"Sister Miaomiao, where are we going~" Little Mianmian asked in her sweet, childish voice, skipping along behind Miaomiao.

It was still very early, just six o'clock in the morning. The orphanage was quiet, even the birds were still asleep.

The two little girls, neatly dressed, made their way toward the most remote corner of the orphanage.

Before long, Mianmian's tiny footsteps came to a halt. She turned to look back at the familiar building, her small face filled with hesitation.

"I don't want to go anymore. The headmistress said Uncle Ke would come to take me home today~"

Miaomiao turned around and took Mianmian's small hand in hers.

Staring into her younger sister's innocent, wide eyes, a shadow of something far too dark for her age flickered in Miaomiao's gaze.

"Silly Mianmian, didn't you say your necklace was missing? It's in the woodshed up ahead. I'll help you look for it," Miaomiao coaxed gently.

Mianmian still hesitated, fidgeting nervously, but Miaomiao tugged her forward. "Hurry up! It's the precious thing your parents left you. Besides, Uncle Ke dotes on you so much—he'll definitely wait for you."

Dragged along, Mianmian stumbled, her short legs struggling to keep up.

When the woodshed door was pushed open, dust rained down like a storm, making them cough.

The musty smell wrinkled Mianmian's little nose, and she turned to ask timidly, "Sister... is the necklace really in here?"

This time, Miaomiao stayed silent.

Without warning, she shoved Mianmian hard, sending the unprepared little girl tumbling into the shed.

"Sister!" The tiny girl fell onto the floor, her wide eyes filled with shock as she watched the door slam shut in front of her.

She scrambled to her feet, pounding on the door with tearful cries, "Sister! Let me out! Uncle Ke is coming to take me home today!"

Miaomiao locked the door without batting an eye, completely ignoring the little girl's desperate wails before turning away.

After walking some distance, she felt something hard in her pocket.

Reaching in, she pulled out a delicate purple necklace.

Each gemstone had been meticulously polished by skilled hands, shimmering with an ethereal glow—like stars plucked from the night sky and strung together.

Even with no knowledge of jewelry, she could tell this was no ordinary piece.

Stuffing it back into her pocket hastily, Miaomiao dashed to the orphanage's small playground just as the sun fully emerged.

A group of volunteers huddled nearby, whispering among themselves.

"Mianmian's so lucky to be adopted by the prestigious Ke family."

"She'll be living like a real princess now."

"Go fetch Mianmian quickly."

Miaomiao pressed her lips into a tight line at their chatter.

Her eyes gleamed with anticipation as she stared fixedly at the well-dressed man conversing with the orphanage director.

This was none other than Ke Lin—the legendary wealthiest man in City A.

This time, it was finally her turn to become the Ke family's cherished daughter!

Locked in the woodshed, Mianmian sobbed uncontrollably until her voice grew hoarse, but no one passed by this remote place.

Her last hope rested on the tiny window—the only one in the shed.

The old window was covered in cobwebs and positioned frustratingly high.

Again and again, Mianmian clambered up the pile of firewood, tumbling down several times but refusing to give up. Finally, she reached it.

A large, colorful spider, like a dutiful sentry, guarded the window, surrounded by the remains of its prey.

The little girl sniffled and wiped her tears, smearing her round cheeks with dust.

Perhaps startled by this grimy little intruder, the spider silently retreated, making way.

Between hiccuping sobs, Mianmian mumbled, "Y-you're a good spider... thank you..."

She struggled onto the windowsill, only to freeze in terror when she looked down.

Then she wailed even louder.

Waaah! It was too high!

Regret washed over her—maybe she could just climb back down the firewood pile!

Covered in dirt, strands of cobweb tangled in her hair, her tear-streaked face smudged with grime, she looked utterly pitiful. Her big, watery eyes were red from crying.

Gazing at the familiar orphanage building in the distance, she pressed her lips together tightly.

She remembered what the headmistress had told her yesterday—Uncle Ke would come to take her home today.

At this thought, the little girl wiped her tears with her sleeve, clenched her teeth, and jumped down.

As expected, the fall left her palms and knees stinging with pain.

Gritting through the hurt, Mianmian struggled to her feet.

The sun was already high in the sky—Uncle Ke must have arrived by now.

She had to hurry back. No more delays.

The cuts on her small hands stood out starkly against her fair skin, and bright red beads of blood trickled down her legs, dripping onto the ground one by one.

In her haste, the little one didn’t notice—but the grass where her blood had fallen was growing wildly, visibly thickening before her eyes.

After walking for what felt like ages, she finally ran into a volunteer.

The volunteer dropped what she was holding and gasped, rushing over. "Oh my god! Mianmian, what happened to you?"

Lifting her tear-streaked face, Mianmian’s eyes were swollen from crying. Seeing the familiar older sister, her nose stung with the urge to sob again, but she held it back.

"Sister, is Uncle Ke here? Is he still waiting for me?"

