First, then, love.

Every day on his way to and from get off work, a imposing black SUV is parked on time at the entrance of the art center, with a uniformed SWAT captain personally escorting him, giving Shu Yao a great sense of security.

More than half a month has passed, the snow has melted and fallen again, the weather is dry and cold, and the wind feels like knives cutting into your face.

The scab on Shu Yao's palm had completely scabbed over and fallen off, and tender new flesh had grown. Although it was still a bit ugly, she was already playing the cello with renewed vigor.

Everything is back on track.

The case of that pervert named Wang Qiang, which Old Li was overseeing, was sentenced quickly. Due to the egregious nature of the crime, its significant social impact, and the pressure exerted by He Zheng, he was sentenced to the maximum penalty and sent to the South Suburbs Prison.

When He Zheng heard the news, he only gave a cold laugh, ate an extra bowl of rice, and said nothing.

The two tacitly turned the page, and life continued to roll forward amidst the mundane details of everyday life.

This was on Thursday afternoon.

The heating pipes in the rehearsal hall of the art center suddenly burst, flooding half of the venue. The conductor was furious and, with a wave of his hand, ordered everyone to leave work half a day early.

Shu Yao rarely gets to steal half a day of leisure.

I drove home; it was only 2:30 PM.

The house was empty; the God of War was sunbathing on the balcony, while the princess was fast asleep on the sofa.

Shu Yao changed into slippers and walked around the 300-square-meter living room twice.

My heart feels empty and desolate, like it's overgrown with weeds.

She walked to the entrance and glanced at the casual coat that He Zheng had taken off yesterday on the coat rack.

She suddenly realized that she missed him.

I really want to.

Even if they've only been apart for a few hours in the morning, once she falls in love, she becomes more unreasonable and clingy than anyone else. This longing is like a cat's claws scratching at her heart, and she can't wait even a moment longer.

If you want to see him, you have to go right away. What excuse do you need?

Shu Yao turned her head and her gaze fell on the double-door refrigerator in the open kitchen.

She rolled up her sleeves and went into the kitchen.

She opened the refrigerator, which was filled with all sorts of ingredients that He Zheng had bought. This man may be rough, but he had never let her go hungry.

She pulled out a box of fresh pork ribs, two ears of corn, and a piece of yam.

She has never lifted a finger in the kitchen, never stepped foot in it before. The last time she entered the kitchen was to pour water. Her hands, maintained with those expensive skincare products, have never held a kitchen knife.

But today, she inexplicably felt like making him a pot of soup.

Let's just use it as a legitimate excuse to visit the set.

Take out your phone and search for "how to make pork rib and corn soup".

To copy something exactly.

Wash the pork ribs, put them in a pot of cold water and blanch them, skimming off the foam.

She remembered this step clearly. The last time He Zheng made black chicken soup for her, he was ridiculed by Lao Li in a video because he didn't blanch the chicken. She absolutely couldn't make such a basic mistake.

When I was cutting corn, the heavy cleaver was so heavy that it slipped on the cutting board and made a "thud" as the blade grazed my index fingernail and slammed into the board.

Shu Yao broke out in a cold sweat, dropped the knife, looked at her unharmed fingers, and patted her chest with lingering fear.

Put all the cleaned ingredients into the black clay pot, add water, bring to a boil over high heat, then simmer over low heat.

It simmered for a full two hours.

The entire flat was filled with the aroma of meat and the sweet scent of corn.

Turn off the heat and add salt.

She scooped up a little with a small spoon, blew on it to cool it down, and took a bite.

The taste was surprisingly good. Although it couldn't compare to the freshness of private restaurants, it was authentic and had a touch of smoky sweetness.

Find a three-layer stainless steel insulated container with excellent heat retention and fill it to the brim.

I changed my clothes and went out.

She wasn't wearing a skirt or a coat.

She chose a black bread-style down jacket, paired it with gray athletic joggers, and wore white chunky sneakers.

Her long hair was casually tied into a high ponytail, looking clean and refreshing, without any makeup, like a female college student who had just graduated.

Carrying a thermos and the Porsche car keys, I headed straight for the underground parking garage.

The city's special police detachment is located in the northern suburbs, covering a vast area.

It usually takes forty minutes to drive there, but today the road conditions were good, so it only took half an hour.

The massive black iron gate, the towering walls, and the barbed wire fences exuded an aura of authority and solemnity, radiating an unapproachable, iron-blooded power.

The Porsche was parked outside the gatehouse.

A fully armed guard with a gun walked over and knocked on the car window.

Shu Yao lowered the car window, and a blast of cold air rushed in.

