In her previous life, Wei Jiujou was timid, naive, and lacked cunning. After the heroine Lin Yuexin stole several important men from her side, she met a tragic end because of her and died. By chance,
The brilliant spring sunlight pierced through the clouds, filtering between the leaves and layers of mist, casting gentle beams onto the orphanage. The radiant sunshine felt like the warm, tender hand of a young mother, softly caressing the girl sitting beneath the tree, absorbed in her book.
She had an oval face and fair, luminous skin, her eyes exceptionally clear and pure. Her nose was delicate and upturned, sitting above lips of perfect fullness—an undeniably exquisite face for a child of about five or six years old. Despite her tender age, her beauty was striking. Her lips curled in a subtle, gentle smile, her expression innocent and serene, and her long, glossy black hair draped smoothly down her back.
Even though she wore a simple white cotton dress, slightly yellowed from repeated washing, she seemed to radiate her own soft glow—warm and gentle, just like the feeling she gave to those around her. Wherever she was, she exuded an invisible charm that drew others in.
The scene was so lovely that even the rowdy children nearby instinctively lowered their voices, afraid to disturb the angelic figure before them. Though they were too young to articulate what they felt, they knew it was beautiful—so beautiful they couldn’t take their eyes away. They longed to play with this enchanting girl.
One fair-skinned boy finally mustered the courage to step forward. Shy and hesitant, he walked up to her and asked softly, “Jiujiu, would you like to play with us?” His voice trembled with nerves and anticipation.
At his words, the girl lifted her head,