Chapter One: The Beautiful Girl

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, her slender neck extending gracefully as she turned to him. The boy’s cheeks flushed, his eyes brimming with hope and sincerity. She offered him a gentle smile, dimples appearing on her cheeks—as she was about to speak, someone interrupted.

“Jiujiu, the director wants to see you.”

A hint of surprise crossed her face. “Alright, I’ll go right away. Thank you.” She turned apologetically to the boy who had been waiting so patiently. “Sorry, Nannan, the director’s looking for me so I can’t play with you all right now. Have fun, okay?”

Her face was warm with a gentle, apologetic smile, her voice soft and pleasant, her manner so mild and considerate it put others at ease.

“Jiujiu is so sweet and gentle,” thought the boy called Nannan. “It wasn’t even her fault, but she’s so thoughtful to apologize.” He replied even more quietly, “It’s alright, Jiujiu. We can play next time. Go to the director first. Bye-bye.”

She smiled again, her expression as radiant as sunlight breaking through dark clouds—a smile that lingered in the mind long after she'd gone. “Bye-bye!” she called, turning toward the director’s office, her slender figure bathed in sunlight, her silhouette seeming to glow.

As she turned away, a knowing, meaningful smile appeared on her lips. How wonderful—everything was different now. In her previous life, she’d never received such kindness.

Yes, the girl had been reborn. In her past life, at this very moment, she had just lost her parents and had been sent to the orphanage. Unable to accept that her parents had died before her eyes, she couldn’t adapt quickly to her new environment and cried and threw tantrums constantly. The director did her best to comfort her, but nothing helped. Over time, the other children grew to resent her, seeing her as stealing the director’s affection and the love that should have been theirs. They disliked her, bullied her in secret, and insulted her without restraint. She suffered terribly back then.

At first, she would complain to the director, but after the director scolded the bullies, their torment only grew worse. Gradually, fear and numbness took over—she no longer dared to speak up or resist, and endured everything in silence.

Only when her mother’s best friend took her in did she escape that misery. There, she had the gentle care of her brother Mu Zichen and the respect of her Third Uncle, Mu Tingye… Her thoughts drifted, her gaze growing tender.

Suddenly, her expression shifted: all thanks to her “dear friend” Lin Yuexin, who turned them against her, drawing them into her ex-boyfriend’s camp until they became enemies. Not just them, but the leader of the Xi Cang Sect, Mo Ziyuan, and the school idol Cheng Yanran—all fell at her feet, without exception. Was this the so-called heroine’s halo? In her past life, she’d been timid and meek, never harboring malice, yet Lin Yuexin stole her only support and ultimately caused her to die a miserable death. How unfair.

Why did her only support have to be taken from her? Why did the world revolve around someone else? Why was fate so unjust? She, too, wanted to know what it felt like to be the heroine, to be the cherished one in everyone’s eyes, to be the unattainable white moonlight of so many successful men. After all, this was just a fictional world—and didn’t she have a system of her own?

Thinking of this, the girl’s smile grew even softer, as if remembering something delightful.

“Knock, knock, knock. Director, I’m here,” she called, gently tapping on the door.

“Jiujiu, come in,” the director replied, opening the door with a face full of warmth. She looked at the girl, her mind filled with thoughts. Before, Jiujiu had locked herself away in her own world, unable to move past her trauma. No one could reach her. But now, she was different—gentle, pure, understanding… What a good child. The director wondered if Jiujiu could help Ziyuan, too. With a sigh, she let the thought pass.

“Jiujiu,” the director said, crouching to meet her gaze, “I have something to ask of you. We have a new boy here, Mo Ziyuan. He’s an orphan, just rescued from traffickers, and he’s having a hard time. He doesn’t like to interact with others. I know you’re very kind—could you look after him when I’m not around?”

“Of course, Director,” Jiujiu nodded obediently, her face serious as if accepting an important mission. In her heart, though, she was thinking: I was just worrying about how to approach the future leader of Xi Cang Sect—what a perfect opportunity.

The orphanage’s backyard had only a few trees, and in the open space stood a slide and a swing set for the children. The breeze seemed to sneak by, unwilling to witness what was happening.

“Murderer! Murderer!”

“Why did you come here?”

“We don’t want to live with a murderer.”

Though only six or seven years old—an age of innocence—their words were cruel and venomous.

The “murderer” they spoke of had just been shoved to the ground. His pale hands pressed against the earth, his skin scratched by scattered stones.

The girl looked up, studying the face of the boy she’d never seen clearly in her past life. At seven, Mo Ziyuan was thin and small, wearing a faded gray T-shirt whose collar hung loosely off one shoulder, revealing protruding collarbones. His cheeks were pale, his chin sharp, and his large, dark eyes gazed expressionlessly at the children tormenting him.

This was the boy who, in this fictional world, would one day become the fearsome leader of the Xi Cang Sect—Mo Ziyuan. Gifted with extraordinary intelligence, ruthless strength, and an iron will, he would become a figure no one dared defy.

But now, he was just a pitiful child who had lost his parents and been sold into captivity. Because of his striking looks, he’d been taken by traffickers and sold to an old man with twisted desires, who watched him day and night, waiting for him to grow up. One day, the man was found dead in his villa’s basement, the cause mysterious—even the police couldn’t solve it. The old man’s crime—imprisoning a child—was clear, so the police dropped the case. But because of this incident, Mo Ziyuan was ostracized at the orphanage.

Afterward, he would carve out his place in the world with his own fists, and, by chance, meet Lin Yuexin and fall in love at first sight. Fall in love at first sight? The girl smiled to herself. What if childhood companionship outweighed that fleeting moment?