Downtown City A, every public screen hiccuped at once, then flooded red with an “Emergency Notice,” like sirens flashing across a still lake. The plaza wall, elevator panels, subway ads—all flipped in sync, a single wave.

“What’s going on?” Voices popped like corn.

“These TVs gone nuts?” Jokes fell flat, like pebbles on ice.

Office workers and students stopped mid-step, breaths held like birds in a cage. Eyes locked on the screens, waiting for the next shoe to drop.

“Citywide manhunt for a suspect. Name: Xiao Qianxue. Middle-school girl. Blonde…” A photo bloomed like spring light—long golden twin tails, a face carved delicate yet bright, a smile sweet as candied haw.

“Holy crap, who is she? She’s adorable!” Laughter burst like a match in dry straw.

“Such a cute Little Loli, get me one!” The crowd buzzed like a beehive stirred.

“That kid’s a wanted suspect?” Doubt rippled like wind over grass.

Questions swarmed, but most gazes clung to the picture like moths to a lantern. The words slid past, a river no one read.

“Report with a precise address, reward between one and five million. The girl is suspected of murder and extremely dangerous. Proceed with caution.”

The number hit like thunder. The crowd boiled, a pot at full tilt. To a nine-to-five soul, five million meant no more cursed subways, no more boss’s face, maybe a home with sunlight and a wife with warm hands.

“Where is that girl?” Eyes went strange—fever and hunger, coals under ash. The city center stirred like ants in sugar. Work could wait. Class could wait. The goal shrank to a point: the girl on the screen.

“Xiaoxue’s in deep trouble now.” Joanna curled into a corner of the Bentley, gaze pinned to the backseat screen where the news looped like a snare drum.

“Damn it, Dad! I told you to bring Xiaoxue with us. Why’d you leave early?” Her voice climbed like a storm front. She’d seen the blonde girl’s strength, a blade under silk. She didn’t fear capture, but worry bit like cold.

“You don’t understand, she… forget it. Saying more won’t help you.” The man in the passenger seat offered only a few dry words, leaves falling early.

“It’s just a spell, Xiaoxue. We’ll meet again after it passes.” Joanna’s heart tightened like a fist before her hands moved. She slipped a small hand from her jacket and cradled that electronic slab, studying it as if warmth could seep through. The Bentley knifed down the expressway, a black arrow skimming asphalt.

Back at school, the classroom sat like a sealed jar; air heavy, faces ashen. Everyone had seen the notice naming Xiao Qianxue. The homeroom teacher walked in, complexion the color of dust after rain. Fear weighed on her shoulders, but luck had spared the class from harm. What remained…

“Xiao Qianxue and Joanna have both transferred.”

No one answered. Even heads refused to rise, like flowers under frost. Ou Xiangyang’s brow knotted. “How did it come to this?” The words fell like dull bells.

After a beat of silence, the class monitor stood. “Everyone!” His voice wasn’t loud, but it carried like a drum under snow. “Joanna transferred so she wouldn’t drag us in. And Xiao Qianxue… for our safety she… anyway! We can’t sit here like ghosts. This isn’t what they want to see.”

The plea wasn’t a miracle, but it warmed like a small stove. Shoulders eased a little; breath returned.

“Alright then, get ready for class soon…”

At that same moment, a blonde girl pulled a suitcase through a quiet block, wheels whispering like a cricket. “Where did they dump me? It’s so empty.” The street felt bare, wind threading through loose boards. The few pedestrians wore plain, even patched clothes, fabric like faded sky.

She looked up. Houses were two or three floors, squat like tired dogs. Some were stitched from iron sheets and scraps, shelters built to keep only rain out. Curious eyes trailed her, like villagers watching a comet.

“Is this… a slum?” Little Loli blinked at the scene, disbelief fluttering like a moth. “City A has a place like this? No… I’ve only ever gone to school, Joanna’s place, and the mall…” She could count her world on one hand. “Still, this might be a decent hideout.”

She walked on. The sun climbed to noon like a nail hammered into the sky. Sweat beaded on her cheek like glass.

“System, how long till combat mode’s off cooldown?” Emotion hit first—a groan rising like steam—then she wiped her face with a small hand.

“Four hours remaining.”

“Why that long?!” Her clear wail rang like a bell.

“Hey, big sister!”

“?”

Little Loli turned. From a corner, a small boy in a red, patched shirt popped out like a squirrel. He shrank behind a cracked wooden post, a black head peeking, eyes clean as mountain springs.

“Big sister…” He hid and stared, curiosity bright as a coin.

“Hi there!” Little Loli crouched, knees folding like reeds. “How do you know I’m a sister? I don’t even have long hair now.” She tapped the cap hiding her gold; a few strands slipped down like sunlit threads. Her casual wear hung loose, nothing flashy, just city wind and dust.

“Big sister’s so pretty and so cute. Anyone can tell you’re a girl,” he piped, voice soft as steamed buns.

“But I’m really a boy. Usually the cute ones are boys.” Little Loli grinned, mischief flickering like foxfire. A chase needed bright pockets of air.

“I don’t believe you!” He toddled up on small steps, then put his hand to her chest and grabbed—once… twice…

“Hey!” The blonde girl yelped, anger popping like a soap bubble. “Kiddo, you can’t do that!”

“She’s a girl! Mom says girls have chests.” He crowed, proud as a rooster.

“…” A rain of black lines fell in her mind.

“Are you mad, big sister?” His brow puckered, a paper boat in rain.

“…”

“Do you want to visit our place? It’s just me and Mom!”

“Uh… sure.” Little Loli weighed it, worry first like a shadow, then need. She could use a perch to catch her breath. A few gold strands lifted in the breeze, dragonflies over water. She looked at the boy’s bright, guileless smile.

Why bicker with a child…

Led by the boy, Little Loli stopped before a small two-story house, modest as a lunchbox.

“This is it?” It matched her guess. She took off her cap; her golden hair spilled like a waterfall, light catching in every strand.

“Yeah! Wow, big sister, your hair’s so pretty! Can I touch it?”

“No. And hurry up and open the door.”

He scampered to the lock. The door creaked like an old tree.

“Xiao Tao? Is that you?” A middle-aged woman’s voice floated out, warm as soup.

“Mom, I brought a big sister home!”