Standing in front of her, with his hands tucked in his front pockets, was a man whose face and aura would put the Gods to shame. He was just that enticingly handsome.

"Yang Feng…?" She whispered, blinking in confusion while the dark shadow that covered her consciousness gradually disappeared. As the demon that had taken full control of her faded into the background, the bloodlust in her eyes slowly receded as well.

She rapidly blinked. It was then she finally regained her composure. Her eyes scanned the hundreds of men that swarmed into the room, their guns pointed straight at her.

She looked around and saw the lifeless bodies on the floor. The pungent smell caused her nose to crinkle in disgust. She swallowed, knowing exactly who caused this mess.

Yang Feng was at loss for words. He had a hard time connecting this bloodthirsty woman to the frail one who had been securely tucked in his arms earlier in the day.

When he was just a few distance away, he had heard multiple gunshots being fired. He feared he had arrived too late. And when the gunshots slowed down, his sense of urgency further heightened.

He had expected to see her naked body on the floor, covered in blood. He had expected to see her lifeless eyes, blue lips, and disfigured body covered in bullet wounds.

Relief flooded his heart when he fully realized that she was alive and not the one covered in bullet holes. The pressure gripping his heart had loosened now that he saw she was safe.

He looked at the dead bodies on the floor and noticed some men only had a bullet wound on their forehead. It was a one-shot kill. He stared at the assault rifle in her hand, trailing it to her finger that was positioned over the trigger. She was the one firing the gun.

Zhao Lifei saw his heavy gaze centered on the rifle in her hand. He had just seen what she had always wanted to hide. At the fear of being judged by him, she instantaneously dropped the gun, the loud clack echoing through the quiet warehouse.

He had shown her how vicious he is with his enemies and she responded by not showing fear towards him. But he looked as if he couldn't do the same. With his brooding stare, she was not sure if he could accept the monster inside her and how messed up she is.

He would not accept her, the way she did for him. Her heart ached at the idea, her face crumbling with each passing second. She felt a chill run through the warehouse and hugged her stomach as anxiety kicked in. She took a few steps backward to create distance between them.

"I-I-I-" She didn't know where to begin and it didn't take long for her to nearly stumble over her own feet.

Her bloodthirst is now long gone, and all she could feel was prickling pain at the thought of his rejection. The dangerous woman from before was nowhere in sight and what replaced her was a hesitant and frail-looking doll that looked as if she might break any minute.

Yang Feng saw her attempt to create further distance between them. His eyes took in her messy appearance. She had a wounded forehead, one of her cheeks were swollen, and blood was trickling from her neck. He can't even tell where else she was bleeding from anymore.

His eyes darkened at the realization, anger flashed across his face. Who did it? Who was foolish enough to harm his woman?

When she saw his displeased expression as he looked at her, she felt her world crumble into fine dust. Tears burned at the back of her eyes, threatening to fall as a lump formed in her throat.

She prepared her heart for the hurtful things she was sure he was about to say. Her heart was hammering so fast against her chest, she thought it would burst.

She wasn't scared of his burning anger or the insanity hidden within his heart. She wasn't scared of his fury that burnt hot and fast, turning everything in its path into ashes. She was scared of what came after the anger.

She was terrified of the ice-cold demeanor he used on strangers, and that he could give her the same treatment. To be rejected by him would be worse than experiencing the harshest frostbite on the coldest day of winter.

She sniffled and braced herself for the pain that would soon come. She felt dizzy and her feet wobbled. It was unknown whether she was shaking from fear or the loss of blood. Her face looked like a wounded kitten who was forced to lick her own wounds.

"Say something…" She whispered though she knew he couldn't hear her. When he still didn't move or change his expression, what little self-esteem she had left disappeared, like insignificant dust blown away by a single breath of air.

She attempted to blink away her tears, refusing to let it trickle in front of so many people. Hugging her stomach tighter, she cast her eyes downwards so that he's no longer in her view. The longer she looked at him, the more her heart felt like it was being torn into pieces.

Yang Yulong saw his brother's frozen expression while he just stared at the woman before him. He can't believe how low his older brother's EQ is. He had mobilized a lot of their resources just to find his woman and when he finally does, he just stands there instead of running towards her and sweeping her into his arms. Did he really send so many people here just to have a staring competition?! Has he always been this dense?!

He frowned, turning to look at the poor woman hurting because of his brother's low EQ. He saw her become teary-eyed when she saw his brother's murderous aura. If his idiotic brother didn't do something, she might really cry!

This woman is still Zhao Moyao's granddaughter! What if she cried to her grandfather? Zhao Moyao might send the entire army after Yang Feng!

Yang Yulong gathered his courage and prayed to be saved from the consequences. Roughly, he nudged his older brother and hissed, "Don't just stand there like a fool! Go get your woman! Don't you see she's injured?"

Yang Feng didn't even budge despite the strong push at his shoulders. But that tiny push was all he needed to start walking towards her. He was too caught up with ideas of torture for those who inflicted pain upon her to realize his silence was breaking her.

His footsteps were slow at first, steadily increasing until he found himself speed walking towards her.

"Lifei." He breathed out, taking off his large suit jacket, and swung it in the air like a magnificent cape. It fluttered in the wind as he placed it upon her shoulders. Immediately after, he pulled her into his arms in a tight hug that nearly crushed her bones.

"You're safe. I'm here." His first sentence was from the relief of finding her alive. The next was an apology of arriving too late and putting her in this state. He didn't know what else to say, for what could be said at this moment?

Flashes of her expertly playing with a dagger at the banquet and pulling out a gun in her bedroom danced across his mind. He should've known better. Even with the recollection, he was still bewildered to see her in action. The lifeless bodies on the floor. Her finger on the trigger. Her bloodthirsty eyes. Just who was his woman?

Zhao Lifei was surprised by his hug and could barely register the warm gesture in her mind. Her arms were still wrapped around her stomach. The familiar feeling of being enveloped in his arms had calmed her heart. Her eyes tiredly fluttered close. Slowly, softly, she became unconscious in his arms.

Faint screaming could be heard in the background, the voice she always wanted to hear kept telling her to stay awake. But the sound was getting farther and farther until her entire world of black became quiet.

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