Laying comfortably on his left shoulder was the little Snow Frost Star Wolf, nestled like a fluffy scarf. Its pristine white fur shimmered under the sunlight, and its bright blue eyes blinked contentedly.

  Mo Fan gave the pup a fond scratch behind the ears. “Alright, time to go see my other little angel,” he said with a smile tugging at his lips.

  “Awuu~” the little wolf let out a soft, happy howl, not quite understanding who Mo Fan was referring to but picking up on the warmth in his voice.

  If this person was someone precious to his master, then he would welcome them too.

  “It’s already been three years…” Mo Fan muttered as his expression softened. “She must’ve grown up a lot by now.”

  A gentle smile touched his lips as an image of a little girl surfaced in his mind — the young, sharp-tongued genius prodigy from the Clearsky Hunter Agency. Her Large pearly eyes, her mature but curious attitude, and her adorable short temper… Lingling.

  He chuckled. “I wonder if she still remembers me.”

  Mo Fan stood before a small, three-story building settled at the edge of the street. It hadn’t changed much — same old polished wooden panels, same vintage gss sign reading: Clearsky Hunter Agency. It was smaller than most hunters agencies in Shanghai, but it had character. This pce was once like a second home to him.

  In his hand, he held a neatly wrapped box of Ferrero Rocher chocotes tied with a golden satin ribbon — a little gift for the reunion for the sweet tooth girl. A nostalgic warmth welled up in his chest as he took a deep breath and pushed the gss door open.

  Ding-ling~

  The familiar chime rang out, clear and sweet.

  Inside, the building was just as he remembered. A cozy lounge area lined with worn but well-kept sofas sat to the right, bathed in the soft afternoon light filtering in through the windows. The scent of old books, polished wood, and faint coffee filled the air. The vintage-styled reception bar at the center still looked like something pulled out of an old detective novel — cquered in deep brown with bronze trimming.

  He stepped inside and casually took a seat on one of the tall bar stools. His gaze scanned the quiet surroundings, his heart swelling with memories. Back in his previous life, he’d spent countless hours here — chatting with Old Bao, discussing missions with Lingling, or simply escaping the chaos of the outside world with the beautiful Leng Qing.

  With a grin, he reached over and pressed the small brass bell resting on the counter.

  Ding-ding~

  The chime echoed pleasantly through the empty lobby. Mo Fan leaned forward slightly, half-expecting the grumpy yet dependable Old Bao to appear from the staircase, or if he was lucky enough — the little genius herself.

  Then again… he gnced at the clock on the wall. It was still early afternoon.

  “Oh right… Lingling’s probably still in school,” he murmured, chuckling to himself.

  Still, he stayed where he was, resting his chin on one hand as Little Wolfy sat quietly on his p. There was no rush. For now, he w yet dependable Old Bao to appear from the staircase, or if he was lucky enough — the little genius herself.

  Still, he stayed where he was, resting his chin on one hand as Little Wolfy sat quietly on his p. There was no rush. For now, he was content just soaking in the nostalgia of this peaceful little corner of his past.

  Five minutes ticked by slowly. The warm chime of the little brass bell had long faded into stillness, and the agency remained silent as ever. Not a creak on the stairs, no footfalls, no voice. Just the occasional tick from the clock on the wall and the quiet hum of the city beyond the windows.

  Mo Fan sighed and slouched on the barstool, resting his cheek in his palm while absentmindedly stroking Little Wolfy, who had now curled up like a furball on the counter. The pup let out a soft yawn and swished his tail contentedly. But even the wolf cub seemed to grow bored of waiting after a while.

  “Well, looks like no one’s home,” Mo Fan muttered, lifting himself off the seat.

  With Little Wolfy trailing obediently behind him, he stepped out of the gss doors and into the small wn at the entrance. The sun was warm, and a soft summer breeze rustled the small hedge lining the path. Mo Fan sat down on one of the garden chairs under a modest umbrel and let the sunlight brush against his face.

  Just then, the sharp screech of tires cut through the peaceful air.

  SCREEECH—!

  A rge yellow school bus pulled to a stop directly in front of the agency. The doors hissed open.

  From it leapt a tiny whirlwind — a girl no older than nine, her twin pigtails bouncing behind her as she nded with practiced grace. Her cheeks were flushed from the sun, and she wore a slightly crooked elementary school uniform with one sock higher than the other. On her head sat a wide-brimmed summer hat that threatened to fly off with the breeze.

  A small schoolbag swung from one shoulder as she marched forward, determined and confident. She was a little disheveled, a little messy, but radiated pure energy.

  Mo Fan’s breath caught in his throat.

  There she was. Lingling.

  The little angel had grown, but that sharp gaze, those high-arched eyebrows, and that unconcealed pride in her eyes — those hadn’t changed a bit. He smiled uncontrolbly, sweetness rising in his chest like a tidal wave. His whole face softened, his eyes practically leaking honey.

  He wanted to run over and sweep her up into a hug, kiss her cheek, ruffle her hair, and tell her just how much he missed her.

