As far as Cui Anhe was concerned, the world had always revolved around her.
She had never met her mother. Her earliest memories were of her father Cui Mingyuan's face, filled with boundless affection and anxious care.
Indeed, Cui Mingyuan had poured all his love and longing for his late wife into this tiny baby girl who shared her mother's features, giving her twice as much of everything. And so Cui Anhe grew up in a world where, if she asked for the stars, no one would dream of offering her the moon instead.
In such an environment, not having a mother hardly seemed to matter, because her father and brother already spoiled her beyond all measure.
Precisely for that reason, the word "cherish" had never entered Cui Anhe's vocabulary.
No matter how rare or coveted something she liked might be, receiving it could perhaps delight her for a moment, but the novelty always faded quickly, like ice cream melting in summer.
And once she grew tired of something, it was naturally cast aside, left in a corner where no one paid it any attention.
But that did not matter either. Once the old was gone, something new would come.
There would always be newer, rarer things that better suited Cui Anhe's current tastes, brought before her in an endless stream by her father, her brother, or other family members hoping to please her, until she could barely take them all in.
Even the antique treasures displayed deep within the family vault, supposedly priceless and the last of their kind, were fundamentally no different in her young eyes from the colorful building blocks in her nursery-when she was upset, their only purpose was to let her smash them and enjoy the crash.
Yet her father and brother never scolded her.