“La la la…” Morning spilled like milk over the streets as a big Benz cruised on, and Little Loli hummed under candy‑pink Beats.

A red light blinked like a cherry; her cheapskate dad took the pause to glance back. “We’re almost at school, Xiaoxue—why are those headphones still on?”

Those headphones were won after relentless pleading, like rain wearing down stone. “Hmph, mind your own business!” Little Loli stuck out her tongue, a petal flicking in the wind.

He ate the rebuff like dust and focused on the wheel again, his sigh a tired breeze. “This girl… harder to rein in every day.”

Soon, a golden‑haired Little Loli with pink headphones appeared at the school gate, sunlight threading her hair like silk. “Huh, that was fast… what shall I play in class today?” Her steps tapped like sparrows toward the building.

She hummed into a classroom already ringing with morning recitation, a brook of voices flowing. “Last year, at this very gate, her face and peach blossoms blushed together…” The chorus stopped, cut clean like a string.

The homeroom teacher stood at the podium, grading with a measured rhythm, like rain on paper. Silence pooled as the golden girl walked in.

She slid the headphones to her neck, rose‑gold eyes sweeping the room like warm sunset. Her voice was honey poured thin. “No worries—keep reading.” She drifted to her seat, a leaf settling on water.

The teacher’s stare was a needle; her mutter, a mosquito near the ear. Not sweet, not kind.

“Eh, Joanna isn’t here today.” She glanced at the empty chair, a hollow like a missing tile, then fished out her phone, moonlight on glass.

A message flashed from Joanna: “Xiaoxue, I can’t keep you company today. This lady’s got errands. See you tomorrow!” Little Loli imagined her friend’s face, mischief like starlight, and covered her mouth with a shaky giggle.

That smile was a velvet trap; every watching boy fell in like moths to a lamp.

Without noticing, third period already crept in, a shadow climbing the wall. On the podium, the math teacher pushed his glasses, a precise click. “Class rep, please hand out the homework.”

“Wait, what…” She exhaled, soft as a cloud, and went up anyway; she had a soft spot for this teacher.

Jasmine drifted through the room, weaving into corners like a spring breeze, and a few would‑be gentlemen inhaled greedily.

Task done, Little Loli folded over her desk, a swan tucking its neck. “Okay, today we’ll talk about the theorems of parallel lines…”

Near noon, the PE teacher stormed in, a gust rattling leaves. “This afternoon we’re at the pool for swimming class. Class monitor leads. Don’t forget! Dismissed—go eat!”

“Ah, looks like I’m eating alone at noon.” Her mood sank, a small stone in a pond. “Coffee it is.” She slipped her headphones on and left under a garden of stares.

Outside the campus, she strolled toward Starbucks, the city humming like bees. Coffee and cake ordered, Little Loli tucked into a corner seat, eyes closed, waiting for noon to pass like warm tide.

“Mmm… that nap hit the spot.” She sprawled on the sofa, a golden kitten in sun, cute enough to melt ice.

She rubbed her eyes; her cake—untouched—was now a battlefield of crumbs. “Hey! Who stole my—” She looked down and saw Xiaohua curled at her feet, little whiskers sugared with frosting.

“Ah, you little rascal.” Her helpless sigh was a ribbon; how had this furball tracked her here? She lifted Xiaohua onto her pale thighs, stroking the small head like smoothing silk.

“So it was you.” She scratched under the chin; the cat curled tighter, a crescent moon on her lap. “Uh—what time is it?” Phone out, home button tapped; 12:57 flashed like a siren.

“Dammit, I’m super late!” She scooped the cat and kissed it, a quick peck like a cherry. “Xiaohua, sis is heading to class. Go back to Granny’s and be good.” She set it down and dashed off, a gust down the street.

By the time the English teacher stood at the podium—“Alright, let’s begin—” a streak of gold flashed into the room and settled at the very last row.

“…class,” the teacher finished, words landing like a dropped pin.

Afternoon PE crept up, and the teacher hadn’t arrived yet; a cluster of “gentlemen” buzzed outside like hornets. “We get to see the girls in school swimsuits—so exciting!” one boy bleated, face screaming creep.

“Shut it, idiot!” The chorus cracked like sticks. “Honestly, I just want to see our class belle,” another said, voice thick as syrup.

“Mm‑hmm, agreed.”

“+1.”

“Seconded!”

“Sigh… boys are still so boring.” Little Loli lay on her desk, a willow bending. Her hearing picked up their chatter like a net, and even without, she could guess—it wasn’t her first rodeo.

“Alright, everyone line up! To the pool!” The PE teacher appeared at the door, voice a drum. “Class monitor, lead!”

Lines formed in the hallway, straight as reeds. “Good! Move out!” The group flowed toward the pool, a river of sneakers.

Aside from Joanna, Little Loli had no one close; she wore cool goddess aloofness like frost on jade. Voices chattered like sparrows along the way; she walked silent, a lone cloud. “Wish Joanna were here…” the thought drifted across her heart.

They reached the swimming hall. “Collect your swimwear in the office, then change according to the door numbers. Five minutes—meet at the pool. Dismissed!” The order struck like a gong.

Little Loli flashed to the counter, key shining like a fish scale, then slipped into her changing room and locked it, clean as a seal. She wasn’t one to giggle over suits in the corridor.

“Being alone has perks,” she thought, a cool sip of tea. “Just… a bit lonely.” She pictured sharing a changing room with her bestie—and her cheeks burned like peaches.

She changed fast into her school swimsuit, deep blue as lakewater. In the mirror she posed, cute angles like blossoms; her golden hair flared above the blue, a sun over sea. Her legs were bare, lines clear as reeds; her skin, porcelain in soft light.

“Wonder what happens when I walk out…” The idea flickered, then blew away like a spark; she didn’t care. She snapped a sultry photo, moon‑gloss on skin, and sent it to her bestie with a wicked grin.

The reply exploded through the phone. “Ahhhh! I didn’t get to see Xiaoxue’s school swimsuit in person—unforgivable! That damn dad, I won’t let him off!”

Resentment throbbed, heavy as drumbeats. Little Loli laughed, a bell in spring. “Okay, okay, there’ll be a next time. Go finish your errands—I’m hanging up. Bye!”

“Everyone, assemble!” The loudspeaker barked, thunder in a tin. “Ugh, that annoying old auntie…” Her frown bloomed, lethal cuteness in a single crease.

Still, she tucked away her phone, pushed the door, and stepped out, a bright fish sliding into blue.