  But—

  She spotted him.

  And immediately frowned.

  Her beautiful round eyes narrowed. Her brows knit together in an expression of extreme dissatisfaction. She stormed across the wn with tiny, angry steps, stopping right in front of Mo Fan.

  “That’s my spot,” she decred, folding her arms with an unmistakable huff. “Move!”

  Mo Fan blinked and then grinned.

  Of course, she didn’t remember him. She had only been six the st time they met. It’d be a miracle if she did.

  Still, watching her gre at him like a tiny warrior made him ugh.

  “Hmm?” Mo Fan tilted his head. “Are you talking about this spot?”

  Before she could answer, he leaned back zily and spread himself across the chair. “I dunno… it’s really comfy. I kind of don’t want to move.”

  “You Shameless—!” she sputtered, cheeks puffing in fury. Her little hands curled into fists.

  Just as Lingling raised her tiny backpack, ready to whack Mo Fan into next week, a familiar gruff voice echoed from the side entrance of the building.

  “Lingling, you’re back already?”

  Old Bao had returned, carrying a heavy bag of groceries in one arm and a crate of vegetables tucked under the other.

  His grizzled white beard twitched slightly as he caught sight of his granddaughter standing with puffed cheeks in front of a lounging stranger on her favorite wn chair.

  Lingling immediately turned and ran to him, her summer hat almost flying off.

  “Grandpa! There’s a bad man in the yard! He’s sitting on my chair and he’s not getting up, and he’s so annoying!”

  Old Bao adjusted his bag and narrowed his eyes toward the figure under the umbrel.

  He didn’t recognize the young man at first gnce. But then his eyes widened a bit.

  A bit older than he remembered. Taller. More defined jaw. Clean-cut with a hint of charm that rubbed Old Bao the wrong way — but also made him curious. Something about that zy grin…

  But it wasn’t until the tiny white pup trotted beside the boy and stood at his feet, curling its fluffy tail neatly around its body, that recognition suddenly hit him like a bolt of lightning.

  That fur. That unique frost aura. That starry glint in its deep blue eyes.

  “…That wolf…”

  Old Bao’s brow furrowed deeper. He stepped forward, slowly setting his bags aside. His sharp old hunter eyes focused like daggers.

  He pointed a thick, calloused finger straight at the boy.

  “You! You little brat,” Old Bao muttered, his voice low and dangerous.

  Mo Fan scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “Uh, I guess you do remember me, Old Bao.”

  Old Bao squinted harder. “Y’er that brat from three years ago!”

  Mo Fan stood up from the chair and bowed slightly. “Yeah, it’s nice to see you again, after so long.”

  “Kek! You sure grew up a lot huh!” Old Bao said as he almost didn’t recognized Mo Fan.

  Lingling looked from one to the other, confused. “Wait, Grandpa… you know this weird uncle?”

  “...” Mo Fan felt offended by Lingling’s words.

  “... I’m not even 20 yet Lingling...” He said feeling a bit dejected.

  Old Bao grunted, his face unreadable. “Didn’t know him well. He came here once, for a day. Left an impression, though. Not many people ask my son-in-w for help taming something so far above their league.”

  He gave Mo Fan a long look.

  “I kept a little eye on you since the things you told me that day.” Old Bao said to Mo Fan.

  Mo Fan immediately knew what he was talking about and nodded his head.

  “Heard your voice in that one video during Bo City’s disaster… Brave words, brat. But then you just disappeared. No news, no contact. Thought you were buried under that rubble with the rest since your award was collected by that Military Instructor.

  Mo Fan’s smile faltered a little.

  “Things… got complicated,” he said quietly. “But I’m back now.”

  Old Bao stared at him for a while longer, then finally let out a rough sigh.

  “Still a brat. But it takes some grit to raise a warrior-css creature with just your fists and stubbornness.”

  Little Wolfy let out a proud Awuu! As if seconding the praise.

  Lingling blinked in surprise. She looked down at the pup, suddenly seeing it in a different light. “Wait… that cute puppy is that strong?”

  “Cute?” Mo Fan raised an eyebrow, amused.

  “Hmph. Moderately acceptable,” Lingling corrected with a tiny nose tilt.

  Old Bao rubbed his temples. “You two are gonna drive me nuts.”

  Then he looked back at Mo Fan and added more seriously, “You here for something specific?”

  Mo Fan nodded. “Just wanted to visit. It’s been a while.”

  He reached into his space pocket and pulled out the box of Ferrero Rocher’s chocote.

  “And I brought chocotes for Lingling. Thought maybe she’d remember me, but…”

  He smiled sheepishly.

  Lingling squinted at the box, then looked at him again, her expression unreadable.

  “…I’ll decide if you’re still a bad man after I try these,” she decred, snatching the box and tucking it under her arm like treasure.

  Old Bao shook his head with a snort. “Well, come in then, brat. No point in standing out here. Let’s see what you’ve been up to.”

  As the three of them made their way inside, Little Wolfy barked once happily, his tail wagging.

  Home, even if just for a moment.