a quiet resilience that belied his tender age.

Leaving his room, Xu Qingyu made his way to the dining area, a long table that seemed to stretch endlessly.

The aroma of freshly prepared food filled the air, tempting his senses.

Although the flavors danced on his palate, his mind was preoccupied, unable to fully appreciate the culinary delights before him.

With each bite, he felt a growing sense of emptiness, a longing for the familial warmth that had once enveloped his meals.

When the last morsel was consumed, Xu Qingyu pushed his plate away, his expression a mixture of melancholy and determination.

He knew he had to continue with his daily routine, seeking solace in the vast knowledge housed within the villa's library.

Descending the grand staircase, Xu Qingyu found himself in the basement, where the library resided.

Rows upon rows of bookshelves lined the walls, their shelves filled with knowledge waiting to be discovered.

Xu Qingyu immersed himself in the quiet solitude of the space, the scent of aged paper and leather bindings soothing his senses.

Half an hour later, a bespectacled man entered the library, carrying a briefcase and today's lectures in his other hand.

This man, Wen Zhi, was the tutor hired by his mother to teach him things he wanted to learn about.

Xu Qingyu greeted him with a polite nod, taking a seat at the large mahogany table.

As the hours ticked by, Xu Qingyu's determination to excel in his studies remained unwavering.

Wen Zhi watched with a mix of admiration and concern as the young boy absorbed complex concepts that were far beyond his years.

Each lesson became a testament to Xu Qingyu's unwavering dedication and thirst for knowledge.

But as the afternoon wore on, Wen Zhi noticed a subtle change in Xu Qingyu's demeanor—his usually bright eyes grew heavy, fatigue etching lines of exhaustion on his young face.

The tutor gently cleared his throat, breaking the concentration that had held Xu Qingyu in its grip.

"Xu Qingyu, I believe it's time for a short break," Wen Zhi suggested, his voice laced with genuine concern. "You've been working diligently, but it's important to rest your mind and recharge."

Xu Qingyu glanced up, his eyes flickering with a mix of determination and resistance. "I'm fine, Sir. I want to keep going."

Wen Zhi sighed softly, realizing the depth of Xu Qingyu's commitment and his reluctance to relent.

He knew that the young boy's thirst for knowledge was commendable, but he also understood the importance of balance. With a gentle smile, he placed a hand on Xu Qingyu's shoulder.

"Xiao Bao, I'll call you Xiao Bao, alright? Your dedication is admirable, but remember that even the brightest minds need moments of respite," Wen Zhi said. "Learning is a journey, and pacing yourself is just as crucial as absorbing information. Let's take a break, shall we?"

Reluctantly, Xu Qingyu nodded, conceding to the tutor's wisdom. He closed his books, the weight of his exhaustion making itself known as he slumped over the table, his body betraying his resolve.

Concern etched across his face, the tutor reached for his phone and dialed Butler Yan's number.

He knew that Xu Qingyu needed assistance in returning to his room, for the weight of his studies had taken its toll on his young body.

"Butler Yan, could you please come to the library? Xu Qingyu needs our help," Wen Zhi said softly into the phone, his voice filled with a mix of worry and tenderness.

Within minutes, Butler Yan arrived at the library, his steps quick but controlled.

Together, Wen Zhi and Butler Yan gently lifted Xu Qingyu, cradling him in their arms.

The old butler's heart ached as he saw the deep slumber that had overtaken the young boy, a stark reminder of the immense pressure he bore on his fragile shoulders.

Carefully, they carried Xu Qingyu back to his room, laying him down on the soft sheets that awaited his rest. Butler Yan adjusted the covers, ensuring the young master was comfortable.

Wen Zhi stood by the bedside, his gaze lingering on Xu Qingyu's peaceful face.

"He works so tirelessly," he murmured, his voice heavy with a mix of admiration and concern. "He's just like his mother back then. We must continue to guide him, but also remember to protect his well-being. He is a remarkable young soul."

Butler Yan nodded, his eyes filled with a mixture of compassion and loyalty. "Indeed, sir. We must ensure he finds a balance, for his journey is not without its challenges."

With one last glance at Xu Qingyu, Wen Zhi and Butler Yan quietly left the room, allowing the young boy to rest undisturbed.

Outside the room, they exchanged knowing glances, understanding the weight of their roles in Xu Qingyu's life.

As the door closed softly behind them, the villa settled into a gentle hush, allowing Xu Qingyu to surrender to the depths of sleep.

His dreams would carry him through the night, granting him another meeting with the pretty sister he had unknowingly forgotten throughout the day.