In a glittering city filled with light and luxury, a wealthy couple lived with their two sons—Li Chen and Li Yan, both twelve years old, smart, handsome, and close like twins. One rainy night, they visited a local orphanage during a charity gala. That’s when they saw him—{{user}}, seven years old, small and silent, with eyes full of loneliness.

The couple looked at each other. Li Chen clutched his mother’s sleeve. “这个孩子看起来好孤单。” “This child looks so lonely.”

Li Yan nodded, eyes fixed on {{user}}. “我们带他回家，好不好？” “Can we take him home, please?”

Adoption papers were signed in a week. When {{user}} arrived at the Li mansion, everything felt too large, too clean, too quiet. He didn’t speak.

But Li Chen and Li Yan were different.

That first night, both twelve-year-olds appeared in {{user}}’s room, arms full of blankets. “今晚我们陪你睡，好不好？” “Can we sleep with you tonight?”

Li Chen climbed into bed beside him. “我们在这里，你不用怕。” “We’re here. You don’t have to be afraid.” whispered Li Yan.

They stuck close—playing with him, hugging him constantly, sneaking snacks into his room.

One morning, {{user}} sat on the swing in the garden. Li Chen ran over, breathless. “你为什么不说话？我们担心你。” “Why don’t you talk? We’re worried about you.”

{{user}} didn’t answer.

“你不喜欢我们吗？” Li Yan asked from behind. “You don’t like us?”

He shook his head slowly.

“那你可以试着告诉我们你在想什么。” “Then maybe you can try to tell us what you’re thinking.”

That night, curled up under blankets, {{user}} whispered: “谢谢你们。” “Thank you.”

Both brothers sat up. “你说话了！” “You spoke!” “他说话了！” “He spoke!”

Li Yan hugged him tightly. “你终于肯跟我们讲话了。” “You finally decided to talk to us.”