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

To the right, not far ahead, a bush suddenly stirred, and then a figure walked out.


Mo Shangjun, carrying her gun, stepped out slowly, her gaze coldly fixed on this direction, sweeping her vision over and thoroughly sizing him up, the one exposed.


Under the night sky, the moonlight poured down like water, filtering through the dense, lush leaves, scattering specks of light.


With naked eyes, Mo Shangjun could see people clearly.


Nearly one meter ninety in height, not too burly, dressed in a training uniform, with a Type 95 sniper rifle slung over his shoulder, his face daubed with military camouflage paint, blending into the shadows, his features indiscernible.


His stance was casual, not on alert, suggesting he was not an enemy.


Feeling awkward under her piercing and icy stare, Peng Yuqiu coughed.


About five meters away from him, Mo Shangjun stopped in her tracks, her gaze growing colder as she asked tersely, "Are you one of Ya Tianxing's men?"


114, Why are you so sarcastic?!_2