“Oh, so you two are hiding here.” Zhu Jinhan slipped past the shelves, her shadow skimming wood like a passing cloud, and spotted the pair tucked in the corner.
“Oh—it's the Class Monitor.” Little Loli looked up, surprise rippling like a breeze through wheat.
“Hello, Monitor...” Wang Yan murmured, her voice thin as spider silk.
“You actually tutor people?!” The Class Monitor’s shock rang like a struck bell. The golden-haired girl before her was a straight‑A prodigy, yet she seemed to do nothing but sleep. Hearing that Little Loli was helping Wang Yan study felt as absurd as aliens landing to invade Earth.
“Hey, hey! Don’t make me sound useless.” Warmth rose first, soft as cotton; Little Loli knew she was joking. The monitor had helped her plenty before, so her feelings were gentle and bright. “By the way, I never really checked in after you got back to school. You doing okay lately?”
Facing the tiny golden bundle of cuteness, Zhu Jinhan’s heart loosened like dew on leaves; she’d worried for a long time after hearing Little Loli had gone missing at sea. “I’m fine, just feel weak...” Little Loli’s eyes narrowed like a crescent moon. “So, Monitor, what are you doing here?”
“Passing by the library, grabbing some materials.” The Monitor lifted the books in her hand, covers stacked like brick tiles.
“About those girls in class—don’t take their words to heart. I’ll sort it out.” Her voice dropped into steel; her delicate features hardened like a blade’s edge. The Class Monitor was clearly invested.
“Then I’ll leave it to you.” Little Loli’s smile bloomed sweet as honey.
“Girls look cutest when they smile.” The Monitor’s palm landed on Little Loli’s head and ruffled gently, warmth brushing like spring wind.
“Don’t—my height won’t grow!” Little Loli shook her head, stubborn as a sapling.
“I’ll get going. You two, keep it up.” Satisfied, the Monitor drew back her hand, then turned and left. Not tall, but steady as a young tree, her reliable back receded like a path through bamboo. The care in her words stayed behind, a warm current in the chest. “Someone... looked out for me.”
An hour drifted by like a slow cloud, and the two finally wandered out of the library.
“Did you get everything I covered today?” Little Loli had tailored a study plan for Wang Yan, mapping trouble spots with calm lines like a charted river.
“Mm. Thank you, Xiaoxue. Please keep guiding me!”
Soon the final bell fluttered down like a sparrow’s tail. As usual, Joanna took Little Loli’s hand and led her out of the classroom.
“How’d the teaching go today?” Joanna’s curiosity glinted like water in sun.
“She loves to learn. Give me a bit more time and she can break into the top ten in class.” Little Loli’s confidence shone; her smile was bright as noon, and the shadow from days before had scattered like mist in wind.
Seeing that, Joanna’s joy rose like warm steam. But as they reached the bottom of the stairs, a ring of seven or eight girls closed in like crows around grain.
“Xiao Qianxue. Joanna.” The leader—An Xinru—spat their names like stones. “Yesterday, you two made our sisters lose face.”
“Yeah, that’s right.”
“They need a lesson.”
Pressure tightened first, wire pulling through the palm; Little Loli felt Joanna’s grip grow firm. “Nana, let’s go.” Conflict would be useless. In this small body, a fight had no upside, and Joanna might get hurt.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Footsteps thudded like drums as Cai Wenbin came down from the landing.
“Ah, Young Master Cai!” The girls’ exclamations fluttered like startled sparrows. In school, Cai Wenbin carried weight; heir to the city chamber of commerce, his family held a big share of the school. He was only in seventh grade, but his influence walked ahead like a banner.
“We’re just having a group discussion, aren’t we?” An Xinru’s smile spread like syrup.
“Since when do you need the stairwell to discuss?” Cai Wenbin’s brow knit into storm clouds.
“Sorry, Young Master Cai, this is our class’s business. Outsiders shouldn’t interfere.” Li Lian rushed to throw up a curtain of words.
“Oh? The great Young Master Cai wants to meddle in another class’s mess?” Ou Xiangyang appeared at the corridor wall like a shadow slipping from a silk screen, handmade suit and flashy hair, leaning sideways like a lazy cat.
“Master Ou!” The girls clung to him like birds to a reliable bough.