"Comrade, this is a classified unit. You can't just park here," the guard said in a loud voice, his eyes warily scanning the ostentatious luxury car.

Shu Yao took off her sunglasses and smiled.

"Hello, I'm looking for He Zheng. I'm his family member."

The guard paused for a moment, glancing at the excessively beautiful woman and then at the thermos she had placed on the passenger seat.

"Captain He's family member? Please wait a moment while I verify."

The guard turned back to his post and made an internal phone call.

Two minutes later, the guard jogged out, stood at attention, and gave a standard salute.

"Hello, sister-in-law! Captain He is at Training Ground No. 1 on the back hill! You can drive in; just park in front of the office building!"

The heavy iron gate slowly opened.

Shu Yao parked her car in the visitor parking space downstairs from the office building and got out of the car carrying a thermos.

The cold wind made her shrink her neck and zip her down jacket all the way up.

The entire brigade compound was quiet, with only a few uniformed police officers occasionally passing by in the office building, their steps hurried.

The wind was strong, making the evergreen trees along the road rustle.

She followed the direction the guard pointed and walked towards the back of the mountain.

Before we even got there, we heard a deafening roar and the sounds of fighting.

The roar grew louder and louder, carrying intense male hormones and primal wildness, soaring straight into the sky, making people's blood boil, yet secretly terrified.

Shu Yao quickened her pace.

After passing through a grove of trees, the view suddenly opened up.

A huge open-air tactical training ground came into view.

There is no synthetic running track, and no green lawn.

Right in the middle was a mud pit as big as two basketball courts.

The snow had just melted in the last couple of days, and the mud pit was full of dark brown, rotten mud. It was cold and dirty, with a raw, fishy, ​​earthy smell.

Twenty or thirty special police officers were all shirtless, wearing only camouflage training pants.

In the knee-deep mud, they were divided into pairs and engaged in close-quarters combat drills without any protection.

Shu Yao stood outside the barbed wire fence at the edge of the training field.

At a glance, she spotted the man in the very center of the mud pit.

He Zheng.

*

He was also shirtless.

His entire body, from head to toe, was covered in a thick layer of black mud, making his facial features almost unrecognizable.

But she could recognize that broad, mountain-like back and that fierce, inverted triangle physique even with her eyes closed.

Muddy water dripped down his sharply defined jawline.

The muscles in his back and arms, covered in mud, remained taut and powerful, displaying terrifying explosive force with each exertion.

"Didn't you eat?! Push harder! Did you feed the dogs all the chokehold techniques I taught you?!"

He Zheng's rough voice boomed across the training ground like a furious lion.

A small assault soldier roared and charged straight at He Zheng.

Extremely fast, the fists seemed to fly.

He Zheng neither dodged nor flinched, his eyes cold and sharp as knives.

Just as the fist was about to strike his face, he suddenly turned to the side, his movement so fast that only a blur remained.

With his right hand, he grabbed the other person's wrist, and with his left hand, he grabbed the other person's neck.

He suddenly swept his foot horizontally.

Mud splashed everywhere, and the small team member was slammed into the mud, sending up a mud splash two meters high.

"Your lower body is unstable! You're too slow! You'd be dead eight hundred times over in real combat! Get up! Try again!"

He Zheng cursed mercilessly and kicked the teammate on the ground.

Beside him, Old Li wiped the mud off his face and charged forward defiantly.

"Captain! I'll take you on!"

Old Li was strong and robust, and charged forward like an enraged black bear.

He Zheng sneered and went to meet him head-on.

The two instantly became locked in a fierce struggle in the mud.

Every punch landed with a dull thud, without any fancy moves; they were all deadly techniques designed to kill in one strike.

Old Li clung tightly to He Zheng's waist, trying to flip him over.

He Zheng's legs were rooted to the ground in the mud and water, and he didn't move an inch.

He slammed his elbow down hard, smashing it into Old Li's back.

Old Li grunted and loosened his grip slightly.

It was in this slight difference that He Zheng seized upon the flaw.

With a twist of his wrist, he directly cut into Lao Li's defense.

With a sudden drop in his shoulder and a burst of power from his waist, he executed a clean and decisive over-the-shoulder throw.

"boom!"

Old Li's massive body was slammed heavily into the mud, splashing mud all over the people around him.

Without pausing, He Zheng pressed down, pressing his right knee firmly against Lao Li's back, and twisting Lao Li's arms behind his back with both hands, executing a standard armbar grappling move.

The movements, the ruthlessness—it was exactly the same as when I subdued the knife-wielding assailant that snowy night.