A girl of about seventeen or eighteen approached from behind. She wore her hair in a single ponytail. Her face bore no makeup, yet it was exquisitely delicate—a pure joy to behold. She had on a simple white T-shirt, hugging her chest tightly as if ready to burst free. Below, faded blue jeans clung to her legs, slightly wrinkled but spotlessly clean.
Ji Yu’s eyes widened at such untouched beauty—like a lotus rising from clear water. He nearly drooled, heart pounding. The girl beside him was decent, but her heavy perfume reeked from afar. No match for this natural wonder before him.
“Big Sis Linxue, back so soon? Weren’t you at the shooting gallery?” Ma Tianyu asked.
The girl shook a Winnie the Pooh plushie in her hand and smiled. “I wasn’t supposed to win this quickly. Might’ve spent all my money and gotten nothing. But a boy helped me with one shot. I wanted to thank him—he vanished in a flash.”
Hearing “boy,” Qin Yage accidentally crunched the lollipop in her mouth with a loud snap.
“Tianyu, this is your sister? Introduce me! We’re good friends, right?” Ji Yu called warmly, making Ma Tianyu’s skin crawl.
“Xiao Yu, who’s this? Your friend?” Linxue asked.
“No, Big Sis, he’s—” Ma Tianyu started. But Ji Yu’s fierce glare made him swallow his words.
Just then, a crisp, childish voice rang out behind Ma Tianyu. “I’ve never seen such shameless people. Do you even know how to write ‘shame’?”
Everyone turned. A cute girl stood nearby, lollipop in mouth, glaring angrily at Ji Yu.
“Little sister, talking to me?” Ji Yu asked, surprised.
“Duh! Not to you, then to air? You’re too dumb for ‘shame’ and slow as a turtle.” Qin Yage sneered.
Ji Yu flushed with rage. “You little brat! Say that again—I dare you!”
“I’ll say it forever. You’re a shameless idiot, pervert, moron!” Qin Yage shouted louder, drawing stares from the queue.
Fuming, Ji Yu glared. “No manners at all. Apologize now, or I’ll teach you a lesson for your parents.” He strode forward, puffing up. Did he think dyed-blond hair made him a tiger? When tigers don’t roar, you mistake them for Hello Kitty.
But he wasn’t even Hello Kitty’s equal.
Qin Yage felt a flicker of fear but stood firm. She pulled a new lollipop from her pocket. Apology wasn’t in her dictionary.
“Apologize, or I’ll ruin that face!” Ji Yu yelled, raising his hand to slap her.
A young, icy voice cut in beside him. “Touch her, and I’ll make sure you ride the Ferris wheel horizontally.”
Qin Yage’s face lit up with a radiant smile.
A boy stood there—raven-black hair, azure eyes gleaming. He held two ice creams, one enormous.
“Ge,” Qin Yage called, hiding behind Qin An. She clutched his sleeve, fist defiantly raised at Ji Yu.
Ji Yu hesitated to hit the delicate girl. Now her brother was here—perfect. Beating him would restore his dignity.
“You little—” Ji Yu started. But Qin An hurled both ice creams straight into his eyes. The cold shock made Ji Yu howl like a slaughtered pig.
Before Ji Yu reacted, Qin An lightly stepped on his toes. It looked gentle—only Ji Yu felt the excruciating pain.
Wiping cream from his eyes, Ji Yu’s face was smeared like a clown’s. The queue burst into laughter; even Linxue covered her mouth to giggle. Ji Yu burned with shame. He who bullied kindergarteners and nursing home elders—humiliated by a child. Enough was enough!
“You little brat!” he roared. But the siblings were gone. Even the Ma siblings had vanished.
“Still not embarrassed?” his girlfriend sniffed, then ran off crying.
“Tingting, wait!” Ji Yu chased her. He couldn’t lose this duck. Linxue would regret it later.
“Wait for us!” Ma Tianyu called.
But Qin Yage dragged Qin An away, running full speed.
“Yage, he won’t catch up,” Qin An said.
Qin Yage ignored him, sprinting as if her brother might vanish. Unaware of the obstacle ahead—
“Ouch!”
She crashed into Ma Linxue. Qin Yage bounced off her surprisingly elastic chest and tumbled into Qin An’s arms.
Qin An landed hard, pain splitting his backside. He couldn’t rise immediately.
Opening his eyes, Qin An first saw magnificent peaks before him, then Linxue’s slender hand reaching out.
Ma Linxue pulled him up with one hand. Qin Yage slapped the other away.
“Hmph! Big-chested fox spirits are all bad,” Qin Yage declared, brushing off her pants, arms crossed.
Ma Linxue smiled faintly, eyes crinkling. Only Ma Tianyu felt uneasy—he hadn’t seen that smile since his last mistake.
“Little boy, thank you. For the plushie and ice cream. Let me treat you?” Ma Linxue extended her hand.
“No need. It’s what a Young Pioneer should do,” Qin An started, reaching out. “Sure—”
Qin Yage yanked his sleeve, dragging him off. “Ge, you love shooting galleries! Let’s shoot all we want!”
“Yage, I’m not really—” Qin An began. But Yage shot him an icy glare. He fell silent. This serious Yage was new.
Qin An waved an apology to Ma Linxue as he was dragged away.
After they vanished, Ma Linxue smiled at her brother. “Xiao Yu, explain your relationship with that person.”
“Ge, I want that biggest Hello Kitty!” Qin Yage pointed to a plushie half her height.
“Okay.” Qin An took the air rifle, agreeing readily.
The shelf held plushies in a pyramid—larger ones on top, most glued down. But Qin An wasn’t fazed. Shops couldn’t overdo it; hitting one spot repeatedly would work.
He raised the rifle, aimed, fired—smooth and practiced.
First five shots: no movement. Sixth shot: a wobble. Tenth shot: the shop owner sweated. Thirteenth shot: he wept.
As the plushie fell, Qin Yage kissed Qin An’s cheek. “Ge, you’re amazing!”
Qin An froze, then wiped his cheek. Qin Yage blushed crimson, realizing her action.
Ignoring her flushed neck, Qin An asked, “Want another? Seven shots left—easy for small ones.”
Before he could complain about the shop’s shady rule, Qin Yage hugged the plushie and ran. It dwarfed her, making her look like a watermelon thief. Qin An touched his cheek—still warm and sticky. Maybe she hadn’t stolen a watermelon or hugged a plushie. Maybe she’d stolen something far more precious.
