At last over the towering wall, Lingcai felt drained and skittish, scalp prickling like frost crawling up bark.

Now came the easy part—run, like a leaf fleeing a sudden gale.

Thinking that, Lingcai exhaled a freed-up breath, scooped her backpack, slung it over her shoulder like a traveling sparrow.

After a few steps, thorns crawled across her back; something behind pressed its gaze like a cold moon.

Probably… a trick of nerves?

She didn’t dare look back; some truths are better left under snow, unseen and quiet.

She acted casual and hurried off, backpack swinging like a pendulum, yet footsteps buzzed like an angry bee in her chest.

Tap tap tap...

Choppy, urgent steps clung to Lingcai’s shadow like wet leaves; fear swept her mind clean like a tide.

She sped up, heart a drum against a paper lantern.

The sound lingered like a ghost that refused the dawn; at the corner, she stopped, hands cold as rain.

She yanked a palm-length metal cylinder from her bag, a little thunderbolt meant for payback.

Sure enough, when she rounded the corner, the chasing steps surged like a storm breaking over a ridge.

The figure crossed the turn, and Lingcai leveled the cylinder like a spear and thumbed the button.

Behold my tactical strobe—Ultimate Spark!

Honestly, shouting wasn’t required; bravado is smoke over water.

Flaaash—

A blinding burst slapped their face like noon sun on snow.

The reply was a girl’s scream, thin as a glass chime: “Eek!”

In a blink, the stalker’s true form spilled into view like a lantern’s reveal.

Kneeling on the ground was a young elf maid in black-and-white uniform and apron, crisp as ink on fresh paper.

Hit by Lingcai’s strobe, she rolled, palms over eyes, tears spilling like beads down cheek to pale neck.

Her white tights framed legs that kicked the air like flustered swans; her whimpers pooled like rain.

…No way…

Lingcai hadn’t expected this; she froze like a deer in frost.

She’d pictured guards or an assassin, yet she’d hurt someone who looked harmless as a spring lamb.

Her modest 36A chest twisted with guilt, a little box aching around a stubborn heart.

Funny how such a small space still fits a conscience, like a seed holding a forest.

Achoo! Feels like gossip prickling my back—

A shiver went up her spine like winter bamboo; she sneezed.

Leaving the white-silk maid here felt too cold; Lingcai soaked a towel and laid it over her eyes.

Don’t move. Cool it with the towel; bear with it, it’ll pass like cloud-shadow.

The maid fumbled, took the towel, and kept sobbing like a kettle.

Then she raised it—

—and blew her nose.

Snnrrrk.

It’s for your eyes! Lingcai cracked, patience snapping like brittle ice.

The cool cloth eased the sting like dew; her crying settled like dust after rain.

Lingcai dug out antibiotic drops, knelt, and eased her head onto Lingcai’s lap like a calm shore.

Plain speak? A lap pillow.

Relax. Don’t move, or it’ll get infected like a wound in rain.

Her voice was soft as cotton; the maid went docile, limbs loose like ribbons, hands folded over her belly.

She lay there, letting Lingcai arrange her like a gentle sculptor.

Her features were delicate, a porcelain doll shaped by a patient craftsman.

Light-brown twin tails trailed from her head, waterfall strands pooling along the floor by Lingcai’s legs.

Lingcai moved gently, thumb and forefinger lifting an eyelid, the other hand dripping medicine like rain into a thirsty field.

The maid didn’t resist; she lay like a tame pup, nostrils fluttering as if drinking in a scent.

All set. Don’t open your eyes yet; rest a bit, let it settle like silt.

Lingcai went to lift her, but the maid rolled and hugged Lingcai’s waist like ivy.

This smell… it’s the little princess—so awesome, so gentle, so cute!

She buried her face in Lingcai’s belly and rubbed like a cat.

Wait—stop! I don’t know you! I’m not a princess!

Lingcai flushed, tried to push her off; the maid’s strength lifted Lingcai like a feather.

The little princess always carries this milky scent; even if it’s slightly different, you can’t fool me—heh heh…

I said I’m not! And who even are you? Put me down!

Dangling in midair, Lingcai spun like a wind chime, clutching the maid’s wrists to fight back.

She was already regretting saving this weirdo like a fisherman regretting a hooked boot.

The twin-tailed maid finally stopped twirling, set Lingcai down, hands on hips like a triumphant rooster.

Heh heh heh… it’s been two months; I’ve changed a lot, right?

I’m Qiancao! Maybe I changed tons, but the little princess is still as cute as always!

She spread her arms and lunged; Lingcai slid aside like water, face blank.

Sorry, don’t know you. Bye.

Qiancao wasn’t discouraged; she turned to pounce again like a spring.

Princess, gimme a hug~

You’re so annoying! I said I’m not a princess! Look at my ears!

They’re not pointed!

Lingcai flipped up her golden shawl of hair like a curtain, revealing her ears.

Qiancao widened her eyes, stared, then reached to tug an ear like testing silk.

Well? Believe me now! I’m not even elffolk!

If only I’d thought of this earlier, I’d have dodged this mess like swerving a puddle.

Qiancao traced the inner rim, paused, pinched the lobe, and after a long breath murmured:

…Pretty realistic.

They’re the original parts!!