Lin Wei’s Instructions

The shot rang out, but the bullet missed its intended target. Instead of striking the humanoid figure in the head, it buried itself squarely in the chest—right over the heart.

Lin Wei’s sharp eyes caught the mistake immediately. Her lips curled into a smug smile as she instinctively reached out to correct Shen Zeming’s posture.

"I told you, Young Master, your elb—"

She froze mid-sentence.

Her fingertips hovered just inches away from his broad shoulder and tense chest. For some reason, she hesitated. The moment stretched, lingering in the air like the faint smoke curling from the gun’s barrel.

Shen Zeming, however, was unfazed. His expression remained calm—dispassionate, even—as he tilted his head slightly, his gaze still locked on the distant target.

"Next weapon, Sister Lin," he said evenly.

Only then did Lin Wei notice what he had done wrong.