Ever since he was a child, Li Hao felt that his cousin Wang Xinran was like an unattainable ray of light. She was beautiful, born into a privileged family, and the "perfect child" everyone admired. Meanwhile, Li Hao came from an ordinary working-class family, with little to boast about in his life.

Whenever he visited Wang Xinran's house as a child, awkward incidents always seemed to happen. One of the most vivid memories was when Wang Xinran's mother asked her to share some snacks with him.

"Xinran, don't eat it all by yourself. Share some with your little cousin," her mother said with a smile.

"No!" Xinran frowned, holding tightly to her snacks.

"Why not?" her mother asked, her brows furrowed.

"Why should I? His family is so poor, they've never bought me anything. Why do I have to share with him?" Xinran retorted, her tone unapologetic.

Standing awkwardly to the side, Li Hao forced a smile, though the humiliation was impossible to hide. That day, he remembered biting his lip to hold back tears, only to cry silently on the way home.

As time passed, they attended the same middle school and high school, but their relationship remained distant, far from the warmth one might expect between cousins. Xinran never acknowledged him at school, and if someone asked about him, she would sneer, "How could I possibly know someone like him?"

Despite his efforts to close the gap between them, Li Hao couldn't escape Xinran's disdain and rejection. One day, he asked her, "Why do you hate me so much?"

"Because you're adopted," she said coldly, her tone laced with contempt.

He froze. His parents had always treated him well, never hinting at such a thing. He refused to believe it, shouting, "You're lying! That's not true!"

"Go home and ask your parents, you little stray," Xinran mocked before turning and walking away.

That night, Li Hao cried as he confronted his parents about Xinran's words. Though they hastily comforted him, insisting it was nonsense, the flicker of unease in their expressions stayed with him.

Eventually, the truth came out—Xinran's words were true.

In high school, they were placed in the same class. While others might have considered this a stroke of luck, for Li Hao, it was a nightmare. Xinran not only pretended not to know him but often led others to isolate him.

During a class activity, Li Hao accidentally brushed against Xinran's elbow. She recoiled dramatically, brushing off her sleeve as if she'd touched something dirty.

"Stay away from me," she said, her voice cold as ice, her words stabbing into him.

Li Hao didn't reply, lowering his head and walking away. He had tried to reach out to her, to understand her indifference, but every attempt ended in deeper wounds.

One day, Li Hao's mother asked him to deliver something to Xinran's house. Though the two families lived close, Li Hao had avoided going there ever since the "adopted" incident.

He knocked on their door for a while before Xinran's mother finally answered, her hands covered in soap suds.

"Oh, Haohao, you're here! Xinran's in her room. Why didn't she come to open the door?" she said with a hint of exasperation.

"Xinran, your little brother's here! Why didn't you open the door?"

The house was eerily quiet. Xinran didn't respond. Li Hao forced a polite smile. "It's okay, Auntie. She's probably busy. I'll just leave the stuff here and head back."

"No, don't leave so soon. I haven't seen you around much lately. I even asked your parents if you and Xinran had a falling out. Come in and sit for a bit. I'll finish the laundry quickly, and I have something for you to take back," she insisted, heading back to the bathroom.

The living room was uncomfortably silent. The TV was off, and the table was scattered with books and headphones. Li Hao sat down on the couch, fiddling with his phone, but a faint, unusual noise from Xinran's room caught his attention.

He hesitated. Xinran clearly didn't like him, and barging in would only provoke her. But the sound unsettled him, and out of concern, he eventually pushed the door open.

Xinran whipped around at the sound of the door opening, her face flashing with panic. She was sitting at her computer, hurriedly trying to close a webpage.

"What are you doing in here?" she snapped, her voice filled with embarrassment and anger, her eyes avoiding his.

"I heard a noise. I thought something happened…" His voice trailed off. Her disdain was palpable, making him feel like an intruder in her world.

"Get out!" Xinran stood abruptly, her voice icy as she hastily adjusted her skirt, her cheeks flushed red.

Li Hao froze, his gaze unintentionally landing on the floor. A small pink object lay there, seemingly out of place. He bent down to pick it up without thinking.

Before he could get a good look, Xinran lunged at him, trying to snatch it away. "Don't touch that! Give it back!" she demanded, her voice trembling.

Li Hao tightened his grip on the object, piecing together what it might be. A complex mix of emotions surged within him. Why did someone who treated him like trash suddenly seem so flustered and vulnerable?

"What is this?" he asked coldly, a hint of vindication in his tone.

"None of your business!" Xinran shoved him, desperately reaching for it. Her frantic movements nearly caused her to fall. Kneeling on the ground, she looked up at him, her eyes filled with humiliation, anger, and a faint trace of helplessness.

"You've always looked down on me, haven't you? Well, what about now? Are you brave enough to tell your mom what you were doing in here?" His voice was low, carrying a sharp edge of mockery.

"Li Hao…" Xinran bit her lip, tears threatening to fall. "Please, give it back." Her usual arrogance had vanished, replaced by an uncharacteristic plea.

Li Hao stared at her, feeling no satisfaction in this moment. This scene, her desperate expression, made him realize that perhaps her coldness and scorn had always been a mask for something deeper.

Without another word, he placed the object on the table and turned to leave. "You don't need to pretend. I won't tell your mom."

Xinran remained kneeling, clutching the object tightly as she watched his silhouette disappear through the doorway. She bit her lip, her gaze conflicted, and eventually sighed, closing the door behind him.