Zhao Meilin grinned mischievously, though the glint in her eyes betrayed the amusement that was painted across her face. Her smirk slowly unraveled into a soft, unbothered chuckle, her whole hand pressed against her lips.
Fang Yuheng, clearly irked by the show of humor, narrowed her eyes, her fury simmering beneath a sharp glare. "Something seems to amuse you, I see," she spoke, her voice cold and commanding. "May I know what that is?"
Zhao Meilin nodded slightly, her grin never faltering. "Oh, nothing amuses me at all, hag," she replied with venom in her voice, her gaze locking defiantly with Fang Yuheng's. "This is simply an act of nervousness... being in the presence of the almighty tigress, Fang Yuheng herself. And... being granted the honor of killing her."
Fang Yuheng laughed out loud as she heard Meilin's choice of words. The young woman's expression transformed to that of anger and spitefulness as she heard Fang Yuheng's loud and deafening laughter.
Meilin's fist tightened, her anger palpable—and with blinding speed, she charged full force at Fang Yuheng leaping into the air, attempting to land a powerful kick to Fang Yuheng's face.
But she was unsuccessful in executing her attack. Fang Yuheng had blocked the attack with her arm, raising her fist in the air she poised to strike Meilin but she had successfully dodged the attack moving back—not failing to leave a slight, steaming bruise.
"You're fast," said Fang Yuheng, snapping the metal hairpin in her hand into two places, before she jumped over the counter—her feet landing on the wooden floor with immense force, she stood menacingly over Zhao Meilin, an intense look in her eyes. "Now it's time to get serious"
Zhao Meilin smirked as she heard this, amused by the old woman's confidence.
Suddenly, the whole bookstore was filled with the sound of footsteps and before Fang Yuheng knew it—a multitude of men all dressed in suits, welding various weapons in their hands.
Fang Yuheng stood firm, unbothered by the amount, her gaze darting towards each and everyone as if she counted them, "I see you brought reinforcements, now you're making it look like an ambush rather than an asassination"
"Well of course, but whatever you think on this is completely wrong, this is neither an ambush or asassination" Meilin muttered, fixing the glasses resting on the bridge of her nose, "This is clearly a jungle, you are the wounded lion. And we here are the pack of wolves ready to mince you with our claws"
Fang Yuheng chuckled, standing in a defensive manner, "Can't say I love such use of words, but I can't lie"
Melilin stretched a pointing finger at Fang Yuheng, her stern expression returning back but with a mix of confidence, "Number one, attack," she ordered, and one of the suited men obeyed this command—charging forward with a sword in his hand.
Fang Yuheng stood still through this whole ordeal, and as soon as the man got closer, Fang Yuheng proceeded to grab the blade along its flat sides with a clap before snapping it into pieces. Meilin watched in utter disbelief, seeing that she had chosen war with an unstable woman, and to add to the insanity—Fang Yuheng raised her fist in the air, striking the man across the head too hard it bounced him on the wooden floors, the force of this attack rendering him unconscious.
Fang Yuheng looked up at the shocked expressions on Meilin and the group of men who stood to oppose her, "Who's next?," she asked, indirectly mocking them for their strength.
Rage-filled, Meilin commanded the entire group of men as they charged forward with an indomitable will but Fang Yuheng disposed of them one by one, striking them down with ease, yet with a force that struck fear in the next victim. As Meilin watched the battle unfold, she had lost all the will in her, slowly walking backwards—the poison she had planned using on her was of no use and she was only able to master one dosage.
'This isn't right,' Meilin muttered to herself through the aid of her thoughts, 'The organisation lied, they mentioned that I would be able to attack her when she was less of a fighter'
'But she's even more insane than she was during her younger days'
No, she couldn't continue—she had to run, no matter what. Turning towards the door, planning an escape, she was met face first with Fang Yuheng's fist as she had miraculously or rather impossibly made her way in front of her.
Meilin was thrown back to the ground where the multitude of men laid, some squirmed in pain while some stayed motionless, not moving an inch from where they laid. Meilin's head began to spin, a stream of blood trickling down her nostrils as the punch she had received was far too powerful, but she could still move.
Fang Yuheng decided not to end things there as she grabbed Zhao Meilin by her clothing, raising her up on her feet with just one hand. Meilin kicked and thrashed like a cockroach laid on its armoured back, she tried clenching the muscles on her thighs as she tried landing powerful kicks at Fang Yuheng but kicking at the air didn't count as an achievement.
Fang Yuheng raised her fist, ready to land a finishing blow
"Wait-"
Meilin interrupted, screaming out despite her broken nose muffling her speech, she then grinned menacingly, "I wouldn't be doing that if I were you," she warned.
Fang Yuheng tilted her head in confusion, "And since when did you start deciding things around here?," she questioned the young lady.
"It's not decided when it is going to happen, you see," Meilin replied, "Don't you find it strange that your son hasn't returned yet?"
Fang Yuheng's eyes widened with shock as she heard this, and she immediately knew something was wrong and Zhao Meilin was behind it all. "What did you do to my son, you stupid bitch?," she questioned, drawing Meilin closer as the two stared into each other's eyes.
Meilin remained smiling, "Oh, I didn't do anything at all," she replied confidently, but her tone gave off the impression that she had bad intentions, "He and some of my men are just playing a little game of torture"
Fang Yuheng growled with rage as she heard this, and immediately she knew what she was to do. The arm which she used to raise Meilin from the floor weakened and she slowly began to put the young woman down to the ground.
"There we go. Nice and easy," Meilin cooed, smugly. "We can all walk away from this like it never happened."
Just as Zhao Meilin thought she had won the battle between she and the tigress, Fang Yuheng—she was totally on the losing side and she didn't seem to know that till the old lady, mustering all the strength in her core, flung the young woman across the bookshop with tremendous force that caused her to crash into a series of shelves, scattering the books everywhere.
Fang Yuheng rolled her shoulder as she spoke, "You young folks don't seem to understand the ways of us, the elderly," she said, cracking the bones on her knuckles, "Did you really think that my dear Jun would fall under the hands of these weak asses you call, men?"
Just a few meters away from the shop, Fang Jun stood amongst a pile of men in suits all injured and passed out as the young man stretched, a cold expression on his face, "I did not like the games you all tried playing on me, and I advice you don't teach it to anybody else," Jun warned hopefully.
Zhao Meilin's eyes widened in utter shock as she realised that she was messing with not only one, but two of Fang Yuheng simultaneously and she had already struck a nerve in their systems. Fang Yuheng slowly walked towards the young lady who laid in a pile of broken bookshelves, causing her to squirm loudly, not being able to speak as the force of the throw rendered her temporarily mute, her nose and mouth swollen from the attack and her back completely broken.
Fang Yuheng crouched, staring down at the young woman with a menacing glare, "Got any other thing to say from that mouth of yours?," she threatened, intimidating the young woman.
Meilin's bloodied lips trembled. She looked into those deadly purple eyes—and saw not a woman, but a beast. A hungry tigress, ancient and divine ready to pounce at it's prey.
Tears streamed down her eyelids, washing away a little blood.
"I... I'm s-sorry," she struggled with a whisper.
And in that instant, something softened Fang Yuheng's heart. In that childlike fear, she saw memories from her younger days as a mother—her son, her home, her husband's calm voice.
Then came the sirens.
Red and blue lights bled through the glass windows.
Fang Yuheng exhaled, the decision she was about to make being heavy but firm.
"You owe me for this, ya little brat," she muttered, lifting Meilin up like a crying baby.