“I’m back...” She drifted through the door like a tired swallow at dusk, her golden hair swaying as her weary body rocked.

“What’s up? You look wiped.” Her bargain dad, still in his suit like a storm-cloud clinging to evening, glanced over with raised brows.

“Fine... just a bit beat...” The memory pricked like thorns: Joanna had insisted on driving her home, a velvet wolf in cherry lipstick. Good thing she fought back in that metal carriage, or she’d have been devoured clean.

The whole ride had been a skirmish inside steel walls, fending off her bestie’s playful siege; after the afternoon meet, fatigue rolled in like low tide—anything else would be strange.

“Don’t mind me. A hot shower might fix it.” She shook her head; her gold hair flew like a banner in wind, tossing light like sunlit wheat.

“My daughter looks too good in that uniform.” A broad palm ruffled her like a cat against cedar, heavy and shameless.

She swatted the beast and slipped away like a silver fish; Little Loli dove into her own bathroom, steam a soft veil and tiles cold as moonstone.

“Xiaoxue, I heard you took third in high jump?” At dinner, her dad set down the paper like a folding fan, words drifting across the table like warm broth.

“Mm-hmm. Why?” Her phone clicked into silence, her gaze a clear lake lifted to him.

“Nothing—just surprised. In elementary you were a glass princess, too delicate to even run.” His tone was teasing, gentle rain on old stones.

The paper rustled like wings. “How about I take you shopping this weekend?”

“Sounds pretty good.” She thought back; since arriving, she hadn’t really walked a city street on purpose. “Deal.” Her smile was moonlight on water, and his eyes blurred like mist over lanterns.

Friday came on swift wheels. “Xiaoxue, you’re sure you don’t want to hang out?” After school, Joanna looped her slim arm around the golden-haired girl, swinging it like a ribbon in wind.

“Nope. My dad’s taking me shopping. Who knows what trouble I’d get into with you?” Little Loli pouted, her lips a cherry petal, voice dry as autumn leaves.

Finally free of her good buddy’s entangling ivy, Little Loli floated home and lifted her iPad like a talisman, diving into anime as if into starlit water.

“Tomorrow I get to take my daughter out—so happy!” Her bargain dad stepped in, voice bubbling like a kettle, eyes bright as lanterns.

“Hey, hey! It’s not a date—why are you this excited?” She lay sideways on the sofa, a sleepy cat sunning on a windowsill, words flicking like a tail.

“On the contrary—I wish it were a date.” His grin was a fox under moonlight, smug and ridiculous.

“You pervy old man, go die!” She grabbed a pillow and let it fly—thud like a drum—and he crumpled backward, a felled pine theatrically meeting the floor. “Ah!”

“Seeing you two play so well, I’ll come too.” Mom strode out, twilight silk and iron heels.

“Ah, dear, are you sure?” Dad poked up his head, hope like a sprout after snow.

“Absolutely.” Her foot descended like a decree.

“Don’t step on my face!” His complaint fluttered like a trapped moth.

Saturday dawned like a peach blossom. “Xiaoxue, does this look good for going out?” Mom sat in the back seat, turning with a smile bright as spring.

“Gorgeous! You make anything look good, Mom!” Little Loli had been dressed in a black dress, white stockings like fresh snow, and golden twin ponytails like sunlit ropes, with a touch of two-dimensional sparkle brushed over her cheeks.

From a distance, she looked like she’d walked out of an anime frame, a moon-faced beauty with skin every woman would envy to madness, dew-smooth and luminous.

“Sigh, I’m the pack mule again.” Up front, her bargain dad gripped the wheel, breath a long wave breaking.

They soon reached the Pacific Department Store. “Weren’t we going to Yaohan? Jiuguang would work too—why Pacific?” Mom’s tone was curious, her glance a quick blade.

“It’s the big weekend—parking’s a mess everywhere. Besides, stuff here’s not worse.” He slid the car into a slot with the care of placing jade, then finally answered.

“I don’t care...” To Little Loli, these malls were rows of shells without pearls; wherever they wandered felt the same.

Under a tide of eyes, the three stepped into the mall. The crowd was dense as bamboo, so the mother-and-daughter’s glow hid a bit among the leaves, yet at close range, gazes still stuck like burrs.

“Couldn’t you just let me wear a hoodie? Why dress me up this loud? We’re practically inviting weirdness.” Little Loli muttered, words like soft rain tapping a window.

“It’s fine. With your old man here, no one can touch a finger.” He flexed, muscles coiled like braided rope; up close, he actually had a look.

“Hmph—don’t need your protection.” She pulled a cute face, a cheeky fox mask, then drifted off to peek here and peer there.

Mom took Little Loli through a forest of clothing stores, and the girl became a porcelain doll, changed and posed, outfits fluttering like banners in a festival wind.

“Mom, spare me~~~~” She’d thought this was real shopping; too naive—like chasing fireflies only to meet a bonfire.

“All right, dear, let’s pause.” Dad had watched dozens of outfits bloom on his daughter, eye candy sweet as candied haw; he could feel the shared ache and thrill like twins of the same fruit.

“Come on, let’s check that jewelry counter for something you like.” He took the golden-haired girl’s hand; her fingers were cool silk, and together they stepped into a boutique that looked high-end like lacquer but sold small charms like scattered stars.

Once, Little Loli had zero interest in such things; now, bright pieces flashed like fish scales, and she felt a pull like moon on tide.

“This one’s a well-known shop in Pacific,” her bargain dad narrated, voice low as bamboo shadow. “Not luxurious, but the craft is delicate.”

“I want this.” Little Loli pointed; the clerk’s gaze followed like a cat’s. Inside the glass lay a silver necklace, the chain slender as water grass yet giving a solid, reliable feel. At its heart hung a white-gold crescent, a moon bite gleaming; the hollow was filled with red amber, a drop of sunset. The two looked separate, yet they nested tight, like sky embracing sea.

“Mm. That’s a good necklace.” After a closer look, Dad’s nod was firm as a stone seal.

“How much?” She lifted her eyes to the clerk, an older woman wrapped in personality like bright brocade.

“5300.” The voice was neither warm nor cold, flat as winter pond.

“Any chance of cheaper? How about 4000?” The probe slid out like a testing needle, feeling for bone.

At the number, Little Loli took the crescent in hand; metal was moon-cool, amber warm as tea. “The crescent’s white gold is real; the amber’s cheap by name, but this piece is top-grade—you can tell by its clarity.” Her mental abacus clicked like rain on bamboo. “Actual price around 4500–5000,” she judged, and turned back to the haggling battlefield like a general tapping a fan.

The seller stayed firm, a cliff against waves. Dad had tricks up his sleeves like hidden knives, but with his daughter right there, he kept them sheathed. They closed at 5100, the string taut and done.

“Do you like it?” He lifted the necklace and laid it around Xiao Qianxue’s neck, the crescent settling on her skin like a moon on still water.

“Love it.” Her smile curved like a bow, and she planted a kiss on his cheek, light as a petal.

“Worth the trade,” someone thought, satisfaction rising like steam from a perfect cup.