"Qin An, hold tight—I’m speeding up!"

Wang Luoran’s skirt fluttered in the wind as she pedaled. Qin An sat behind her, eyes fixed on her straight, delicate neck. They sped down a dimly lit path to school, streetlights sparse and far between. A gust swept strands of her hair across Qin An’s nose—soft, sweet-smelling.

A sharp turn jolted the bike. Qin An nearly flew off but grabbed her waist just in time. Her slender waist felt soft under his grip. He leaned against her back, eyes closed, breathing in her faint, girlish scent.

"Qin An… you’re holding too tight," Wang Luoran stammered, her voice trembling, face flushed crimson.

"Sorry." He loosened his grip—only for another bump to send him clutching her again. And again.

They reached Hongxing Elementary’s gates, locked tight.

"Don’t stop. Keep riding along the wall," Wang Luoran urged. Night students used a side entrance.

Qin An had planned to slip in—but spotted a red-clad old man chatting with the guard in the booth.

"That creep’s blocking the door!" Wang Luoran hissed. Ren Yin’s flashy red shirt stood out like a sore thumb.

"No problem. We’ll climb the wall." Qin An remembered the iron fence near the Lei Feng statue—easy footholds, though thorny bougainvillea vines were a nuisance.

"Don’t you dare look up."

"Got it."

"Ahh! It stings!" Wang Luoran yelped as thorns pricked her hand. Qin An instinctively looked up—and froze. Winnie the Pooh boxers. Adorable four-cornered Winnie the Pooh boxers.

Her face burned. She clutched her skirt. "You saw them, didn’t you?"

"I saw nothing. Absolutely nothing about Winnie the Pooh."

"Pervert!"

Qin An scaled the wall like a monkey. Wang Luoran, still blushing, panted, "Were you a thief before?"

"Something like that."

"Relax. Just stare at my back." He tugged her hand.

"I’m scared…" Her palms were slick with sweat.

"Guard ahead." Wang Luoran wasn’t a model student, but this was her first crime. Her heart hammered against her ribs.

Qin An sighed, pulling her close by the shoulders. She buried her face in his chest, arms locked around his waist, listening to her own frantic heartbeat.

The passing guard shook his head. *Kids these days—holding hands in an elementary school?* He pitied his lonely, girlfriend-less life. But reporting rich kids meant trouble. Not worth his rice bowl.

"Guard’s gone. Should’ve left you behind if you’re this jumpy." Qin An patted her back gently.

Moonlight silvered the pebble path, cold and empty.

Ducking past teachers on patrol, they slipped into the administration building. Only the front desk guard remained. Qin An’s "thief squad" reached the sixth-floor office of the head of discipline.

"Locked." Wang Luoran jiggled the handle.

"You’ll leave fingerprints."

"I don’t get it… but you sound pro, Qin An."

"I’m a professional gentleman thief."

"Gentleman Thief Qin An—how do we crack this?" She sighed. Picking it might alert guards; leaving damage would raise alarms tomorrow.

Qin An pulled a worn phone IC card from his waist pouch. The cheap lock clicked open in three seconds.

"Qin An! You’re amazing! Were you really a thief in another life?" Her eyes sparkled with awe.

"Maybe in a past life."

Moonlight flooded half the room. Wang Luoran bounced on her toes, fists clenched, sweat beading on her forehead. Qin An found an old DV camcorder in the third drawer—footage of her fighting played on its tiny screen.

He’d planned to destroy the memory card. But seeing the bulky desktop beside it sparked suspicion.

*Password protected?* He smirked. *Knew it.*

Wang Luoran, a gaming whiz but tech-illiterate, gaped at the screen’s scrolling green 0s and 1s. Qin An’s keystrokes flowed like piano keys in a waltz. His focused profile made her stare.

He hit Enter. Desktop unlocked. He dove into hidden folders—admin privileges bypassed all barriers.

Now he knew why Ren Yin locked it: folders stuffed with Japanese, Hong Kong, and foreign nude photos. Bikini shots were the tamest.

"Ew! Disgusting! Don’t look!" Wang Luoran covered his eyes. "My mom says this filth corrupts boys!"

"Fine, I won’t look. Though I *did* see someone else’s…" His mind flashed to that moonlit night—a beautiful silhouette, a shadowy patch.

"Hmph! No dirty thoughts, or I’ll never speak to you again!" Her face flamed. Her sweaty palms pressed against his cheeks.

He peeled her hands away and dug deeper—into an encrypted folder within an encrypted folder.

"Check this. Recognize any teachers? I’ve forgotten most."

"Whoa—that’s music teacher Ms. Pan! And the new art teacher… Oh my god, our homeroom teacher Ms. Lin Chunlan! How could they?!" Wang Luoran gasped. "They preach morality every day!"

"Don’t blame them all. Some might’ve agreed… but most were forced. Like Aunt Xia this time—because of you."

No one *wanted* that lecherous old man. Except opportunists chasing his influence. Ren Yin wasn’t a dragon or phoenix—just a big fish in a small pond. Yet people still flocked to him.

"They’re victims… Can we help? Send these to the education bureau?"

"No. Leaking this would ruin their lives. Some might even…" He didn’t finish.

"But letting that monster keep hurting people?!" Her fists tightened. She’d never hated anyone this much—not even her never-met father.

Qin An’s eyes hardened. "Leave it to me. He won’t get away with this."

He copied the files to a memory card, then shredded every trace from the computer.

*Thud. Thud. Thud.*

Footsteps echoed in the darkness.