Tsk. Cai Wenbin and Ou Xiangyang’s gazes collided, two hunters measuring each other, eyes crossing like blades.
“Tch...” Joanna curled her lip, a moon‑thin arc. Beside her, Little Loli calmly combed her golden hair, threads of sunlight sliding through fingers, as if none of this belonged to her.
“Disperse. Now. That’s an order from the Class Monitor.” Zhu Jinhan strode in from the side, her voice dropping like a gavel. No wonder—the Monitor’s aura pressed down like a mountain. “Disrupting order on campus after school—want me to report you to the Brigade Office?”
“Damn...” Faces soured like unripe fruit. A quick huddle of whispers, and they saw there was no point—so they scattered at once, a tide pulling back. Ou Xiangyang frowned and turned away.
“Good thing I made it in time.” The Monitor watched them go and came to stand by the two, presence steady as shade.
“Mm‑hmm.” Cai Wenbin edged closer, too.
“Doesn’t look like you helped much,” Joanna said with a wicked little grin, sparkles jumping like fish.
“I couldn’t. If it were just that group of girls, easy. But with Ou Xiangyang added—” Cai Wenbin lifted his hand in helpless surrender, a sigh slipping like a thin breeze.
“Either way, thank you, everyone.” Little Loli bowed, a willow bending.
“It’s fine. It’s what a Class Monitor should do.” The Monitor waved it off, hand brushing like ripples.
“See injustice, step in—blade ready.” Cai Wenbin flicked his hair. Sadly, with a buzz cut, his wave broke short.
They exchanged farewells and drifted off, each to their own door, like lanterns splitting into night. Later, from Joanna’s lips, Little Loli learned the Monitor’s older sister was captain at the school’s Brigade Office. No matter your status, school runs on rules—there are many tigers with power; if everyone ran wild, who knows what chaos the forest would become.
“So the Class Monitor’s got pull too.” Barely past the gate, a scrap of sunshine moved at the alley corner—a yellow kitten.
“Xiaohua!” Little Loli’s heart leaped first, then her feet; she sprinted and scooped the cat, hug warm as a quilt. “Sorry, sorry—so much happened, I forgot you. Come on, let’s visit Granny.”
She cradled the yellow cat to her chest, love soft as down. Xiaohua nestled in and purred, a cozy purr‑purr like a small engine.
They wound through alleys like a paper maze until a worn but familiar gate appeared, old wood smelling of rain.
“Granny!” She pushed the door open—fast as wind—and saw Granny rising, ready to head for the kitchen.
“Xiaoxue—there you are. You haven’t come for almost a week.” Seeing the golden‑haired girl step into the yard, Granny’s smile opened like a flower.
Relief came first, cool as spring water. “Looks like Granny doesn’t know I was missing at sea. Good—no need to worry her.” She’d grown up without grandparents, and almost without a parents’ warmth; now she cherished every bit of care, treasures that, in the last life, were only dreams.
“Don’t move, Granny. I’ll wash the vegetables.” She rolled up her sleeves, the fabric rising like tide, revealing porcelain‑pale arms.
And froze—deer in headlights. She’d barely set foot in kitchens, let alone washed greens.
“I’ll do it.” Granny chuckled, kettle‑warm. “One look and I can tell you’re a sheltered lady—not used to housework. Stand over there and watch me.”
Under Granny’s guiding hands, Little Loli learned to wash, even cook, skills sprouting like tender shoots. “Less salt. Right—lower the flame here.” She focused, stirring the sizzling pan like a small storm, while Granny taught step by step, careful as threading a needle.
“Mom, I won’t be home for dinner tonight.” She tipped the food onto the plate, phone clamped to her shoulder like a perched bird.
After half an hour of valiant battle, “Dinner’s ready!” She carried the dishes out with careful hands, steam curling like white clouds. Granny already sat by the table.
Meow! Even Xiaohua hopped by her bowl like a delighted sparrow.
“Surprisingly good!” Granny took a bite and praised, warm sun pouring through her voice. “For a first try, this is really nice.”
“Hehe...” Little Loli only stared at her masterpieces and grinned, silly and cute, smile opening like peach blossoms.
She tilted her face up to the night. The stars were so bright—cold fire scattered like frost across the dark sky.
