In the scorching month of June, a humble orphanage in S City welcomed its first eminent guest since its establishment. The reputation of the Ye family had already reached overseas, and after months of contentious discussions over inheritance, the curtain finally fell with the discreet return of the rightful heir.

A restive public, a volatile stock price, these public philanthropic activities were indispensable.

Located on the third floor, the only two young female college student volunteers in the orphanage peered out of the window. They were enamored by the array of stretched luxury cars parked at the corner of the street. Uniformly black, elegant yet understated, they easily displayed the affluence of their owner.

And then there were the tenacious journalists, sweating profusely under the sweltering heat. But none of them were willing to move an inch, clutching their camera equipment, aiming fearfully at the rusty gates, lest they miss anything momentous.

The two college student volunteers tired of the commotion outside ran towards the small playground in the orphanage. A charity ceremony had just concluded and they could hear the children's jubilant voices from a distance. It had indeed been a long time since the orphanage had been this lively.

Instead of their regular twice-a-week volunteer service, they were more curious about the appearance of the new successor of the Ye family. In three months, the media had not caught even a blurry side profile of him. At the age of sixteen, with his immeasurable wealth, his mental state must surely differ from those of his age.

On the green lawn, the director of the orphanage and the sponsors of the charity were handing out candies to the children. The orphanage was downright rudimentary with tables of uneven heights used for placing supplies—it was a pitiful sight. On the crumbling brick wall behind the tables, a red banner welcoming the donors was hung.

The handsome young man remained on the outskirts of the festive atmosphere. His bold yet slightly slender figure was outlined by the blazing sunshine. He exuded a chilly aura that seemed impossible to warm up, as if all of this didn't concern him.

"Young Master." The elderly butler called him anxiously, pushing a handful of candies into his hand. His eyes hinted that the press was about to enter. This was his first public appearance—if his indifferent attitude continued...

The young man nodded slightly and lifted his dark eyes to the most noisy spot where the candies were being distributed. The innocent and radiant smiles made him resist instinctively.

It seemed like he was struggling for a while and then, giving up on joining them, his gaze landed on a banyan tree in another spot. A little girl wearing a cotton floral dress entered his field of vision.

She sat neatly under the shade on a low stool. Her eyes were particularly bright, as if they had absorbed all the sparkling sunlight, shining and looking around. She sat there, neither coming over nor moving, only watching as though she was an outsider observing a play.

The young man seemed to ponder for a while before walking over to her. He towered over her, looking down at her high handedly. In contrast, she tilted her head up and met his gaze without blinking.

In front of him, she was merely a tiny little thing, yet her clear eyes showed no trace of fear, nor expectation. She was the only child who didn't rush over to grab the candies and join the commotion.

How unusual...

"Do you want some?" His hand stretched out, open in front of her, with bright red and green candies close to her eyes.

The little girl doesn't even have an expression, even cooler than him. She calmly shook her head.

He has not been rejected in a long time. His cold face finally showed some emotions, and he asked in surprise, "Why?"

On the young girl's innocent face, her faint eyebrows crinkled. She said, "Candies are not available every day. It's better not to eat them at all. Then there will be no cravings."

No cravings, no attachment.

The candies that can only be tasted occasionally, once placed in front of her, became a sin.

If you like something, but you can’t have it whenever you want, it’s better not to have it at all. Similarly, things you can't keep tightly in your grasp are better not to be desired.

Is that right?

The kid's words surprised the teenager. The unexpected depth of her statement caught him off guard. The large, bright eyes stared at him without blinking, unsubsiding, yet posed a question as if she was challenging him. The mischievous spark in her eyes was undeniable.

It seemed as if she knowingly posed a challenging question and found amusement in his struggle for an answer, undoubtedly to make him feel awkward and guilty.

Such a naughty child!

Noticing her playful intent, a barely detectable smile crept onto the handsome face of the teenager. He did not retract his hand that was offering the candy, squatted down and looked at her at eye level. A nearly extravagant smile appeared on his face, asking in a seductive tone, "Are you sure you don't want it?"

She shook her head again, refusing outright.

"What's your name?" He asked, a rare move from the norm, never having taken the initiative to approach anyone.

The tiny tot looked at him, her gaze shifting slightly, and said, "If I tell you now, can you promise you'll remember?" Without waiting for an answer, she added, "You're not here every day, why are you asking my name?"

A hint of amusement was added to the young man's smile. His smile was truly beautiful, and when his eyes curved at the edges, they were as deep as a peach blossom-infused pond. "How do you know I won't come every day?"

"I just know." The chubby-faced little girl bore an expression of troublemaking, denying any decorum to today’s visiting philanthropist.

