It was the summer after senior year. In a gated mansion, a clean-cut teen hunched at his PC like a hawk over prey. “Penta! My penta!” he shouted, and the speakers chimed in perfect sync, “PentaKill!” A young voice crackled in his headset, bright as soda fizz. “Nice, Wu Hao, we can turn this around!”
A few minutes later, Wu Hao tore off the headset and sat there gulping air, like he’d run through rain. “Whew, that was brutal. Finally won.” He wiped at sweat that wasn’t there, a gesture like chasing a ghost.
“Shower time. Why do I feel woozy all over? This sucks.” He pushed open the door like pushing open heat haze. “Uncle Wu, tell the nanny to set out my clothes. I’m taking a shower!”
“No problem, young master. Please go wash first. I’ll have the nanny place them on the stand.” The reply was smooth as polished wood.
In the bathroom, his head swam harder, like a boat caught in a sleepy whirl. “Damn it, it was just an all-nighter. Why am I this wiped?” He cradled his skull, then twisted the tap. Cool water whooshed out like a mountain stream, splashing down his back.
“Ahhh, that’s better.” He didn’t expect what came next. A spear of pain drove up through his skull like lightning breaking a tree. “Aaaahhhh!”
He clutched his head, thoughts scattering like startled birds. What the hell now? The pain made him butt the tile, as if knocking could shake it loose. “No way! I’m not dying! I’m still a virgin!” Strength flowed out of him like sand through fingers, and he slid to the floor.
“Is this it?” Cold seeped into his bones like winter mist. Right before he blacked out, he thought he heard the nanny scream, thin as glass. “Damn…” Then the world stilled, a lake without ripples.
“So bright. What’s shining on me?” Wu Hao stirred, lifting a hand to block sunlight that felt like a blade. “Huh? A bed? I didn’t die?” He touched his face, tracing his cheek like reading Braille. “Ha, good, still here.” He patted his chest in relief, heart thudding like a drum.
“Wait. Something’s off. Why are my hands smaller?” He held them up. Two tiny, clean, jade-white hands bloomed in the light. “Don’t tell me…” His hand flew to his chest. Soft. Springy. Like two little buns under cloth.
As if to break the spell, his palm slid lower. Emptiness. A hollow where something should be. Tears prickled like spicy smoke. “Okay—how the hell did I become a girl? No! I was a virgin!”
He sat on the bed, stunned, like a deer in snowfall. “Whatever. I’m a face-over-everything guy. Looks are king. If I look like a walking disaster, how do I meet people?” The optimist in him surfaced like a cork, bobbing fast.
He bolted for the bathroom in one breath, skidding to a halt before the mirror, a silver lake. Staring back was a Little Loli of about twelve in pink pajamas, around one-fifty tall. Silk-gold hair poured over narrow shoulders and fell to a fragile, wasp-thin waist, like light spun into thread.
Two big golden eyes opened wide, bright as wet amber, surprise glittering like a secret. A pert nose, a cherry-pink mouth—one look and your fingers itched to pinch those cheeks.
“So cute. If I were still the old me… I’d have to win this Little Loli over.” He curled a pink little fist and gave it a playful pump. “Too adorable. I can’t take it…” Seeing the mirror girl mimic him, his heart felt pierced like an arrow through paper.
“Such pale skin.” He looked over himself, skin as tender and pearly as peeled lychee, begging for a touch.
“What a dangerous ball of cute.” He left the bathroom, eyes sweeping the room like a cat exploring, one finger on his small chin. “Feels a bit too delicate, but whatever. I’ll check outside first.”
He eased open the door. A not-so-big living room spread out like a clean stage. “Not bad. Doesn’t look poor. Otherwise, hard pass.”
He drifted to the table. A note lay there like a leaf. It read: “Xiaoxue, Mom and Dad went out to run errands. We’ll be back tonight. Breakfast is in the kitchen. Eat when you wake. I left some money on the table. If you need anything, go buy it, don’t be frugal.”
He tilted his head. A few red 100-yuan notes with Chairman Mao’s face sat stacked like little bricks. “Heh, interesting.” He read on. “Be careful outside. Don’t talk to strangers. Don’t go with strangers. Remember, we’ll be home tonight. Love you.”
“Parents who really love me. Nice.” Warmth spread through him like tea. “What’s this body’s name?” He slipped into the parents’ room, eyes skimming drawers and frames like a thief of facts. The Little Loli was named Xiao Qianxue. Dad and Mom ran a factory together—comfortable, not filthy rich. “Xiao Qianxue. Mm. That’ll work.”
He shut the door and headed for the kitchen. “So much food!” The foodie in him perked up like a dog at a whistle. Two bites later, his belly pressed tight, a small drum. “This body eats like a bird. Fine by me. Ruining a Little Loli’s figure would be a crime.”
Back in the room, his small body leaned on the window, elbows like feathers on the sill. Outside, the city moved like any other weekday. Curiosity bubbled like soda. “What’s the world like out there? Maybe not so different. Let’s go see.”
He clambered down and wobbled toward the wardrobe, steps like a duckling’s. At the doors, he froze. “What do I even wear… I never handled this stuff.” He stamped once, a tiny thunderclap. “Right. Dress like an anime heroine.” He’d watched enough shows; simple styling was in his pocket.
He yanked open the wardrobe, excitement fizzing like fireworks. He searched, found no gothic-loli getup, and sighed it away. “Whatever. I’ll buy one later.” He picked an outfit and shut the doors with a soft thud.
Clumsy little fingers tugged pajamas off, but at the pants, heat rushed to his cheeks like sunrise. “Even if it’s my body, doing this is…” He slid the sleep pants down. In the mirror, red-and-white bear-print panties popped into view like a flag. “Bear panties… Do lolis all like these?”
The blush deepened, pink on milk-white skin, a peach you wanted to bite.
Dressed, Wu Hao faced the mirror again. The adorable, golden-haired Little Loli wore a white long-sleeve with a blue vest. Slim jeans hugged slender legs like water on willow twigs. Overall, she radiated sunshine, a golden Little Loli ready to skip into day.
“Yeah, this works.” She bounced out of the room, steps like popping corn. “Wait, what did I forget?” A hand went to her hair.
“Right, hair. I don’t know how to style it. Do I just let it down?” She huffed, then flicked the smooth gold strands like tossing silk. “Whatever.” She grabbed the red bills, stuffed them into her pocket, and slipped out the door like a ray of light.
