Chapter 87: Dad Needs More Sleep

"Sister, I don't like banquets; everywhere are strangers, I feel uncomfortable, but I still came." Pei Muyin paused, then said softly: "Because Grandma said Dad would also come."

"But Dad didn't come; I didn't see him."

Shu Shu was stunned.

That person, he clearly came.

Seeing her daughter let her fair eyelids droop in disappointment, Shu Shu pressed her lips and asked: "Not seeing Dad, Muyin, do you feel regretful?"

"Yeah, there is."

The girl nodded without hesitation; she probably recalled having told Shu Shu before that her family didn't pay much attention to her.

Since they don't care, why would she still miss them and feel regretful?

Pei Muyin shifted a little closer to the pillow, her clear eyes looking at Shu Shu: "Sister, we've known each other for so long; haven't I ever told you about myself?"

The girl obviously looked ready to confide; Shu Shu gently turned her head, adopting a listening posture: "I'm all ears."

After a few seconds of silence, Pei Muyin slowly spoke: "Since I can remember, there has never been a mother's presence in my world."

Shu Shu's heart clenched at those words.

Then she heard the girl continue:

From the time she could remember, her small world lacked not only a mother and grandmother, but also aunts, uncles, or any elders like other children have.

Only her father.

And her home wasn't the Pei family's main residence in Jing Shi now, but a relatively secluded beautiful villa.

She and her father lived there together.

In front of the villa stood a garden; inside the garden were a pavilion, a swing, a flowing-water view, and beside the wall a wooden doghouse where a dog named Da Fu lived.

Pei Muyin grew up running on the garden's lawn since childhood.

Da Fu wasn't a prized breed; he was just an ordinary countryside dog, with a pink nose, off-white fur all over, but his four paws were gray, as if wearing little socks.

Dogs naturally have a habit of hoarding food; Da Fu liked to bury chew sticks wrapped in beef jerky, digging holes all over the yard.

But each time after burying it, a couple days later he couldn't find it, then he'd run to Pei Muyin's feet, spinning anxiously and whining, wanting her help.

"Don't rush, Da Fu, don't rush."

The just-over-two-and-a-half-year-old Xiao Mu Yin accompanied it in the garden search; as they searched, she ended up lying on the grass, huffing and puffing as she dug, her fair little hands and face covered in mud, while the dog beside her lowered its body and used its two front paws to dig along with her.

One person and one dog, viewed from behind, the person wasn't even as big as the dog, like a tiny radish sprout, yet she tried her hardest.

After they dug a hole, they still didn't see the chew stick.

"Did Da Fu forget? He didn't bury it here, huh."

"Woof! Woof!"

The dog protested, saying he hadn't forgotten; that big chew stick was definitely buried here!

"Okay, okay..."

Xiao Mu Yin's two short legs gave out as she sat slumped on the grass, panting, she said: "Can I rest a bit? Then I'll help Da Fu look."

"Woof!"

Just then, a strong arm reached from behind and steadily lifted Pei Muyin off the ground.

Xiao Mu Yin turned her head and met the young man's calm, dark eyes.

"Dad!"

"Hmm."

Pei Du lowered his gaze, sweeping over his daughter in his arms, who had made herself look like a little flower cat.

He had merely been turning to slice a fruit when his daughter slipped off the chair; it was obvious she had run to the garden.

Pei Du held his daughter and seated her on the chair, then with his other hand pulled out a baby wet wipe to clean her face, keeping dirt from her mouth and eyes, while listening to her soft, childish voice say that she was helping Da Fu find his missing chew stick.

"Its chew stick isn't lost," Pei Du said, gently wiping her face with downcast eyes, not minding the mud on her getting on him, as he softly explained: "The groundskeeper came and took away its chew stick."

The dog's tail, which had been wagging like a propeller, suddenly stopped: "Woof?!"

"Ah, poor Da Fu."

Xiao Mu Yin, feeling empathetic, was about to pout from sadness.

"It's okay; Dad will get him a new one later."

"Yay!" Xiao Mu Yin clapped her hands.

The dog's tail wagged again, his mouth opened as if smiling, revealing a tongue with a dark birthmark.

After wiping her face clean, Pei Du took his daughter to bathe, handed her to the maid, and waited outside the washroom; before closing the door, he always said:

"Dad is right outside, you know?"

"Okay~"

…

While Pei Muyin was bathing, the dog was also sent for cleaning.

After the person and dog were both clean, they rolled around playing on the thick living-room carpet, and Pei Du faithfully fetched a new chew stick for the dog.

Actually, Da Fu's hoarding wasn't just once or twice, nor was getting Pei Muyin dirty just once or twice.

But Pei Du never got angry; each time he calmly cleaned up their "mess."

On her third birthday, Xiao Mu Yin felt she was the happiest child in the world; when making a wish, she felt so content she had nothing she wanted, and ultimately wished for:

"I wish Da Fu stays healthy and doesn't get sick, and then Dad, please sleep more!"

At that time, Xiao Mu Yin didn't know that Pei Du had only recently taken over the Pei clan and how busy he was each day; she only knew that Dad would always make time to eat with her, wait for her to finish bathing, then coax her to sleep.

Occasionally she would wake in the middle of the night, open her eyes to see the faint glow of the star lamp above her head, and could faintly hear a low, soft male voice from the next room.

Then Xiao Mu Yin would climb down from the raised cushion beside her bed, hug her stuffed bear, and push open the neighboring door.

In her peripheral vision she caught a tiny figure peeking out; Pei Du at his desk made a pause gesture toward the camera, turned it off, and familiarly rose to hug his daughter.

Pei Du would always put a pair of small socks on his daughter before bedtime to prevent her from waking up barefoot in the middle of the night and risk getting cold.

Pei Du turned on the microphone and said again, "Continue."

Nobody knew that, with the camera turned off, he was listening to the report while gently patting his daughter's little shoulder to lull her to sleep.

…

Later, Xiao Mu Yin grew a bit older; by the time she was four, she gradually understood that her father slept so little each day because he had to work.

Once, the kindergarten teacher said that next week there would be a parent-visit event, and all the children had to come accompanied by their father or mother.

Xiao Mu Yin told her father, "Dad, you don't need to come; just focus on your work—I'll take care of myself."

Pei Du placed his daughter properly in the child seat in the back; hearing that, he stroked the strawberry hair tie on her hair, curled his lips, and said nothing.

He did not miss that parent-visit event.

At that time, Xiao Mu Yin did not know that her father was about to be absent from her life after she turned four—