Apparently, Li Qiao did not want to discuss much about Shang Lu calling off the engagement.
A baby betrothal of unknown origin, having it called off was exactly what she desired.
At this moment, Li Cheng was nestled in a high-backed computer chair, legs crossed in an elegant and carefree posture, especially with that lazy demeanor, identical to Li Qiao's.
He tilted his chin up slightly, his resolute face wearing an indulgent smile, "Don't want to talk?"
Li Qiao looked up at him and casually tossed the handgun back into his embrace, then leaned back, supporting herself with her hands behind her as she sat at the edge of the bed, her expression detached, "Mhm."
Probably only in front of her third brother, Li Cheng, could Li Qiao's true emotions naturally reveal themselves.
Li Cheng narrowed his dark, cold eyes, a fierce light hiding in their depths, "Then let's not talk about it. I'll get back at him for the grievances you've suffered there."
Li Qiao, sitting on the edge of the bed, kicked her toes lightly, her gaze falling on the black trench coat hanging behind the chair, but the image of another person's black silhouette surfaced in her mind.
Her brow was tinged with impatience as she asked languidly, "Tired from rushing back from the border?"
"Not tired, what do you want to do?" Li Cheng had always indulged Li Qiao with no limits.
Seeing this, a different kind of fervor briefly tainted those always carefree eyes of Li Qiao, as if they were veiled in mist, "The usual rule?"
"No problem, let's go!"
As he spoke, Li Cheng stood up, and with a broad palm, roughly ruffled the top of Li Qiao's head before the siblings went straight to the parking lot.
About five minutes later, two Ferrari sports cars drove out of the Li Family gate.
The sleek lines of the car body cut through the evening haze, and the roaring sound of the engines seemed as if they could shield all worldly troubles.
...
At seven in the evening, at the Bolan Shooting Range.
Li Qiao, wearing protective goggles and earplugs, stood in front of a private shooting booth, dressed in a black shooting outfit that highlighted her skin as white as snow, her hair tied into a ponytail that hung behind her head, exuding a cool and brisk temperament like a winter plum in the cold.
It seemed only while standing at the shooting range did Li Qiao's casual demeanor completely vanish.
She looked down at the civilian handgun on the table, weighed the grip in her hand, its weight and feel incomparable to the ones manufactured under her third brother's brand.
Li Qiao picked up the magazine, skillfully assembled it, and the next second, she straightened her arm and fired three shots at the target in front of her.
Two shots in the ten ring, one in the eight ring.
For that result, Li Qiao's eyes narrowed slightly in dissatisfaction.
She moved her wrist, aiming at the center of the target once more, and fired several continuous shots.
The tremendous force of the bullets flying out of the magazine, accompanied by the sound of tearing through the air, resounded almost non-stop inside the private shooting range.
In less than an hour, Li Qiao had fired a hundred rounds, until her trigger finger went numb; then she emotionlessly tossed aside the handgun, propped herself up with one hand on the shooting table, and rubbed her forehead as she spoke in a deep, hoarse voice, "No more shooting..."
Li Cheng had been sitting the entire time on a rest chair behind her, his long legs stretched out, his crossed ankles occasionally shaking slightly.
Hearing Li Qiao speak, he glanced at the recorder, licked his teeth, and said with a smile that wasn't quite a smile, "You hit twenty-three eight rings, with this score, at the border, that's enough for you to die a hundred times."
Li Cheng knew his sister well; tonight's shooting results only meant one thing, her mind was not at peace.
At this moment, Li Qiao rubbed her forearm and turned to look at Li Cheng, a slight redness in her eyes, "Li San, do you know Shang Shaoyan?"
Her question was straightforward, as light from her doe's eyes seemed to be veiled in gloom, showing no signs of life.
"Shang Shaoyan?" Li Cheng drew back his legs, propped his elbows on his knees and leaned slightly forward, "The one from Yan Emperor Group?"
Li Qiao walked up to him, picked up the Energy Drink from the table, took a big gulp, and responded with a raised eyebrow, "Yes, do you know him?"