Joanna asked, baffled, her brows drawing together like gathering stormclouds.

“Uh… basically the same trouble as last time.” Little Loli, back in her usual form, smoothed her twin ponytails like two soft reeds in a breeze. “They’re here to grab you, and they brought something nasty.”

“What thing… wait, before that, I’m more curious about what you looked like when you changed.” Joanna strode in, heat in her eyes like a flare at dusk, and pinched the girl’s dewy cheeks.

“Eek, don’t do that…” The blonde’s face flushed, pink rising like dawn along snow-pale skin.

“Even your teeth went pointy earlier. How have I never heard about that? Looks a bit like a vampire?” Joanna leaned in, her questions pecking like sparrows at a window.

“When this is over, I’ll explain it all.” After a little scuffle, Little Loli wriggled free like a fish slipping a net.

“You just said their ‘thing’… is it guns?”

“Exactly.” The word fell heavy, like iron into water.

Joanna’s face hardened, a shadow closing like nightfall. “From their route and my read, they’ll hit the camp straight on after dark.”

Little Loli nodded, gaze lifting to the sky where ink was pooling. “According to their movement, that’s the window.”

“Any good plan?” Joanna turned back, hope flickering like a candle in wind.

Little Loli’s gut tightened first, fear a cold hand around her ribs. Then thought followed, steady as a drumbeat. “Those guys look professionally trained. Gun specialists, one by one. Even if I go, I can’t promise I’d walk away unharmed, especially now.” She chewed the worry like bitter tea.

“We could run now,” Joanna tested, voice light but eyes tight as bowstrings. “Or call for backup.”

“If we run, our classmates will pay for it. If we call for backup, it might be too late.” Little Loli glanced at the deepening blue, the horizon swallowing gold like a tide. “Let’s do this: we hide first. We start calling support now. When the time comes, we act on the flow.”

“Sounds like the best we’ve got.” Joanna nodded, resolve settling like a stone in a clear pond. “But before that, let’s keep the camping going.” She laced her fingers with the blonde’s and tugged toward the stream, water glinting like silver threads.

“At a time like this you still want to camp—really you.” Little Loli was dragged along, half running, half laughing, like a kite bumping clouds.

“Maybe it’s our last time going out together.” Joanna’s voice softened, a hush like falling ash. She looked sidelong at the blonde, heart rippling like a tossed pebble in water. Her father’s words rose like a bell in fog: “If you insisted on staying, I won’t stop you. But the next time something truly threatens your safety—when it’s over, you leave at once. You won’t be back for a while.” That talk still rang, and this trouble arrived like thunder after the warning wind.

“Nana, what’s wrong?” Little Loli stopped with her, face tilting up like a lily to the sun.

“It’s nothing. Just thinking.” Joanna forced a smile, glow dimming from her lively ponytail like dusk taking the last swallows. Her brown eyes dulled, a lantern turned low.

“Look—this stream is pretty.” She pointed, voice brightening, to water that danced like glass snakes.

“Mm, for nearby scenery it’s really nice.” The blonde agreed, head dipping like a reed.

They crouched. Two soft, pale hands slipped into the clear stream, ripples running like silk.

“So cold!” Little Loli yanked her hands back, shivering like a sparrow.

“There’s colder!” Joanna lifted a palm and flung water, silver arcs flashing like knives.

“Ah!” Little Loli squeaked, shock blooming like a dropped ink blot.

“Curse it, I’ll get revenge!” With her golden hair slicked back like wet wheat, Little Loli rolled up her sleeves and answered with a splash, water leaping like koi.

“Play with me and you’re done, you little imp.” They battled along the bank, laughter spilling like bells and smiles opening like twin flowers.

After a while, their clothes hung heavy, darkened like rain-soaked leaves. “Silly Nana, look at us. If we go back like this, it’ll be a public show.” Xiao Qianxue pointed to the fabric gone a little translucent, moonlight-soft.

“There’s a blanket in the bag. We can use it to dry off.” Joanna dug out a towel blanket, fluff rising like dandelion seeds.

“Alright.” Little Loli took it, resigned, and began to wipe, movements neat as a cat grooming.

“You’re really not worried about those guys?” she asked, the question floating like mist while she dried her skin.

“Not really. I’ve got you, don’t I? You’ll protect me.” Joanna’s eyes wandered, more on the blonde’s form than the fear, like sunlight lingering on a shore.

“Protect… I can’t promise that.” The blonde folded the blanket and tucked it back into Joanna’s bag, breath steadying like a quiet tide. “Hey, your butterfly hair clip’s crooked.”

Joanna reached out, gentle as a breeze, took the pink-gold bow from Little Loli’s hair, and set it straight, the butterfly perched like a petal on spring grass.

“Thanks…” Little Loli sat still on the earth, waiting, patient as a small stone warming in sun.

“No problem. It’s our couple keepsake, isn’t it?” Joanna smiled, a spark jumping like firefly.

“…” The blonde stayed silent, but blush deepened like wine staining porcelain.

“Quit teasing. If we don’t head back, people will get suspicious. We can prep on the way.” Little Loli stood and brushed off dust, little clouds puffing from her skirt.

“Got it!” After a short bustle, Joanna packed up. Two girls, play flushed like cherries, walked back to camp side by side.

“Where did you two go? I was about to send someone to find you.” The homeroom teacher turned, his shadow stretching like a long pine in afternoon light.

“It’s fine, we just went out to play by the stream.” Little Loli scanned the camp—classmates bent over fires like busy ants, ingredients stacked like gathered mushrooms.

“Buzzing, huh,” Joanna said, warmth rolling like a hearth.

“Great vibe, but…” Little Loli’s words thinned, the rest swallowed like a pebble into deep water.

“Xiaoxue, did you girls take a bath?” Zhu Jinhan passed by, voice waving like a hand.

“We just played by the stream.”

“Oh, that’s why your hair’s dripping. Don’t catch a cold.” The class monitor waved off, slipping back into the bustle like a fish into reeds.

“Xiaoxue, tent. We need to talk.” They slipped inside, canvas creaking like a sail.

“My plan: we hide in the woods and watch the tide. Our rescue is almost here.” Joanna traced the tent seams with a glance, eyes moving like a compass needle.

“How ‘almost’?” Little Loli asked, breath held like a bowstring.

“About two hours.” The words fell, slow as stones.

“…” Silence pooled, dark as ink.

“This is my grandpa’s private unit. If they do something like this, they’ll come prepared. Any official mobilization orders will get blocked like arrows on a shield, so relying on others will be hard.” Joanna scanned the tent again, one hand holding Xiao Qianxue’s, grip warm as fire in winter.

“Alright, they’re actually close—maybe ten minutes. Let’s pray we can stall for two hours.” Little Loli’s blood-red eyes faded, color draining like sunset to ash. “Till then, let’s enjoy a few more minutes of camping.”

They chose not to tell the other students—no selfishness, just fear of chaos spreading like sparks in dry grass. They ate quickly, flames licking pots like orange tongues, then slipped into their own tent like birds to a nest.

“Okay, class, let’s enjoy our bonfire party!”

“Whoa!”

Right then, a mocking voice sliced the air, sharp as a cold knife.

“Mind if the uncles crash the party?” Around the circle of students, seven or eight masked men appeared, rifles raised like black branches.

“Who are you?!”