“Whoa, a kitten!”

Little Loli’s gaze snapped to the yellow fluff stepping from the alley mouth, like a sunbeam tiptoeing out of shade. A ripple first: Ever since I turned into a girl, even my hobbies shifted—Wu Dashao’s inner rant. Action next: she drifted forward, drawn like a moth to a lantern.

She slowed her steps, skirt swishing like a quiet pond. The little yellow cat didn’t care; it scrubbed its cheek with a plump paw, then curled into a warm circle, a croissant in late light.

“Got you!” Little Loli burst forward, a swallow cutting wind, and scooped the cat. A soft scent rose like milk and soap. “Smells nice. Not a stray.” She studied the bundle in her arms, eyes like polished cherries. The cat wasn’t having it. It meowed, sprang free like a grasshopper, and streaked back down the alley. “Hey, cutie, don’t run!” She smoothed her lifted hem, then darted in, a ribbon chasing a gust.

“Meow (>^ω^^ω^<).” Seeing the grandmother, the yellow cat hopped up, circled like a moon around a bowl, then sank, eyes half-closed, drifting into sleep like dusk on water. “Aiya, Xiaohua, you’re finally back. I haven’t seen you since afternoon and worried.” Her voice was warm tea in porcelain. Crisp footsteps sounded, beads on a dish. The grandmother looked up. Little Loli stepped in, hands folded before her skirt like a proper school flower. “Hello, Grandma.”

“Little girl, who are you?” Her smile was gentle, like a lamp behind rice paper. “Um, I followed your cat. She’s just too cute, so I…” Little Loli lowered her head, cheeks pink, like peaches in shade. She knew barging into an elder’s home was rude.

“You mean this child? It’s fine. Come sit.” The grandmother’s smile softened further, like winter sun on a wall. She pointed to a small bench. “Then I won’t be shy.” Little Loli took a stool and sat beside her, posture a folded crane.

“Did you just get out of school?” the grandmother asked, voice a slow swing. “Yep. I study at the middle school next door.” Little Loli tilted her head, playful as a sparrow.

“School must be tiring. Hard days for you children.” She leaned back, rocking like a boat on a quiet lake, memories rising like mist. “It’s not hard for me,” Little Loli answered sweetly, a sugar cube melting in tea. “When you’re old, you’re not much use,” the grandmother said, tone thin and sad as autumn wind. “I’ve been alone in this courtyard almost three years. Only Xiaohua keeps me company.” The sorrow brushed the air, a willow branch over water. “Rare to have a child visit.” She reached out and touched Little Loli’s head, weathered fingers like bark sliding over soft moss. Little Loli felt those storm-worn hands, slow and warm atop her crown.

“How could it be like that? Grandma, your son and daughter?” Little Loli’s voice dropped to a tremor, like rain under eaves. “Them… aiya, best not to mention.” Her eyes closed, and a tear slipped down her cheek like a bead of dew along bamboo. Little Loli bowed her head, heart tight as a knotted ribbon.

“Here, little girl. If you want to play with the cat, take her.” The grandmother soon steadied, smile returning like a lantern relit. She handed over Xiaohua. “Great, thank you, Grandma!” Little Loli’s joy bubbled like a kettle. She hugged the yellow cat close. With her owner nearby, the cat wasn’t wary; it settled, a warm loaf in her arms, and slept at ease. Seeing that peace, the grandmother nodded with a smile, a crescent moon on a calm night.

Time folded and flew. The sunset slipped away, a red silk drawn from the sky. “Oh no, it’s so late already.” Little Loli startled, a sparrow taking off. Playing with the cat had swallowed time like a tide. “It’s fine, little girl. Hurry home. Come play with me when you have time.” The grandmother spoke while taking back the sleeping Xiaohua, hands gentle as clouds. “Take care, Grandma. I’m off. I’ll definitely come again.” Little Loli dashed out of the courtyard, speed like wind. She skimmed eaves and walls, a wuxia shadow leaping toward home.

“I’m back!” The words tumbled in as Little Loli burst through the door, a gust carrying petals. Mrs. Xiao was just bringing dishes from the kitchen, steam curling like dragons. “Xiaoxue! Were you messing around outside again? So late!” Her mother’s brow tightened, a line of ink. “How can you call it ‘messing around’ when your daughter’s bright and adorable?” Little Loli’s voice turned soft and aggrieved, a kitten pawing. “Enough talk. Wash your hands and eat!”

Little Loli “finished” her homework—well, not exactly—then burrowed into the sofa, iPad in hand, catching up on anime like fireflies on a summer screen. Her bargain dad pushed in the door. “Aiya, I’m dead tired!” he hollered, voice bouncing like a drum. “Dad, I gotta roast you—what kind of tone is that?” Little Loli stared, speechless, at his instant clown act.

“Yo, daughter, ate yet?” “Of course! You?” She smoothed her bangs, then looked up at him. One eye gold, one eye red, twin lamps of tea and sunset. “Uh, I ate too.” He didn’t know where to place his words and slipped onto the sofa beside Xiao Qianxue. “Your mom didn’t catch you, did she?” He pointed at her eyes, a conspirator’s tap. “’Course not.” His silliness cracked her up; Little Loli giggled, a bell on silk.

Then her bargain dad scooped her and sat her on his lap. “Hey, you demonic dad—what are you up to!” She waved tiny fists, sparrow punches on a paper screen. “Nothing, just fixing your hair.” He smoothed her strands, fingers combing like bamboo over water. A thick déjà vu rose, like incense—she remembered cradling Xiaohua.

“Right, there’s a business gala this weekend. The city’s business crowd will be there. Xiaoxue’s coming along.” Her dad’s tone turned official, a seal stamp thumping paper. “A ball, huh…” Little Loli murmured, a feather drifting into thought.