Top Soldier Pursued by a Beauty

In the bedroom, Han Qingtian lay on the ground in a pool of his own blood.

Zhao Dong was shocked, but he reacted instantly and rushed over. He took Han Qingtian's wrist, and after a moment, let out a sigh of relief. The old man wasn't dead; he was still breathing. As long as there was a breath left, he could be saved.

Zhao Dong rapidly circulated the Mysterious Heaven Cultivation Technique, imbuing Han Qingtian's body with a thread of Spiritual Energy before quickly pressing several of his acupoints. Within moments, Han Qingtian's eyes fluttered open. He was startled to see Zhao Dong, and in his agitated state, he immediately spat out a mouthful of blood.

"Elder, don't get emotional! Stay calm," Zhao Dong said hastily.

Han Qingtian was no ordinary man. He managed to calm himself in a few seconds and looked at Zhao Dong. "Zhao Dong, I owe it all to you. If it weren't for you, I would have lost my life here today."

"Elder, what happened? How did you get injured?" Zhao Dong asked in a deep voice.

Enduring the severe pain, Han Qingtian explained, "An expert of unknown origin infiltrated the Han Family. He killed all our bodyguards and stealthily reached my room. I was caught off guard by his surprise attack, and in the final moment, I held my breath and feigned death. The man seemed anxious and rushed out again, just five or six minutes before you arrived."

Zhao Dong's pupils suddenly narrowed. "Elder, is Chuxue at home?"

Han Qingtian's expression changed instantly. "Oh no!"

Meanwhile, in a garden villa at the rear of the Han Family estate, Han Chuxue sat on her balcony, looking through various documents. Han Qingtian had recently entrusted her with great responsibility. He was preparing her to help manage the conglomerate and wanted her to start working at the corporation soon.

At that moment, however, Han Chuxue's mind was wandering. For some unknown reason, she found herself thinking of Zhao Dong. Ever since his last visit to the Han residence, she often thought of him, and recalling her cousin Han Churan's obvious admiration and coquettish behavior toward him left her feeling quite unhappy for days. Even though I hate him, he still took my first time. In a way, that makes him my man. I can decide I don't want him, but I will never allow another woman to possess him.

The thought of how tender Han Churan had been with Zhao Dong made her blood boil. As she stewed in her thoughts, she grew angrier, slapping the table and muttering quietly, "Zhao Dong, you scoundrel! You pervert! You're so brazen and shameless! After sleeping with me, are you still planning to pursue something with Han Churan? Disgraceful! I hate you!"

As she muttered, her face flushed. Then she thought about how she hadn't seen or heard from Zhao Dong in several days, and an indescribable feeling stirred in her heart. I want to see him... but only to scold him! Yes, that's it! Just to scold him!

She firmed her resolve, but just then, she heard footsteps behind her. Frowning, she turned and was startled to see a figure dressed entirely in black, including a black mask, approaching her.

"You... who are you?!" Han Chuxue exclaimed in shock.

The black-clad man didn't answer. He flashed in front of her and struck her chest with his palm.

Han Chuxue spat a mouthful of bright red blood, the force of the blow sending her flying backward. The strike had shattered the meridians and blood vessels inside her. Even if he did nothing more, she would die soon.

Lying on the ground, blood spilling from her lips, she couldn't get up. She stared at the masked man in despair, using the last of her strength to rasped, "Who... who are you? Why... do you want to kill me..."

The man didn't reply. A dagger appeared in his hand as he stepped closer.

Han Chuxue closed her eyes, a single tear rolling from the corner. She knew she wouldn't survive. Why... why am I thinking of Zhao Dong at a time like this? Am I going to die without ever having a proper conversation with him, the man who took my virginity?

With a swirl of myriad emotions in her heart, she let her tears flow silently. She had completely despaired.

The masked man reached her, raising the dagger to plunge it into her snow-white neck. Just as the blade was about to pierce her skin, a pebble shot through the air and struck the man's wrist.

A spray of blood erupted. A bloody hole appeared on his wrist, and the man let out a low growl of pain as the dagger clattered uselessly to the ground.

Turning his head, he grimaced and asked hoarsely, "Who are you?"

At that moment, Han Chuxue also realized someone had arrived. She opened her eyes, and when she saw the newcomer, she looked at him in disbelief. "Zhao Dong?! You... how did you get here?"

Looking at Han Chuxue on the ground, Zhao Dong felt a pang of heartache. After all, this was his woman.

"Chuxue, hang in there! I'll save you after I deal with him," Zhao Dong said solemnly. He turned his gaze to the masked man. "Why are you targeting the Han Family? What's your grudge with them?"

The masked man replied slowly in his hoarse voice, "I have no grudge against the Han Family. I'm just getting paid to do a job."

Zhao Dong frowned. "Then tell me, who's your employer?"

The man let out a dark chuckle. "You're not worthy to know. Prepare to die."

The last word had barely left his lips when his body blurred into an afterimage, a fist already hurtling toward Zhao Dong.

Zhao Dong cracked his wrists, a cold smile on his face. He took a single step forward, yet his body shot out like an arrow, creating a gust of wind as he met the masked man head-on.

