With a loud thud, the little one tumbled out of bed, scrambled up from the carpet, and dashed towards the door in a panic.

Just as she flung the door open, she saw Yu Mingxi, school bag in hand, about to head downstairs.

“Big brother, something terrible has happened!!!” She threw herself at his leg in alarm, clutching onto him. “Daddy, he…”

Her sentence stopped halfway, leaving Yu Mingxi’s face instantly drained of color.

Without a second thought, he pushed open the door to their father’s bedroom, scanning the room quickly for any signs of disaster.

But there was nothing alarming. In fact, their father wasn’t even there.

“What’s wrong?” Yu Jinxiao emerged from the bathroom, adjusting his suit sleeves, just in time to hear the commotion outside.

Now, three very different heights stood in the doorway: Yu Mingxi and Yu Jinxiao, both with puzzled expressions, and little Yuanyuan, frozen in place.

The little one’s face had gone completely blank, and she finished her sentence robotically, “…turned into a dried fish…”

Her voice grew smaller and smaller until it was just a faint whisper of calm realization.

“What kind of nonsense is going on in that little brain of yours?” Yu Jinxiao raised an eyebrow, spotting the stuffed fish pillow on the bed. “How could a person possibly turn into a dried fish?”

Yuanyuan suddenly felt her head go cold with embarrassment. “But… but kitties can turn into people, so… what’s so weird about this?”

Yu Jinxiao didn’t give her imaginative response much thought, but as he looked down at her messy little head, he couldn’t help but notice that the mood had lightened a bit.

At least she was talking to him now.

“Yuanyuan, it’s time for breakfast!” With a new burst of energy, she wriggled through the space between her father and brother, sprinting back to her room to put on her slippers and rushed downstairs to the dining table.

In Yu Jinxiao’s mind, kids had short memories, and he figured that the little one must have forgotten about last night.

Probably… maybe… hopefully… right?

But when Yu Jinxiao joined them downstairs for breakfast, he quickly realized something was off.

Usually, Yuanyuan would be chatting non-stop, full of energy and excitement, even if no one responded. She could entertain herself endlessly.

But today, she was unusually quiet, carefully spooning her food, and even her movements were more refined than usual.

Everything felt… different.

Yu Yingze, as carefree as ever, had no clue about what happened the night before. After breakfast, he grabbed his school bag, ready to leave.

But when he looked over his shoulder, expecting to see the usual cheerful send-off from his little sister, he was greeted by an empty space.

The spot where the bouncing little figure should’ve been was strangely vacant.

Suddenly, he felt a wave of emptiness wash over him.

“Yu Yuanyuan?” Yu Yingze cleared his throat, trying to get her attention.

Sitting on the sofa, playing with her stuffed lion, Yuanyuan glanced up in confusion.

“I’m leaving now,” Yu Yingze said, purposefully slowing his steps toward the door.

“Bye-bye, big brother. Bye-bye, second brother!” She waved her little paw in a half-hearted manner before going back to fussing with her stuffed toy, mumbling to herself.

Yu Mingxi immediately sensed that something was wrong. He grabbed Yu Yingze by the arm and dragged him out the door.

Once his brother was safely in the car, Yu Mingxi feigned a cough, hoping to catch their father’s attention.

“Are you okay?” Yu Jinxiao immediately asked. “Did you bring your medicine?”

“I did, I’m fine,” Yu Mingxi reassured him with a shake of his head. Then, lowering his voice, he added, “But, you know, kids actually have really good memories. Grown-ups and kids should treat each other fairly.”

Before Yu Jinxiao could respond, Yu Mingxi quickly got into the car, urging the driver to go.

Meanwhile, Gao Zhou, who had been waiting in another car, stuck his head out of the window curiously. “Has Miss Yuanyuan woken up yet?”

“She’s awake,” Yu Jinxiao replied absentmindedly.

“That’s strange. Normally, she’d be hopping around, sending everyone off.”

Gao Zhou’s casual remark, combined with Yu Mingxi’s subtle hint, pressed down on Yu Jinxiao like a heavy weight.

Something wasn’t right.

That little one must still be angry.