Fruit Store's Bottle

This is a hot-blooded story.
This is a story of growth.
#
Mo Shangjun, after an extraordinary encounter with a cunning fox, was as beautiful as a vase.
Rumor had it, she was capricious, crafty, a living rogue!
Ya Tianxing, the mysterious captain of the Ace Special Warfare, was as handsome as a devil.
Rumor had it, he was callous, brutal, a living tyrant!
In reality—
Both were high-level "appearance supremacists"!
The day they met, she was hanging onto Ace's shoulder with a hooligan’s flair, yet her words were earnestly persuasive, "If you want me, it's not impossible, but first, you've got to pay with your charm!"
"Deal!"
The gavel came down.
Thus, the emotional journey of the old fox and the young rogue began amidst a different type of fervor.
#
This is the story of two fiends, and when fiends clash head-on, if they want to avoid a life-or-death struggle, then the only option is to enjoy a thorough feast!
This is also a story of youthful ardor, with blood and tears. When the youth facing no regrets meets an increasingly powerful nation, what reason do we have not to be passionately stirred?
#
We love our country, so we have no regrets drenching our past weaknesses with sweat;
We love our country, so we selflessly guard the lives of strangers with our blood.
——Mo Shangjun
#
[The Chapter of Passion]
"Relying on oneself is too exhausting. Having a belief makes life a bit easier."
——What is your belief?
——You.

How Young Master Quan Pursues His Wife

Three simple words, delivered in a tone so calm and slightly indifferent.


Pu Yan and Sheng Xia's hearts skipped a beat.


The two of them whipped around abruptly.


However, with visibility extremely low, they could faintly hear footsteps but couldn't pinpoint the exact location of the person.


For a moment, guilt, nervousness, confusion washed over their chests, then spread to their limbs; their hands and feet felt as if they were filled with lead, too heavy to move even an inch.


In just a few seconds, their backs were covered in a cold sweat.


Latterly, they heard a slight noise behind them.


Before they could turn around, they felt the cold tip of a blade against their necks, touching nothing but coldness, yet they knew precisely what was rested on their throats.


Four simple words, spoken lightly, easily ending their assessment.


091, are you an undercover?_1