No further explanation was needed; the little girl was a long-time resident here, abandoned at the door before she was a month old. As long as she could remember, the courtyard had the occasional visitor with an intention of adoption, and disappointed children rarely saw visitors hoping to please them. Some kids were happily adopted and taken home, the despair of those left behind... have you ever noticed it?

Even if they were adopted, there were many cases of children being returned if they were not satisfactory. So in her innocent eyes, whether the boy knew her name wasn't so important.

But this esteemed guest stubbornly insisted, stood up, and took a sideways glance at the butler who was by his side. The intuitive old butler understood at once, 'I'll ask the dean immediately.'

Before he had time to turn around, the tiny tot became anxious, glaring at the boy like an adult, mumbling her dissatisfaction, 'Why must you trouble me...' Deliberately seeking my disappointment!

'Because you don't eat my candy, it makes me unhappy.' He declared righteously.

Isn't this... the legendary bullying of a child?

The tiny tot, with her short legs, stood up discontentedly, took a piece of candy from his hand, stripped off the wrapper in front of him and put the nearly melted candy into her mouth.

The boy was satisfied, revealing his mischievous smile, and asked warmly, "Is it sweet?"

"It's not sweet!" The child pouted.

"Why isn't it sweet?" He was indeed persistent.

"Because I'm not happy!" Her voice got louder and louder, indicating that she might lose her temper with the boy, but he only smiled, seemingly enjoying her expressions.

However, the old butler beside the boy was anxious. Reporters were about to come in for photoshoots. If the young master upset this little girl and made her cry, tomorrows headline will be the young master of the Ye family's first public appearance leaving a bad impression on the public.

"What will make you happy?"

He asked patiently. Without responding, the girl heard the commotion from the entrance of the garden.

The media for photography was here, but the young master of the Ye family was completely fixated on a little girl.

Basking under the sunlight, his tall silhouette felt warm, yet not blinding. He watched as the petite girl in front of him reluctantly chewed and swallowed the candy that was in her mouth, displaying a demeanor of contempt towards him. Out of his peripheral vision, he glanced at the flock of reporters congregating towards them, his eyes already formulating a meticulous plan.

"You're not happy, are you?" He questioned her, slightly annoyed that even after giving her a sweet, she wasn't appeased. "If I manage to make you happy, will you tell me your name?"

She said nothing, her brows raised silently as if signifying an ambiguous agreement.

The young man smirked, letting out a soft chuckle, bending down to effortlessly lift the petite girl high into the air. She shrieked in surprise, her eyes widening and mouth falling open in surprise. However, her startled exclamations were easily drowned out by the sudden swarm of bystanders.

"Mr. Ye, this is your first public appearance since returning to S-city, a charity event to mold a good image?" A reporter asked.

"Mr. Ye, there are so many orphanages in S-City. What is the main reason for choosing Anna Orphanage?" Another chimed in.

"For the past few months, the Ye family has been hogging the headlines of all major newspapers and magazines. How did you earn the approval of shareholders and the family?"

"We heard there are many objections to your inheritance of the Ye family. What plans do you have to deal with it?"

"Your young uncle has never acknowledged you as Ye Xiao's child. What is your opinion on this?"

One question after another filled the air. Each one sharper and more provocative, yet the young master of the Ye family ignored them all, his focus solely on the plain-looking little girl in his arms. The young girl showed no sign of stage fright, unlike other kids who might have been easily scared off by the spectacle.

She was biting her finger, looking up at the young man holding her. She found it strange that he, who didn't seem much older to her, should be treated so oddly by these people. After all, the people interviewed on TV were all celebrities! And "Mr." was how you addressed seniors. In a short while alone, she felt that this person was quite powerful, very important, and terribly remarkable, even if he didn't show it.

Yet, in a few years, faced with the same situation, she would only throw him a sidelong glance and flippantly roll out four words... "putting on an act."

Those reporters were far from willing to be ignored. Seeing the little girl raised high by the young boy, they came up with a new question, "Mr. Ye, the child in your arms does not seem to be very happy..."

"Are you planning to adopt her?"

"Isn't the Young Master of the Ye family only sixteen this year?" This voice was relatively faint, but loud enough for everyone to hear.

How they wished that the little girl would burst into tears in the next moment, better yet with tear-stained cheeks. Given their professionalism, their friends in the media would surely capture that scene perfectly, making it the headline for tomorrow, to coin something like 'Young Master Ye fails to cope, makes orphan cry in the orphanage'.

To let you know that journalists are the least likely creatures on earth to be messed with. We're not keen on you either!

The young boy, however, stubbornly refused to meet their eyes, smiling at the little one lifted high above his head, asking her, "If I take you home, you'll be able to eat candy every day. Even if you tell me your name, I won't forget. Would that make you happy?"