"Beep, beep, beep. Arriving at Dongshan Lake Station. Please exit if this is your stop."
Dragging myself along like a soulless office drone, I grabbed the escalator handrail and drifted up to the first floor.
The station's first level was a wide-open space for tickets—buying them, checking them, complaining about them. People hurried past with their heads down, all of them clearly knowing where they needed to go.
Then—A flash of shimmering gold zipped through my peripheral vision.
For a moment I honestly thought a doll had walked past me.
I blinked, convinced I was imagining things… but no. That doll-like figure was already standing near the western wall of the hall, studying the city map.
It was a girl—maybe eleven or twelve—with golden hair and sky-blue eyes.
Her hair practically sparkled under the fluorescent lights. She wore it in bouncy twin-tails tied with little bowties, the kind of hairstyle that tells you immediately: this girl has way too much energy.
Her eyes were huge, half her face, clear and blue like a perfect summer sky.
A foreigner?
Ever since that fake "Film Studio Town" opened nearby—and marketed itself as one of the city's two big attractions (the other being Dongshan Lake)—foreign tourists weren't unusual.
But this kid…She didn't look entirely Western.
A lot of Western girls around her age have freckles or strong, angular noses. This doll-like girl had softer, more East Asian features mixed in.
A mixed kid?
Her complexion was porcelain white, her eyes sharp yet adorably expressive. She was pouting slightly too, which—unfortunately—just made her even cuter. One of those looks that activates dangerous instincts in people.
Somebody is probably thinking: Is it even scientifically possible for evolution to create something this perfect?
She felt like she came from a different world entirely—completely detached from the rest of us mere mortals shuffling through the station.
And it didn't stop there. Her clothes were unbelievably cute. Almost offensively cute.
She wore a short white blouse trimmed with embroidered flowers, a black skirt with a little belt, and pale pink stockings on her small, slender legs. Her tiny princess shoes even sparkled with fake gemstones.
If someone shrank her down and sold her as a collectible doll, she'd be a bestseller.
Right now she was pulling a red suitcase with one hand and holding a folded sheet of paper with the other, comparing it to the station map with intense concentration.
Was… she lost?
Did this doll-like kid come to China on holiday? Did she get separated from her parents? She probably didn't speak any Chinese either, right?
She stared at the map a long time, getting visibly more agitated.
Even so, she still had this air of stubborn pride—like she refused to ask for help.
Without thinking, I stepped toward her.
Don't misunderstand—I'm NOT one of those shameless lolicons from the H-manga my dad sells. I just felt like helping a kid who looked lost in a foreign country.
…And aside from that, something felt weirdly familiar about her. Not like I'd met her, exactly—more like there was some strange connection I couldn't explain.
Of course, my English is catastrophically bad.
Would we even understand each other?
I forced a friendly smile. "Hi~"
Let's hope she didn't get scared off by my face.
She turned toward me with caution in her eyes.
She was tall for her age, maybe, but still only around 140 cm. If she stared straight ahead she'd be looking at my chest.
Which meant she had to tilt her head way back to meet my eyes—and she did so with a look of utter contempt. Like she was royalty and I was a peasant who hadn't learned proper kneeling etiquette.
Since she was already acting stuck-up—and since I can't speak English—I froze.
After glaring at me for several seconds, she sucked in a breath, visibly outraged.
"Look—"
Was that English? "Look"? Or was I hallucinating?
"—WHAT are you staring at!!?"
She screamed it in perfect Chinese.
The entire hall turned to look.
No doubt about it—that was fluent Chinese. Clear pronunciation. Perfect tone. And filled to the brim with scorn.
Her temper was WAY too foul. I was only trying to help!
"Comrade—no, sorry—international friend, I think you may be misunderstanding. Are you lost?"
"You're lost!" she snapped, and without warning charged forward and kicked my shin.
Her sparkly princess shoe hit bone.
It HURT. I doubled over, gripping my leg.
"Hey—! You can't just kick people like—"
Before I could even finish, she stepped forward and slapped me across the face.
SLAP.
The sound echoed through the entire station.
My cheek stung like crazy. I admit it—I underestimated her. It didn't injure me or anything, but still, I wasn't about to fight back against a kid.
She didn't even care. She just furrowed her brows, crumpled the paper in her hand, and chucked it straight at my face.
Instinctively, I caught it.
By the time I looked up, she was already bolting away with her suitcase, twin-tails bouncing violently.
"Pervert! Go die!" she yelled over her shoulder.
She kept glancing back as she ran, probably terrified I'd chase her.
Her golden twin-tails disappeared into the crowd.
I didn't chase her—otherwise I'd definitely get labeled the predator here. Even now people were staring at me like I'd committed a crime.
A mother picking up her kid immediately hid him behind her.
Lady… you do realize your kid is a boy, right? Why are you acting like I'm interested in him? And for the love of god, please wipe that giant glob of snot off his face.
I walked home drowning in despair.
Dad waited until I stepped inside before turning on the stove and telling me dinner would be ready soon. He didn't ask why I was late—mostly because his sense of time is nonexistent.
While waiting for food, I plopped onto my bed and stared at the ceiling, replaying the entire day.
It felt like I'd lived an entire lifetime in a single afternoon.
I was exhausted.
Something poked my thigh. I reached into my pocket—and pulled out the paper the doll threw at me in the station.
Curious, I unfolded it.
The paper itself was fancy—thick, smooth, probably expensive. Even the ink smelled nice.
The contents, however…
The top half was in English. I couldn't read a single word.
The bottom half mixed in a few Chinese characters: "Dongshan Lake," "West District," "First Year, Qingzi Middle School."
Wasn't that the elite private school where all the rich kids go?
So she wasn't a tourist—she was a student there?
Her Chinese handwriting looked like an elementary schooler's scribble. Thinking about her arrogant little face made it even funnier. Her English, though, was flawless.
At the bottom were several names:
"Amir" "Emir" "Imir" "AiMir"
The first three were crossed out in red. The last one was circled.
So this tiny tyrant… picked AiMir as her Chinese name?
Honestly, "AiMir" sounds sweet—'honey-like,' even. But her personality? Toxic. She's the type you admire from a safe distance—or maybe pose as a decorative doll in a store window.
Not someone you approach unless you enjoy getting kicked and slapped.
We probably won't ever meet again, and honestly? Good. I'd be perfectly happy never seeing her again.
I crumpled the paper and tossed it in the trash.
Dad called me for dinner.
And that was the end of my extremely stupid, extremely long day.