In the Li family's garage, Li Qiao had just approached her G-Class when she caught a vague glimpse of someone sitting in the passenger seat through the tinted window.
As she drew nearer, the window rolled down, revealing a strikingly seductive face—none other than Nan Yin. "Baby, did you miss me?"
Li Qiao gave her a glance, then stepped onto the footboard and slid into the driver's seat. While fastening her seatbelt, she asked, "You came back with Li San?"
Nan Yin flipped her thick wavy hair, leaning toward Li Qiao. "That's right. I had to come back and vent some anger for our little darling, didn't I? So, how did I do just now? Satisfied?"
At this moment, Nan Yin had changed out of her servant uniform, and her alluring figure seemed even more striking. A woman like her wouldn't become Li San's most trusted right-hand without more than just a pretty face.
Anyone who had ever seen Nan Yin walk calmly through a hail of bullets would never dare underestimate her again.
As for her relationship with Li Qiao—"been through hell together" would be an apt description.
Back in the chaotic, tangled border jungles, nineteen-year-old Li Qiao had once saved Nan Yin's life.
Now, Li Qiao pressed the window button, resting her elbow on the edge as she glanced sideways, teasing, "Was your technique getting rusty, or was Shang Lu just too fragile? Didn't seem like you did much…"
Before she could finish, Nan Yin rolled her eyes dramatically. "He was just too weak, okay? Didn't even give me a chance to shine."
As they spoke, Nan Yin noticed Li Qiao's casual outfit and asked offhandedly, "Heading out?"
Li Qiao turned to look out the window, responding coolly, "Yeah, heading to school."
Nan Yin curled her lips into a smile. Her fingers—polished in crimson—pulled open the door. Before stepping out, she turned and added, "I'm not heading back to the border for now. If anything comes up, let me know. Oh, and I left you a gift in your storage box. No need to thank me!"
With that, Nan Yin stepped out gracefully, her black bodycon dress accentuating every curve as she sauntered out of the garage.
Li Qiao reached for the center console and opened the storage box. Inside, sitting neatly, was a modified Golden Desert Eagle.
The golden body of the gun gleamed with a dazzling luster. With a .357 caliber, it was a collector's dream—coveted by firearm enthusiasts everywhere.
Li Qiao held it in her hand, her fingers tracing the cold metal surface. She weighed it, noting how vastly superior it felt compared to the civilian guns at shooting ranges.
She played with it fondly for a while before reluctantly placing it back into the compartment.
Li Qiao had a deep love for guns, and for all kinds of precision machinery—thanks in no small part to Li San's business ventures along the border. Her fondness for mechanical firearms, in particular, ran deep.
…
At 10:30 a.m., Li Qiao drove to Nanyang Medical University.
As graduation season neared, fourth-year students had already become a rare sight on campus.
She parked her Mercedes G-Class at a roadside space and walked toward the university's main gate.
Nanyang Medical University wasn't ranked among the top institutions in the country—at best, it was a second-tier key university.
Back in the day, Li Qiao's college entrance exam scores had placed her in the top 100 citywide. But her family couldn't bear to let her leave Nanyang. After a family meeting, it was unanimously decided that she would stay and attend medical school locally.
Li Guangming had said at the time, "Whether the school is prestigious or not doesn't matter. Your three brothers will handle the business of making a name for the family. Qiao Qiao, you're the only girl in the family—enjoy life a little. Studying is hard enough. Just go through the motions, it's not important."
And so, all three of her college applications had been for Nanyang Medical University. Thanks to her stellar scores, she got into the university's top program—Biocellular Engineering.
The campus of Nanyang Medical University was vast, with the academic, residential, and sports zones arranged in a triangular layout.
As she stepped into the scholarly atmosphere of the academic zone, she noticed that her photo—taken during a research award ceremony—was still posted on the university's Wall of Honor to the right.