“Mmh... so loud...” The clamor rose like a hive of bees, tugging Little Loli from sleep. She blinked through haze; a slab of sapphire sky hovered close.

“How—?” Frustration surged first, then motion. She tried to push herself up, failed. Quilts wrapped her like layered clouds, pinning her snug.

“Uu... uu.” Lin Fan drifted between sleep and waking, until the noise nudged him fully back. Little Loli lay pouting on the chair, cute as a kitten.

Her golden eyes glittered like coins in sunlight, and her long hair poured over her like a silken sheet of honeyed gold.

“Xiaoxue, you’re awake.” Lin Fan’s hand moved on habit, a gentle head pat. He took in the tiny beauty swaddled in quilts.

“Lin Fan, where are we?” Irritation pulsed first; then she fought free, like a moth shedding gauze. “This body’s so soft... I’m not used to it.”

“On a helicopter, of course. I told you last night we’d leave today.” He tapped the table, a drumbeat of mild annoyance. “I meant to wake you, but you slept sweet.”

“So you just carried me onto the plane?” Her cheeks warmed like dawn. “Pervy brute,” she muttered, clutching the quilt tighter, then turned to watch the window’s painted world.

Lin Fan braced for punches and kicks, yet that blush stunned him like lightning under clear skies. Her small curled figure pulled him like a tide.

Desire surged first; then shock. His heart hammered like a wild drum, almost knocking him out of himself. “Hey, don’t get any ideas!” she snapped at his piggish stare.

Her clear, sweet voice cut through his fog like a bell in mist. “Sorry, got carried away,” Lin Fan said, sheepish smile flickering. “I’ll go wash up.”

She tossed the quilt into his face like a perfumed cloud and glided toward the bathroom, unhurried as flowing water.

“So fragrant!” Jasmine unfurled like spring air from the quilt, wrapping him. He caught himself, set it aside with reluctance, and snapped his fingers.

“Young Master.” A maid slipped in through a side hatch like a shadow. “Bring the prepared breakfast. And a pot of black tea.”

The maid departed, and Little Loli slipped from the bathroom, curiosity shining like starlight. “Lin Fan, how rich are you?”

Even her former family never kept a chopper this lavish. Curiosity tugged first; then the question spilled. “I dunno. If it’s there, I use it. Here.”

He shrugged, casual as wind, and passed her a tablet. The screen flashed like a little river of light.

“I won’t be polite, then.” She scooped it up and curled back into her corner, a kitten in a warm nook.

“Play for now. Breakfast’s coming.” Lin Fan drifted closer, shameless as a cat, fingers smoothing her hair like soft grass. She was already lost to the feed.

“Young Master, it’s here.” The maid pushed in a trolley piled like a harvest table. Lin Fan lifted Little Loli gently, setting her before the cart.

“Hey, don’t carry me...” She squirmed, cheeks pink as peaches, yet offered no true resistance.

“Come on, let’s eat.” Outside he looked calm; inside, chaos leapt like fish. “What am I doing? I grabbed her without thinking... but Xiaoxue actually...”

His hands slid around her waist like a careful embrace. He rested his head on her shoulder; his breath brushed her earlobe like warm wind.

“Mm... don’t...” Heat flushed her like summer noon. That breath melted her knees; she sank into the boy’s chest, soft as cotton.

Then she felt something hard press her back, a blunt warning like a pebble under silk. “...Damn!”

She snatched a fork; her body flipped in place like a spring swallow. The fork flew—whoosh—an arrow of steel for his crotch.

Lin Fan still floated in his own little world. “Ah!!!!” His scream tore through the cabin like a siren, ringing the sky.

“Learned your lesson?” Little Loli sat prim and proper, breakfast in hand, while Lin Fan knelt clutching himself in the corner like a defeated knight.

“Hiss— Xiaoxue, that’s harsh.” Pain twitched his face like a cramp. A faint green glow crept up his hand, sly as moss.

Whoosh. Another fork split the air, quivering in the deck between his legs like a warning stake. “Wanna try that again?”

Little Loli raised her teacup; steam curled like mountain mist. A small smirk tugged her lips. “I... I plead guilty. I was wrong.”

His whole body jolted; the green light snuffed out like a candle in wind.

“If pain doesn’t stick, you won’t learn, you brute.” She sipped black tea and smoothed her bangs, neat as a combed stream.

“Half an hour and we—” The middle‑aged pilot stepped in and froze, words scattered like startled birds by the scene.

“Hmm— hmm—” Lin Fan stood fast, coughing hard to bury shame like dust. Little Loli sipped, unbothered as a lake.

“Shouldn’t have walked in now... pfft.” The pilot tried to hold it, then laughed, a spark slipping out.

“Forget what you saw, and say what you came to say.” Lin Fan pulled on authority like a cloak.

“Half an hour till we reach the destination. Vehicles are ready on the ground.”

“Good. You can go.” Lin Fan coughed again. The pilot winked and slipped away like a fox.

“Hahaha.” Little Loli’s laughter rang like silver bells. Lin Fan didn’t flinch; he found it sweet as spring water.

“Don’t just stand there. Here—your breakfast.” She slid over, leaving a warm pocket of space on the sofa.

Half an hour passed like a single breath. The helicopter settled onto City A’s airport, gentle as a bird alighting.

The hatch opened. Lin Fan stepped out first. A row of suited bodyguards stood like black pines; at the end, a Rolls‑Royce Phantom gleamed.

Little Loli, draped in a blanket, hopped down. She met the display with calm eyes, used to parades like these.

They slipped into the Rolls, and the divider lifted like a silver wall, sealing front from rear.

“Finally feels familiar.” In the car, she didn’t gawk; she opened the mini‑fridge with practiced ease and pulled a bottle, cold as river glass.

“Xiaoxue, how’d you know the fridge’s there?” Lin Fan blinked, remembering his first ride like a blind man searching.

“My old ride was— uh, I dunno.” Pride pricked first; then she braked the words, cutting them short like thread.

“Huh?” Lin Fan frowned, a puzzled crease like a ripple. “Drink your juice.”

A bottle sailed his way like a soft toss. He caught it, cracked the cap, and drank, cool sweetness washing him.

“Now I’ll take you home.” He set the drink down, voice steady as a line.

“Mm...” Her answer hummed soft, a note like dusk settling.