For Adopted Daughter, Parents Kicked Me & Brother Out—The Truth Revealed, But Regret Came Too Late!

With their bare feet slapping the cold cobblestones, Little Hua, 10, held her brother Xiao Chow’s hand as they navigated the winding, fog-shrouded alleys of old Shanghai, which smelt of fish and fear.

Their parents had been engulfed in flames three nights prior due to a loud car explosion on the rain-soaked highway—screams cut short, metal twisted like screams frozen in time. “Accident,” the police said. Family members slammed doors and muttered “curse”. “There are too many mouths to feed!” Uncle Li spat.

With the baby on her hip, Aunt Mei turned away. The siblings were abandoned, orphaned, and heartbroken, like the family photo that was now burnt in Hua’s pocket. They were ghosts in their own city.

Under a flickering streetlamp, Hua whispered to Chow, “Mom’s like grass without soil,” as their dirt-streaked faces were carved clean by tears. “Her roots are essential.”

Chow, eight, nodded while holding a rumpled birthday card for Shinshing, their younger sister who was adopted by the wealthy Wongs after being split up at birth. Tomorrow is her party. cakes. lanterns. We’ll locate her, followed by Mom and Dad.

Scarface, the pockmarked thug with the glint of gold teeth, was looming. Kids, are you hungry? Take for me—jewels tomorrow, bread today. I’ll provide your parents with hints.

Like smoke, his voice slithered. Hope flickered desperately. “Agreement?” Chow enquired. Scarface smiled. “Cross my heart.”

The entire town was illuminated by Shinshing’s birthday, with the Wong mansion ablaze with silk banners, red lanterns, and gold-dripping laughter. Enviously twisting their knives, Hua and Chow peered through iron gates. “We forgot our birthdays,” Chow cried, his stomach rumbling.

Inside, oblivious to siblings’ hollow-eyed gazes, seven-year-old Shinshing (now Shiaoa) blew out candles on a five-tier cake.

That night, Scarface pushed harder: “Rich house. An emerald necklace worth a fortune was found in the mistress’s drawer. Get your family trail and steal it.

Moonlight slicing marble floors, they crept through servant gates, hearts thumping like war drums. Hua’s tiny fingers shook as they touched the jewel box—click. Like banshees, alarms screamed! The lights came on. The guards rushed. “Thieves!” Mr Wong screamed while flapping his silk robe.

The siblings flinched as they were caught in the grand hall, with chandeliers swinging and Shiaoa yelling from the stairs. “We’re not bad!” Hua exclaimed.

Looking for my sister, mother, and father! Pearls clutched, Mrs Wong sneered, “Lies! ‘Beggars on the street!’” However, Shiaoa froze, gazing into Hua’s mirror-like eyes. “You… resemble me?”

There was anarchy. Cowardly, Scarface ran out the side doors. Police sirens sounded. “Orphans? Burglary? Officers made a demand. Mr Wong yelled for incarceration. Hua knelt down and said, “Shiaoa is our sister

The wrist has the same birthday scar! A tiny crescent mark appeared on her sleeve as she rolled it. Shiaoa rolled hers in a similar gasp.

Like lightning, a flashback storm struck. Their real mother, who was in extreme poverty and whose husband was ill, abandoned Shiaoa at Wong Gate years ago with the note, “Give her a better life.”

Mei-Ling, love. She was raised as an heir by the Wongs. However, jealousy grew as a result of Aunt Wong’s brutality in confining Shiaoa to rooms for “disobedience” and Mrs Wong’s resentment of her own infertility.

The hall erupted in confrontation. Mrs Wong gave Shiaoa a forceful slap, saying, “You’re mine! Not theirs! Shiaoa’s lip dripped blood. “You hit me!” she yelled. Call me a burden! A true mother wouldn’t! She ran to Chow and Hua and gave them a fierce hug while crying. “Sisters? My brother? Don’t abandon me!

When police dug deep, they discovered explosion records: Mom’s old box contained a hidden will that showed the parents were dead. Uncle Li’s greed prevented the children from inheriting the fortune from the small fabric shop. Scarface, a real jewel thief who uses orphans as pawns, was arrested blocks away.

Headlines shouted: Orphan Siblings Storm Mansion—Lost Heirs Found? Court drama rocked the city. In a crowded courtroom, the Wongs contested custody. “We provided luxury—silk, schools!” Mr Wong quarrelled.

Shiaoa, however, testified in a voice that broke: “They locked me nights and said I was ‘charity Strike with belts.” Siblings reunited under a neutral guardian—Aunt Lin, distant kin,” the judge said with a slam of his gavel.

Hugs beneath cherry blossoms—crying uncontrollably. Hua muttered, “Family again.” However, there were still shadows—dreams were haunted by Mom’s abandonment. “Why leave me?” Shiaoa screamed as she woke up. “She wanted you safe,” Chow said as he held her.

Years of hardship ensued, with a small guardian home and limited funds. “Unnatural family,” the neighbours murmured. Then Hannah came in—40, childless, divorced from her husband after unsuccessful IVF attempts, and described as “broken”. At the market, she noticed the children: Shiaoa singing for money, Chow protecting, and Hua selling scarves. My heart broke.

Hannah pleaded with the court, “Let me adopt you all.” Judge paused, saying, “Five? You’re by yourself. “Love is not blood,” Hannah said proudly. It’s a decision. Accepted. She added Juliana and Justina, twins who were orphaned in a flood.

Battles raged—Hannah taught days and cleaned offices at night. Bills were piling up. Snobs sneered, “Charity case!” For books, Sharon (Hua) forwent meals. Lily (Shiaoa) kicked soccer balls while wearing no shoes. Twins cared for ailing neighbours. Deborah performed for bread in churches.

Hannah’s promise: “Have big dreams. I’ll carry you. She baked for bake sales, sewed uniforms, and smiled for them while crying alone.

Against all odds, bloom: Sharon is the CEO of Fabric Empire, a shop that has grown in wealth. Lily, a professional football player, scored a goal in the World Cup. Juliana, a paediatrician, and Justina, a surgeon, are the twins’ best nurses. Deborah’s voice is healing nations; she is a Grammy singer at night and a lawyer by day.

Hannah’s secret plan for her 60th birthday. She was blindfolded to hills by her daughters. “Astonishment!” Unveiled: a mansion with marble, gardens, and rooms for everyone. “For you, Mom—the one who gave us wings.”

The tears came. Then there was a lavish wedding with vows under the stars, all five dressed in white, and love at altars. “My girls,” Hannah said as she walked each one.

Halls will soon be filled with laughter as six grandchildren arrive. Books and conversations spread Hannah’s story: “Family’s hearts joined, not born.”

One woman’s decision changed five lives, from alley ashes to mansion love.

Miracles are created by love.