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“You’re eating again?” Sang Zhilan’s eyes were red with fury, her heart pounding with anger. She knocked over the bowl in Tang Yuxin’s hand, spilling the freshly cooked noodles and broth over Tang Yuxin.

With a smack, she slapped Tang Yuxin across the face. “A thankless wretch, you are! If anything happens to Nini, I swear I will kill you!”

Anger coursed through her veins, making her body tremble. Believing that Tang Yuxin had done it on purpose, she grabbed a broom and began to hit her relentlessly.

Tang Yuxin remained standing, her fingers on the hand, now soaked with the broth, trembled slightly, blistered from the heat.

Her eyes were teary, but she didn’t cry or beg for mercy.

Sang Zhilan showed no mercy. She treated Tang Yuxin, not as her own daughter, but as her archenemy.

After she had tired herself out, it was then that she hurried to find Wei Tian, to check on their daughter, Wei Jiani, not even bothering to close the door behind her.

Tang Yuxin looked up, all she saw was emptiness. Yes, she had been waiting for this day. A day indelibly etched in her memory. The day, when she was nine years old, Wei Jiani fell ill, she was blamed, beaten up by Sang Zhilan, and left starving.

At that time, she was merely a disgusting lowly creature to the Wei Family, no better than a dog.

The worth of her life was less than a single strand of Wei Jiani’s hair.

She touched her arm – it was a burning pain. There were things she had forgotten, but one thing she could never forget was the pain inflicted by Sang Zhilan.

She looked up at the calendar on the wall – an old-fashioned one with red numbers.

She walked to the door, shut it with a slam, then, head bowed, she left.

She walked with her own feet from afternoon till dusk, under a bridge where she found a place to sit. The early autumn wind was chilly and the temperature had begun to drop.

The wind brushed against her face, seeming to take away the scorching pain, yet the pain still lingered on her body.

She hugged her knees, not shedding a single tear.

She was waiting for someone.

Someone who would appear on this day, a stranger whose face and name she had forgotten.

A young boy spent the night with her, giving her his clothes. He carried her on his back, searching for food and water, and took her home. To this day, she only remembered that he was a young boy, forgetting everything else.

She hugged her arms, her small red lips tightly pursed.

She knew that right now, Sang Zhilan and Wei Tian were at the hospital taking care of their daughter. Whether she lived or died did not matter to them. Hadn’t they intended to half kill her, a mere nine-year-old, and leave her to her fate?

She had to endure the dual torment of physical and psychological pain.

She had forgotten how she survived her previous life, yet she still remembered their cold faces and hatred, which made her remember the pain for the rest of her life.

She embraced her legs, her head almost buried between her knees.

Her face hurt, her whole body throbbed. The wind occasionally blew against her body, drying any sweat on her skin. She felt lonely, scared, and frightened.

Although she had grown up, although she was not really nine years old, although she had already lived a lifetime.

But people instinctively fear the darkness. They might get used to loneliness, but they can never get used to the fear that loneliness brings.

There seemed to be footsteps coming from afar. She slowly lifted her head, and there stood a boy of about fifteen or sixteen. He was tall—probably about 1.7 meters—and his face, though young, was filled with determination.

He was wearing a simple coat and trousers. She didn’t know why he was there, but he appeared right at that spot.

Tang Yuxin sniffed. He had appeared again. This time, she could clearly see his face under the dim streetlight. His features were young, yet resilient.

The boy took off his coat and draped it over Tang Yuxin.

He then gently touched her face.

“Does it hurt?”

Tang Yuxin sniffed again, and shook her head. Then she stared at him under the dim streetlight, memorizing his face for the first time.

He had long, slender eyes. His features were not particularly outstanding when viewed separately, but when combined, they were incredibly harmonious. She thought that he’d look handsome in a suit when he grew up, like Mr. Gu.

His face seemed somewhat familiar, but she couldn’t quite place it.

The boy rolled up Tang Yuxin’s sleeve, revealing her little arm, bruised and swelling. Some of them were blue, some were oozing blood.

Then he rolled up her trouser leg and noticed similar injuries.

“Who hit you?” The boy helped Tang Yuxin up. Tang Yuxin was small, only nine years old, and smaller than the average child of her age. Last time, the boy had carried Tang Yuxin on his back, walking for a long time before they found food. By the time Tang Yuxin woke up, she was already at the door of the Wei’s house.

If possible, she never wanted to return to that hellish place in her lifetime.

Tang Yuxin blinked, clutching the clothes of the boy. This garment had been with her for a long time, serving as a blanket and a pillow in her dark and cramped doghouse, losing its initial smell that belonged to the teen.

The boy stopped, looked at the little girl with half of her face swollen.

“Tell me, who hit you?” Who had beaten a child to this state? Who would be so heartless? He had thought his father was ruthless, capable of beating him to death. But upon seeing the girl, he realized what it truly meant to be beaten brutally.