The Rolls-Royce slid through a tide of stares, like a black swan on a night river, and stopped at the gate of Longteng Community.

“Xiaoxue, we’re at your place.” Lin Fan gently shook the drowsy Little Loli, like nudging a sleeping sparrow.

“Huh…? Oh.” She rubbed her eyes, kitten-soft, and saw they were already home.

“I’m heading out then!” Little Loli reached for the door handle.

“Wait, Xiaoxue. I’ve got something to show you.” Lin Fan’s tone carried a weight like thunder behind clouds, and she stilled.

He pulled a bag from the front seat and took out a sealed folder, crisp as frost.

“Here. Take a look.” He passed it over.

Little Loli opened it at once, her breath snagging like thread on a thorn.

The first thing that met her eyes was a photo: the alley where she’d been abducted the first time, silent as a grave.

A row of desiccated corpses lay on the ground, like withered leaves after a winter gale.

“What is this?!” Her voice faltered, like a candle in wind.

Judging from the timestamp, it looked shot about half an hour after she’d left.

The next photo hit harder, like a pebble shattering a still pond.

It showed the rural cottage from her second kidnapping—the place she met Lin Fan.

Inside, bodies lay scattered, a bleak field after a storm.

“Why…” Fear crawled up her spine like cold ivy.

Her golden eyes trembled, panic gleaming like spilled sunlight, as she stared at Lin Fan and the papers in her hands.

“These came from our organization’s intel team,” he said, voice low as winter rain. “I just got them too.”

Lin Fan’s face set, granite under snow.

“Near the first scene, the cameras caught a shadow.”

He slid out another print: a blurred figure on one side of a bridge, like a smudge racing the river.

Too fast—only a ghost of motion remained.

“This is one reason I told you to stay alert,” Lin Fan said, each word laid down like stepping stones.

“Our people are very interested in vampires. They may already be digging into this. Even the local government might not be able to intervene.”

“What should I do?” Helplessness flooded her chest like night tide; she felt like a kite with no string.

“For now, you’ll be fine,” Lin Fan said, gentling his gaze like dawn light. “Just keep a low profile. Don’t cause a stir.”

He reached out and ruffled her hair, soft as wind through wheat.

“Seems that’s all I can do.” The ever-calm Little Loli stood before the murk of a mysterious group and found no brighter path.

“Forget it for now. Once I get home, I’ve got a lot of trouble waiting…”

Without thinking, she twirled a strand of hair by her ear, a small feminine gesture slipping in like spring into late winter.

“Alright, I’m off.” Lin Fan flashed a sunlit smile.

“No farewell hug?” He opened his arms, warm as a blanket fresh from the dryer.

“Hmph…” She pinched her skirt hem, cheeks blooming pink, then leaned into the big boy’s chest like a bird to a branch.

“Take care of yourself. I’ll come back and check on you in a while.”

He ducked his head into her gold hair, savoring its familiar scent like honeyed tea.

“Hey…” Little Loli, face flushed, pushed him away, a puff of summer wind breaking the spell.

“Bye.” Lin Fan grinned at the shy little loli, closed the door, and the Rolls-Royce slipped away down the road like a black fish.

She walked home by habit, feet finding the path like water finding its course, and pressed the doorbell.

A thin silhouette appeared behind the door, voice worn like old leather.

“Who is—? Xiaoxue!!!”

Weariness snapped to wild joy, like a storm torn open by sunlight.

“Figures… Dad.”

In the next instant, she was scooped into an embrace, tight as a life preserver.

“Daughter, I thought I’d lost you. You’re safe—that’s all that matters!”

Her old man was too excited to find words, his voice tumbling like stones down a hill.

“Dad…” Since arriving in this world, peace had been a rare bird; kidnappings came like sudden squalls.

She saw the ash at his temples, winter on a summer head, and her heart pinched.

“I’m back.”

After catching up with her family, Little Loli slipped into her familiar bathtub.

“Mm… too comfortable,” she sighed, melting like snow in hot springs.

“I should ping Nana and the others. What day is it, anyway?”

Damp and towel-draped, Little Loli padded into the living room, leaving footprints like crescent moons on the floor.

She pinged Joanna on the iPad.

“Nana, I’m back.” Words felt small, like sparrows in a wide sky.

Joanna saw the message and instantly pulled her into a call.

“Xiaoxue!!!!”

Little Loli hadn’t even spoken before Joanna’s voice broke, crying like summer rain on tin.

“I—I thought I’d never see you again… uu, uu…”

“Don’t cry. See? I’m back safe and sound.”

Listening close, she heard the rasp in Joanna’s voice, a throat rubbed raw like sandpaper, and her own heart ached.

Hours flowed by on the call, drifting like a long river under moonlight, until Joanna finally calmed.

“Surviving storms like that isn’t easy…”

Hearing her sigh, Little Loli’s head filled with dark lines, like ink bleeding in water.

(As if this wasn’t your fault…)

Night settled, soft as velvet.

She set the new phone Dad had bought on the bedside, hugged her favorite pillow, and thoughts churned like leaves in wind.

“I was missing about four days. Even the papers ran the story.”

She remembered skimming a days-old newspaper: a girl lost at sea in a storm.

Her chest stampeded like wild horses.

“A supernatural organization… sigh.”

Even the old her had feared that kind of thing; now they were nearly at her door like wolves nosing the fence.

“Please don’t find me…”

The morning’s photos flashed again in her mind, cold and metallic, and chills fanned through her ribs like black mist.

A heavy haze settled over Xiao Qianxue’s heart.

Next morning, Little Loli crawled from bed with twin dark moons under her eyes.

“Are you going to school today?” Mrs. Xiao asked, worry fluttering like a moth.

“Yeah… Staying home’s boring anyway.”

Little Loli yawned, smoothed herself together like quick origami, and—unexpectedly—put on her uniform and headed out.

At the school gate, Joanna came running, eyes red like maple leaves in autumn, and grabbed her in a tight hug.

“Xiaoxue… I missed you so much…”

Joanna cried into her arms, tears warm as summer rain.

“I’m fine, see? And hey, if anyone should be crying, shouldn’t it be me?”

Little Loli looked at the brown-haired girl, helpless as a cat with wet paws.

“Xiaoxue, you’ve changed.” Joanna suddenly stepped back, face solemn as a judge.

“What… how did I change?” Little Loli blinked, startled, like a deer in tall grass.

“Your chest got bigger!”

“……”