They both threw a punch.

A muffled THUD echoed as they both staggered back a few steps. Zhao Dong's gaze was icy as he unleashed his footwork, his speed surging exponentially as he attacked again. The punch was incredibly fast, reaching the masked man in less than half a breath. But at the last moment, the man's head tilted slightly, and he dodged it.

Zhao Dong was shocked. Before he could react, the masked man brought a hand-chop down on his elbow. A burst of intense pain shot through Zhao Dong, but he gritted his teeth and endured it, fiercely smashing his other elbow toward the man's face. The masked man blocked with one hand while punching Zhao Dong squarely in the abdomen.

At the same time, Zhao Dong's elbow connected. The masked man coughed up a mouthful of blood from the force of the strike. Zhao Dong, for his part, was left dizzy from the punch to his gut, his stomach churning. Both men retreated explosively, only to clash again in the next second like two whirlwinds.

Their movements were a dizzying blur, impossible to follow clearly. Zhao Dong's fists and feet fell like rain, his assault growing more ferocious by the second. The assassin seemed distracted, his resolve wavering, and his movements began to slow. Finally, Zhao Dong saw his chance and smashed a fist into the man's chest.

A sickening CRACK echoed as the man's sternum shattered. He tumbled backward and hit the ground hard. Zhao Dong pressed his advantage, his body flickering forward as his legs became a blur, landing repeated kicks on the downed man. The man let out a series of deep groans, clearly not expecting Zhao Dong's assault to be so savage.

Zhao Dong took a deep breath, and Spiritual Energy converged in his right fist. With a low roar, he hammered his fist down onto the man's legs.

CRACK! CRACK!

The sound of shattering bone was accompanied by two bursts of blood mist. Zhao Dong had brutally smashed the man's legs into a bloody pulp.

"AHHH!!!" The man's eyes were wide with agony as he howled at the sky. Zhao Dong silenced him with a punch to the mouth, sending a spray of bloody teeth flying.

Zhao Dong landed several more punches on the man's chest, causing him to spurt blood wildly. Under the relentless barrage, his bones fractured, and he collapsed to the ground, motionless and barely clinging to life.

With an icy gaze, Zhao Dong kicked the mask off, revealing the face of a middle-aged man. He stepped on the man's throat, his eyes piercingly cold as he demanded, "Speak. Who are you, and who sent you?"

The man pleaded urgently, "I'll talk... I'll talk, sir! Please, don't kill me. Spare my life."

"You're in no position to bargain with me."

Zhao Dong's gaze was as sharp as a blade. The man trembled with fear and opened his mouth to speak, but in the next second, his expression suddenly changed. His face turned deathly pale and contorted in pain as his entire body began to convulse uncontrollably.

Zhao Dong frowned. Before he could react, the man spat out a mouthful of black blood. His body went rigid, and his pupils dilated. Startled, Zhao Dong hurriedly pried the man's mouth open. What he saw made his pupils contract.

He was poisoned... But by whom?

Seeing the man was dead, Zhao Dong had no choice but to abandon the interrogation and save Han Chuxue. He rushed to her side to find her eyes closed, her breathing faint, and her life force almost completely extinguished.

Zhao Dong trembled, unable to help but cry out, "Chuxue, you... don't scare me!"

There was no response. His heart sank. Without another thought, he picked her up, rushed into her bedroom, and locked the door.

He placed her on the bed, took a deep breath, and quickly removed her clothes. He still had a spare silver needle in his pocket. Gritting his teeth, he took out a lighter to briefly sterilize the needle before inserting it into various acupoints on her body. After inserting thirteen needles, Zhao Dong's face was pale. His own Spiritual Energy had been channeled into Han Chuxue's body through the needles, consuming a great deal of his reserves.

He checked her pulse again, and his heart sank further. Although there was some improvement, it was far from enough.

Taking another deep breath, Zhao Dong drew the curtains. He propped Han Chuxue into a seated, cross-legged position, supporting her as he placed both his hands on her chest.

"Chuxue, don't blame me," he muttered, "this is the only way I can save you."

Zhao Dong clenched his jaw and began the treatment.

An hour later, as Zhao Dong completed the final step, he couldn't hold on any longer. A wave of utter exhaustion washed over him. He desperately needed to rest. He finally gave in and collapsed beside Han Chuxue.

He had no idea how long he'd slept. In a hazy state, he felt an indescribable sensation. Groggily opening his eyes, he saw Han Chuxue... who seemed to be on top of him?

Am I dreaming?

Before he could process it, the crushing fatigue pulled him under again, and his eyelids drifted shut. This time, it felt like he slept so soundly he lost all track of time. His consciousness gradually returned, and he slowly opened his eyes.

The first thing he saw was Han Chuxue's enchanting, snow-like face. She was lying in his arms, her own beautiful eyes gazing quietly at him.

Zhao Dong was stunned. He rubbed his eyes. "Am I dreaming?"

Han Chuxue's gaze was profound, her beautiful face holding a trace of complexity. "Zhao Dong, you're not dreaming. It's me."

"Then... why are you in my... arms?"