Chapter 11 Orphanage

“Xiao Xiao, I’ll have to trouble you to send me home again,” Mo Ran said after they’d reached an agreement, feeling a strange unease in his heart as he made his farewells once more.

“No rush. I want to take you somewhere first.” Xiao Xiao smiled at his words. “After all, we’ve been through life and death together—surely you’re not embarrassed by something so trivial?” It was a testament to her upbringing among the elite; with just a few words, she effortlessly swept away the awkwardness that had begun to bloom between them.

“This isn’t the way back to my place, is it? Isn’t this the road to the orphanage?” Mo Ran asked, eyeing the familiar scenery with some suspicion.

“That’s right. Since we’re out, let’s take a look. The orphanage has been nicely renovated. This is the result you won with your own dignity and the rest of your life,” Xiao Xiao replied with a smile. This was what she most admired about him.

In an age of materialism, people who, like Mo Ran, understand gratitude, know how to repay kindness, and are willing to sacrifice their dignity and future for the sake of the orphanage that raised them for over twenty years, are rare indeed.

Such an act is admirable in any context. It was one of the reasons Xiao Xiao chose to help him. As for the others, only she herself knew.

As they conversed, Little Pineapple rolled to a stop before the orphanage where Mo Ran had grown up. The sight of the newly built walls and gate left him almost unable to recognize the place.

“Come, have a look. This is what your sacrifice bought—a million for this brand new orphanage. Was it worth it?” Xiao Xiao parked by the curb, gesturing at the building with a bright smile.

“It was worth it,” Mo Ran replied, a genuine smile lighting his face. He hadn’t set foot here in three years—since he’d agreed to become the Su family’s live-in son-in-law in exchange for the money to save the orphanage. Now, standing before its gates, he felt both joy and a sudden timidity.

“What are you waiting for? Don’t just stand there—go see how the orphanage looks after its renovation!” Xiao Xiao urged when she saw Mo Ran hesitate by the car door.

“Oh! Right, right.” Prompted by her words, Mo Ran snapped out of his daze and strode toward the entrance.

“Is that you, Little Mo?” Before he even reached the gate, the security guard—now over fifty—stood up in surprise, staring at the well-dressed man before him.

“Yes, Uncle Tie, I’m back.” Seeing the familiar, gray-haired face, Mo Ran’s smile turned bittersweet. Three years had passed, and Uncle Tie’s hair had grown noticeably whiter.

“And who’s this? Your girlfriend? She sure is pretty!” Uncle Tie’s gaze shifted to Xiao Xiao, standing behind Mo Ran, her elegance and beauty immediately catching his eye.

“No, no, Uncle Tie, you’ve got the wrong idea—she’s just a friend,” Mo Ran stammered, his face flushing bright red as he hurried to clarify.

Xiao Xiao, too, blushed fiercely at the remark, her face turning crimson from her forehead to her toes. She ducked her head, unable to speak.

“Oh, my apologies!” Uncle Tie quickly recovered from their embarrassment and pressed the switch to open the automatic gate.

“It’s all right, Uncle Tie. We’ll go in ourselves,” Mo Ran said, glancing back at Xiao Xiao, intending to speak.

Unbeknownst to him, Xiao Xiao was looking at his back at the same time. Their eyes met, and a spark seemed to pass between them—gone in a flash, as both looked away after five seconds.

“Little Mo, you’re back! Come in, come in!” Just then, a familiar voice rang out, rescuing Mo Ran from his awkwardness.

“Mother Mo, what brings you here?” Seeing the white-haired woman, Mo Ran felt a pang of sorrow. She was the head of the orphanage—the mother who had raised him, though they shared no blood. That was why he bore her surname.

“As soon as Old Tie told me you were back, I hurried over. The children have just gone to bed, otherwise I wouldn’t have been able to come.” She looked at Mo Ran with all the affection of a mother.

But as she remembered how, three years ago, Mo Ran had agreed to become a live-in son-in-law for the Su family in order to keep the dilapidated orphanage running and give the children a home, her heart ached unbearably.

“Director Mo, the hard times are over. I’m here to see you now, aren’t I?” Mo Ran saw the melancholy in her eyes and knew what she was thinking. He smiled, trying to change the subject.

“Yes, yes—you’re right. Let’s not dwell on that today,” she agreed, quickly nodding. She then accompanied Mo Ran and Xiao Xiao on a walk around the orphanage.

Seeing is believing. Even though Xiao Xiao had tried to imagine the conditions in the worst possible light, nothing compared to the reality. When she saw the poor children and the bare, functional furnishings meant only to meet basic needs, her eyes reddened with emotion.

“Mother Mo, this is so much better than three years ago. At least now every child has their own bed.” After touring the dormitories, activity rooms, and washrooms, Mo Ran’s smile was heartfelt. To have traded his own life for this measure of stability for Mother Mo and the children—he had no regrets.

“Take care of yourself,” Director Mo said, grasping Mo Ran’s hand with deep meaning before he left.

“Don’t worry, Mother Mo. I’ll look after myself,” Mo Ran replied, understanding her unspoken words. He nodded and climbed into Little Pineapple.

As the red car drove off, its tail lights fading into the distance, Director Mo finally turned, her stooped figure heading back inside.

“Mother Mo, did someone visit today?” At that moment, a worn electric scooter pulled up, and a plainly dressed girl called out.

“Oh, it’s you, Mo Ya. Little Ran was just here—he only just left,” Director Mo replied, recognizing Mo Ran’s childhood friend.

“Ran was here? Why didn’t you call me sooner, Mother Mo? If I’d known, I wouldn’t have waited so patiently at the lights,” Mo Ya lamented, her regret obvious.

“Silly girl, your Ran is busy with business these days. We mustn’t take up his time,” Director Mo said, ruffling Mo Ya’s hair fondly.

“I wonder what kind of business he’s doing. He hasn’t contacted me in so long—it’s been three years. I really miss him,” Mo Ya replied, her head drooping.

“Don’t dwell on it, dear,” Director Mo said gently, her eyes reflecting a hidden sorrow. She forced herself to smile, offering comfort.

In truth, to protect Mo Ran’s reputation and spare Mo Ya and the other children—who were now old enough to understand—from undue guilt, Director Mo had hidden the truth of Mo Ran’s sacrifice. She’d simply told them that he was making money in the city and had helped renovate the orphanage.