The volunteer froze, staring at Mianmian’s reddened eyes in disbelief.

"Mianmian... didn’t you say you didn’t want to go to the Ke family?"

At those words, the little girl could no longer hold back. She burst into loud, messy sobs, smearing blood and tears across her face as she rubbed at it with her small hands.

"I never said I didn't want to go! Really, I didn't!"

"But Miaomiao said you refused to go to the Ke family, hiding away because you were waiting for your birth parents to come get you."

At these words, Mianmian's sobbing abruptly stopped. She lifted her tear-streaked face to look at the social worker, shaking her little head desperately.

"No... no..."

How could she not want to go to the Ke family?

Dodging past the social worker, Mianmian dashed toward the director's office.

"I want to go home with Uncle Ke!"

The tiny girl had barely taken two wobbly steps before someone scooped her up into their arms.

The social worker's face twisted with conflict, but she finally gritted her teeth and said,

"Mianmian... Mr. Ke has already left with Miaomiao. They're gone."

The little girl froze in shock, her small lips trembling, her tears momentarily forgotten.

Her memory cut off there—the last thing she recalled was the panicked cry of the social worker.

"Oh my God! Mianmian fainted!"

By evening,

Mianmian slowly blinked open her bleary, swollen eyes. She instinctively tried to rub them, only to find both her tiny hands wrapped thickly in bandages.

The door creaked open as a flock of children swarmed in, their high-pitched chatter filling the room like a nest of chirping sparrows.

"Alright, alright, everyone out now. Let Mianmian get some rest."

At the director's words, the children obediently filed out of the room. Once silence settled in, the director gently closed the door and took a seat by the bed.

Her heart ached as she looked at the little girl. "Sweetheart, where were you this morning? Didn’t we agree yesterday that you’d go to the Ke family’s place? Why did you suddenly change your mind?"

At the question, Mianmian’s eyes welled up with fat teardrops, her tiny voice trembling with hurt. "I didn’t change my mind!"

She buried her face in the director’s arms, her whole body shaking with sobs, her cheeks flushed red from crying.

"It was Miaomiao! She locked me up! Mama Director!"

Her breath hitched between hiccuping cries, her distress palpable.

"Miaomiao is the worst!"

The little one desperately wanted to explain everything, but her clumsy words tangled in her throat. The director could only catch fragmented phrases—"morning," "woodshed," "locked the door," "big spider"—between her sniffles.

As she soothed the trembling child in her arms, a storm of disbelief raged inside the director’s mind.

She glanced between the two three-year-olds, rubbing her temples.

Could Miaomiao, at such a tender age, really have orchestrated something so calculated?

She still remembered how Miaomiao had said in her sweet, childish voice this morning that it was Mianmian who had first expressed unwillingness to be adopted by the Ke family, which was why she had deliberately hidden today.

Faced with the two little ones pointing fingers at each other, the headmistress found herself in a dilemma.

Whose words should she believe?

She patiently listened to Mianmian’s tearful accusations, gently wiping the little girl’s tear-streaked cheeks before speaking softly, "Sweet Mianmian, let’s not tell anyone else about this for now, okay? I’ll get to the bottom of it first."

The little girl lifted her flushed, tear-stained face, glaring at her with accusing eyes. "You don’t believe me at all!"

"Of course I do. I know Mianmian has always been an honest girl," the headmistress said, reaching out to wipe her tears.

But the little one angrily turned her head away, fat teardrops rolling down her cheeks as she sobbed, "You’re lying! You just don’t believe Mianmian."

The headmistress sighed. "Miaomiao may be strong-willed, but she wouldn’t do anything to hurt others. You’re both children I’ve watched grow up. Let me look into this first, all right?"

This only made Mianmian angrier.

She wriggled out of the headmistress’s arms in a huff, burrowing under the blankets on the bed and leaving behind only a small, round back that radiated displeasure.

"You always favor Miaomiao! You never take my side!"

"Be careful with your wound," the headmistress said, her voice laced with concern.

The furious little girl clenched her injured hand even tighter at those words.

Her face scrunched up in pain, but she stubbornly retorted, "I won’t be careful! You only care about Miaomiao anyway."

"I—"

Just then, a knock sounded at the door. A volunteer stepped in and said, "Director, there's a phone call for you—someone wants to discuss adopting a child."

Friendly Reminder: This isn't your typical "universally adored protagonist" story. Don’t expect strangers to instantly dote on the young main character just because they’re cute.

After all, genuine affection takes time and shared experiences to grow. It’s unrealistic for complete strangers to fall head over heels based on appearances alone.

This is a story about how relationships require effort and nurturing.

It’s perfectly normal for human connections to begin with mutual interests or needs.

Both sides must invest and work at it for bonds to deepen over time.

So if you’re looking for a tale where the protagonist is showered with adoration from the very first chapter, this book might not be for you.

We recommend finding something more suited to your tastes. Happy reading!