8 – Slender and Supple Waist
Huo Yuzhou listened to her words that were practically talking herself into a death sentence, and lowered his eyelids.
How could he not know he was coughing himself half to death?
Slapping accusations on him behind his back?
“What does that have to do with me?” With that, Huo Yuzhou pulled away from her touch. “You should know, here, you and I are in the relationship of head instructor and trainee!”
Song Yuan’s hand came up empty, and she smiled suddenly. “That much energy?”
“Bet you’d be pretty fierce in bed, huh?”
Huo Yuzhou stared at her, his pitch-black fierce eyes wrapped in an unfathomable danger bearing down on her. “Oh? Can’t get your man at home going anymore?”
Song Yuan looked at him. “He can’t even keep up with his medicine—how’s he supposed to get going?”
With that, her slender, jade-like hand lightly landed on his solid chest, her eyelids lifting slightly to meet his gloomy black eyes. Even the face covering couldn’t hide the high bridge of his nose. “Not like you—you’re really hard!”
At this moment, she was like a female demon spirit that could drain one’s very essence.
The teasing in her eyes was dripping with seduction.
Huo Yuzhou grabbed her slender wrist, his fierce gaze reflecting her allure at this moment, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth beneath the face covering. “Missing some discipline?”
“Know what? I like ’em with a slim waist and soft body!”
Song Yuan felt the breadth and heat of his palm through the white bandage, which wrapped from his thumb across to the knuckles of his four fingers, landing on her skin with a faint tickle. “How do you know I’m not slim and soft if you don’t feel for yourself?”
Huo Yuzhou stared at her, enunciating each word through gritted teeth. “When you’re hungry, you fill your stomach with food!”
“One cup of hot soy milk isn’t enough to stave off the hunger!”
With that, he directly pulled away from Song Yuan’s touch, turned, and left.
Song Yuan’s hand still retained the sensation of him gripping her wrist and sliding it down from his chest.
His muscles were really hard!
So, was he playing hard to get?
Or was it a game of reeling in the fish by letting the line go slack?
From what she could tell, if she slept with him, they’d probably break the bed.
Song Yuan looked up, staring at his retreating figure—back straight, neck tall, clad in camouflage, with a unique black insignia on his shoulder wrapped in gold thread that no one else had but him. He wore black combat boots with his pant legs tucked in, his camouflage pants hugging thick, powerful thighs, with a black tourniquet strapped tightly to the right side.
His entire being radiated an untamable wolf-like wildness and raw masculinity.
Head instructor?
Interesting.
Song Yuan picked up the soy milk and took a sip. It was quite thick.
Outdoor shooting range.
Only a single light was on in the distance, and the brightness inside the range was low—easy for your aim to drift when lining up with the targets.
Ling Ran. Bang, bang, bang.
Dead center, every single shot hitting the bullseye.
“Third Brother, how can you shoot this accurately even in the dark?”
He Chuan had just come over from the main district’s training base. Those little brats had been put through extra drills—a five-kilometer weighted run—and they were howling and crying to him about it, but not one of them dared utter a word of complaint to Huo Yuzhou.
Perfect timing, he’d come to check out what was going on here.
“How’s it going tonight?”
“Did Sister-in-law notice anything?”
He was curious.
Song Yuan—sure, she seemed indifferent to everything, going about things in a careless, unhurried way, never fighting or competing for anything, and she was the jewel of the Song family that no one could touch.
But really, she was sharp!
Her mind was no worse than any of theirs, and she was never one to take a loss.
Huo Yuzhou, who had already shed his disguise, heard him bring it up, holstered his gun, and tucked it into the holster strapped to his thigh.
He’d never imagined that one day he’d end up putting a green hat on his own head!
But on second thought, it was fine—after all, it wasn’t someone else putting it on him.
And this way, it could grind out the feelings between the two of them.
He’d also see what kind of game she could play.
“No.”
He Chuan popped open the cigarette pack, pulled out two, and handed one over. “That’s good then.”
“I heard from those little brats that you sent them off for extra training because of some beauty?”
“Who?”
Huo Yuzhou heard him asking what he already knew, took the cigarette, bit the filter, and lit it. His cheeks hollowed slightly as he took a drag, smoke curling past the corner of his mouth and brushing his nose. “Tomorrow, have Song Qi’s group continue the extra training.”
He Chuan laughed. “More training? He’s about done for.”
Sky, earth, sea—there wasn’t a single ordeal they hadn’t been put through.
Huo Yuzhou flicked his ash. “You’ve already been giving him special treatment on the side. How can we not train him properly?”
He Chuan heard that and knew nothing got past him.
“Forget I said anything.”
Huo Yuzhou glanced at him, a rare hint of a smile surfacing in his eyes.
He Chuan suppressed his own smile and glanced at the pistol at his thigh. A chill inexplicably crawled up from the soles of his feet, and the hand holding the cigarette gave a slight tremor. “Third Brother, don’t smile—it’s creepy as hell.”
Huo Yuzhou lowered his eyes, his tone flat. “Keep an eye on Song Qi.”
He Chuan had genuinely thought a plate of fried rice had pissed him off, but hearing this, his brow relaxed. “That’s nothing.”
