The quiet street erupted into chaos as eight men emerged from the shadows, their intentions clearly hostile. Jingshen's protective instincts kicked into overdrive as he positioned himself in front of Meilin, his eyes darting from one threat to another.
"Stay behind me," he growled, his voice low and determined.
Meilin's heart raced, but not from fear. Her fingers twitched, muscle memory urging her to fight. Instead, she made a subtle hand gesture, a silent command to the shadow guards in the darkness: Stand down. Don't interfere.
One of the figures lunged forward, a cruel glint in his eye. Zhao Jingshen reacted with lightning speed, blocking the punch and delivering a swift counterattack. A flurry of punches and kicks ensued, the air thick with grunts and the thud of flesh against flesh.
Meilin watched, her initial concern disappeared on seeing how Zhao Jingshen could hold his own. She saw the determination in his eyes, the way he fought to keep her safe despite the odds. It was touching, but she knew she couldn't let him keep fighting alone.
When Meilin noticed that the fight didn't seem to be winding down, she made her decision. Secret be damned – she wouldn't let him get injured for her sake.
In a fluid motion that spoke of years of training, Meilin vaulted over Jingshen's side. She landed in a crouch before the startled attackers, a predatory gleam in her eyes.
"My turn, boys," she purred, her voice a mix of excitement and danger.
The first man barely had time to register his surprise before Meilin was on him. She moved with a grace that belied her deadly intent, her small frame a blur of precise strikes. Her elbow connected with his solar plexus, driving the air from his lungs. As he doubled over, she brought her knee up, catching him squarely in the face. He dropped like a stone.
Pivoting on her heel, Meilin faced the next two attackers. They rushed her simultaneously, thinking to overwhelm her with brute force. But Meilin was ready. She ducked under a wild swing, using the man's momentum against him. With a swift leg sweep, she sent him crashing into his companion. Both went down in a tangle of limbs.
Jingshen watched in awe as Meilin dispatched opponent after opponent. Despite his initial concern, He couldn't help but be surprised by her resilience. As he danced around the attackers, he caught glimpses of her fighting with a ferocity he hadn't expected. Her movements were swift and precise, honed by years of training she'd never mentioned. A glint of suspicion flashed in his eye as he continued to watch her.
One of the attackers lunged towards Meilin, but she sidestepped with ease, grabbing his arm and twisting it with a sickening crack. An agonized scream ripped through the night.
"Whoa there," Jingshen called out, momentarily stopping his own scuffle. "She can clearly handle herself."
Meilin met his gaze and laughed, the sound incongruously light in the midst of the brawl. "Oh, you know," she said breezily, ducking under another punch, " Living on the streets, you pick up a few things. Thanks for the vote of confidence though," she quipped, landing a solid kick on another attacker's knee, sending him crumpling to the ground.
Her playful tone was at odds with the efficiency of her movements as she continued to disable her attackers. Jingshen couldn't help but chuckle, despite the gravity of the situation. "Remind me never to get on your bad side," he joked.
Meilin turned to reply, a grin spreading across her face. But in that moment of distraction, she missed the glint of metal in the dim light.
The crack of a gunshot shattered the night.
Meilin's eyes widened in surprise as she looked down at her stomach. A dark stain was spreading across her shirt, the fabric quickly becoming saturated with blood.
Suddenly, a new figure appeared on the scene. Jingshen's eyes widened in recognition, but Meilin showed no surprise. She had known all along that Jingshen's personal bodyguard had been shadowing them throughout their adventure.
Zhao Jingshen, shaken by the near miss, rushed to Meilin's side, his heart hammering in his chest. A cold dread filled him as he saw a blooming stain spreading across her shirt.
"Meilin!" Jingshen's anguished cry cut through the silence, catching her as she stumbled.
Despite the pain blossoming in her abdomen, Meilin's first instinct was to scan the shadows. She could sense her shadow guards tensing, ready to spring into action. With the last of her strength, she made a subtle gesture: Stay hidden.
Jingshen lowered her gently to the ground, his face a mask of worry and guilt. "This is all my fault," he muttered, his voice thick with emotion. "I should have protected you better."
Meilin tried to laugh, but it came out as more of a pained wheeze. "Don't be silly," she managed to say. "It's just a scratch. I've had worse paper cuts."
Her attempt at humor fell flat as Jingshen quickly stripped off his shirt, bunching it up to apply pressure to the wound. The grey fabric quickly turned crimson, but Jingshen didn't seem to notice or care about the blood staining his hands.
Jingshen's eyes hardened as he looked at the man who had shot Meilin. When he spoke, his voice was cold and commanding – the voice of a CEO used to having his orders obeyed without question.
"Cripple him," Jingshen said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Make sure he never holds a gun or anything again... And call an ambulance"
Chen Mu nodded once, his face impassive as he set about his grim task. As Chen Mu dialed with one hand, his other moved with terrifying efficiency. He grabbed the attacker who had shot Meilin, squeezing his wrists until a sickening crack echoed through the night. The night air was soon filled with the shooter's agonized screams.
Zhao Jingshen was already dialing another number, he needed to make sure none of the thugs could escape.
Meilin watched this unfold through half-lidded eyes, her breathing becoming more labored. She wanted to tell Jingshen that it wasn't necessary, that she had endured far worse, But the words wouldn't come. The world was starting to grow fuzzy around the edges, the pain in her stomach fading to a dull throb.
He held Meilin close, his voice a low murmur as he pressed a hand to the growing stain on her shirt. "Hang in there, Meilin. Help is on its way."
"Stay with me, Meilin," Jingshen pleaded, his voice sounding far away. He held his phone, frantically calling for emergency services. "Help is on the way. Just hold on."
Meilin's vision swam, the pain in her stomach a dull ache. But through the haze, she saw the raw fear and concern etched on Zhao Jingshen's face. It was a stark contrast to the composed CEO she had met just a week ago.
Then, everything went black.