The training base was divided into four zones.
Each zone was an hour’s drive apart. Given the training regimen in Song Qi’s area, just getting a breath of rest was a blessing—nothing like the old days when he was a rich young master chauffeured around, living only for pleasure.
“He’s terrified of running into you now. Knowing you’re here, he wouldn’t dare walk into the line of fire.”
Song Qi had been on edge ever since that one slip-up.
He was terrified that one night he’d wake up to find a gun pressed against his forehead—and the one holding it would be Huo Yuzhou.
“Speaking of which, that reminds me—I heard from Tan Yanchuan that the gunshot wound on your waist was stitched up again?”
“What kind of intense activity did you get up to? Something that involved your waist?”
Huo Yuzhou shot him a cold glare. “Curious? Next time, why don’t you crawl under the bed and watch?”
He Chuan was left speechless. Did he dare?
If he actually did that, Huo Yuzhou would gouge out his eyes and drag him up the mountain to feed the wolves!
Just like that, before he’d even finished one cigarette, Huo Yuzhou took the private elevator up to the base commander’s office.
He didn’t have much of a smoking habit, but his appetites were enormous!
Office lounge area.
Facial recognition.
The door slid open automatically.
Inside was a top-tier luxury suite—bedroom, kitchen, dining room, bathroom, and study all fully equipped, decorated in a monochrome palette of gray, white, and black. The styling was starkly minimal.
He stripped off his black tank top, revealing every scar on his body. A knife wound lingered on his flank—neither long nor short—while two gunshot scars marked his shoulder blades. His eight-pack abs tapered into a V-line that disappeared beneath his waistband, where veins traced down into the shadows.
From his right shoulder down to his chest wound a serpent tattoo, coiled with bared fangs.
On closer inspection, there were faint marks of bite wounds on the serpent’s body, carrying an indistinct, sultry air.
From that night half a month ago.
Song Yuan’s bite.
The stitched wound on his flank was vicious, yet he seemed to feel no pain at all as he stepped into the bathroom. The patter of water droplets drummed ceaselessly against the floor.
Back in her dorm, Song Yuan took a shower.
In the bathroom, the head instructor’s figure kept surfacing in her mind unbidden. The hotter the water, the hotter she felt.
After she got out, Song Yuan lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling, and texted Su Hua on her phone—
[I think I’m falling in love.]
Su Hua replied quickly: [You’ve only been away from home for a few hours and you’re already dropping a bombshell on me?]
[How old is he?]
Song Yuan: [Within the acceptable range.]
Su Hua: [Did you pull his pants down to check?]
Song Yuan: [I kind of want to.]
Su Hua: [You’ve got some nerve!]
[Careful—your husband might pull YOUR pants down and give you a spanking!]
Song Yuan stared at that message and suddenly remembered she was still carrying a marriage certificate. [What if I… get a divorce?]
With Huo Yuzhou, aside from their considerable contact in bed, she’d never felt her heart flutter around him—only her body trembled. But this head instructor today was different. One look at him and she was already burning with the urge to tackle him.
Her heart felt like an EKG monitor, beeping endlessly.
Su Hua: [What if this one’s all bark and no bite, and you divorce the other one, and you end up with nothing? What’s your plan then?]
[Besides, Huo Yuzhou is no pushover.]
That one remark snapped Song Yuan back to reality.
Maybe she should wait and see?
It wasn’t like Huo Yuzhou knew what she was up to here anyway.
Three years of marriage and she still didn’t know what he even looked like. As a husband, he was useless—except for that one thing in bed.
If she could land this man, wouldn’t she have both the heart-flutter and the action?
Go straight for it!
If she couldn’t grab him with one hand, she’d use both!
The thought was pretty satisfying.
Even her dreams that night were warm and wet.
At five in the morning.
The alarm blared.
Xu Su, the first to wake, rushed over to call Song Yuan. “Sis, time to assemble.”
Song Yuan opened her eyes, still dazed, but hearing the hurried footsteps in the hallway and looking at the flustered Xu Su, she suddenly remembered—this was the base variety show.
She’d almost lost herself in that spring dream.
She immediately grabbed the camo uniform from her bedside and shoved her feet into her boots as she charged into the hallway.
This morning’s rush was more brutal than when the old man made her climb mountains.
If it weren’t for Huo Yuzhou, would she be suffering like this?
Without thinking, she added another mark against his name.
Assembly point.
Standing before the formation, Huo Yuzhou was timing them with a stopwatch, his gaze sweeping over the trainees hurrying in from the dormitory area.
He was counting heads.
Thirty seconds left.
Only then did he spot Song Yuan’s figure—her clean, palm-sized face still carrying traces of sleepiness, muttering something under her breath. But Huo Yuzhou, who could read lips, knew at a glance she was cursing him.
He looked down at the stopwatch. Ten seconds left.
Just as Song Yuan was about to step into formation, someone suddenly bumped into her.
Her feet tangled. She stumbled.
Suddenly, her lower back met a solid arm.
Song Yuan twisted her head around and met the head instructor’s gaze. On instinct, she reached out to wrap her arms around his neck.
The next second, he withdrew his hand and barked the order—
“Time’s up!”