Chapter 93: Captain Long and Long Hua

"Miss Shen, hello," Captain Long greeted her with a smile.

Little Fatty was stunned. How did his dad address Sister Qing?

Miss Shen! And, hello?

Shen Qing lifted her gaze. "Mm, is Little Fatty your son?"

Captain Long and Little Fatty didn't look much alike—one was dark and burly, the other fair and plump.

Captain Long chuckled, "Little Fatty takes after his mother."

Shen Qing responded with a simple "Oh."

"Dad, you know Sister Qing?" Little Fatty listened to their conversation, feeling as if they’d known each other for a long time, and that Sister Qing’s status was somehow even higher.

Could it be that Sister Qing was the child of some big shot at their bureau?

"We know each other, you could say we're comrades," Captain Long rubbed his nose, remembering his previous poor attitude towards Shen Qing and feeling a bit guilty.

Little Fatty was dumbfounded, unable to find words for a moment. Just how impressive was Sister Qing?

"Little Fatty, your surname is Long?" Shen Qing glanced at the father and son, unable to resist asking.

"Uh... I knew you’d forgotten. My real name is Long Hua. Little Fatty is just a nickname."

"Oh."

"Well then, Miss Shen, we’ll head into the classroom first," Captain Long asked cautiously.

"Mm," Shen Qing nodded.

"Dad, what’s Sister Qing’s background? How did she become your comrade? Is she a special agent?" Thinking of Shen Qing’s skills, Little Fatty’s mind conjured up countless secret identities for her.

Captain Long flicked him on the forehead, "Don’t ask what you shouldn’t."

**

Gu Ting had business and had to leave first, so dinner was postponed to six in the evening.

That night, Nie Yu was home alone, leaving Nie Huan uneasy, so she declined the evening gathering.

Shen Qing nodded, "Alright, you head back first."

Nie Huan said goodbye to Xia Mang and left the classroom.

Captain Long purposely exited through the back door, "Miss Shen, we’ll be leaving as well."

"Mm." Shen Qing gave Captain Long face, even smiling a little.

Xia Mang stood up from her seat and stretched, "Don’t you ever get tired from napping all the time?"

"It’s alright," Shen Qing replied.

Both Shen Qing and Xia Mang were strikingly beautiful, attracting plenty of attention as they walked. They avoided the main road and turned into a secluded alley.

"Hey! You knew what we wanted, so you waited for us," a young man with hair dyed in every color stepped out, followed by about twenty lackeys, each holding an iron rod.

Xia Mang glanced at them and couldn’t help but laugh, "Your hair looks like a rooster’s. Do you really think you’re some national idol?"

Shen Qing glanced up, took a step back, "You go ahead."

She was content to simply watch from the sidelines.

Xia Mang’s lips twitched—so she was just a heartless enforcer?

"Pretty spicy, aren’t you? Want to—" Rooster Head didn’t finish his sentence before a stone smashed into his face.

"You must be looking for death!" shouted a man nearby, startled by the blood streaming down Rooster Head’s face, and glaring angrily at Xia Mang.

"There are minors here—watch your mouth," Xia Mang shrugged off her ordinary trench coat, revealing a tight black outfit underneath, her figure perfectly accentuated.

"Impressive," Shen Qing glanced up briefly before averting her gaze.

Xia Mang lifted her chin slightly, "Of course. Boys, today let your big sister show you what it means to ask for trouble."

The other group laughed; no matter how tough these two were, could they really handle over twenty men?

"Qing Qing, catch," Xia Mang tossed her trench coat to Shen Qing, giving the crowd a cold look, then stepped back and charged straight into their midst.

Rooster Head wiped the blood from his face, swung his iron rod, and was the first to attack. Before he could touch her, Xia Mang twisted his arm.

"Pathetic snack," Xia Mang sneered, snatched his iron rod, and kicked him between the legs, leaving him to his fate.

Shen Qing lowered her head to play with her phone, occasionally glancing at the fight—most of them were already down.

Rooster Head lay on the ground groaning as a small bag of white powder slipped from his pocket.

Shen Qing stared at it for a moment, stopped her game, and walked over.

Seeing her approach, Rooster Head trembled.

Shen Qing squatted down, picked up the transparent bag, brought it to her nose, and her eyes narrowed. She glanced at Rooster Head—so little nerve, yet he dared to mess with this?

"Where did you get this?" Shen Qing stayed half-crouched, picking up a nearby iron rod and pressing it to Rooster Head’s chest.

"What is it? Just flour, bought at the supermarket," Rooster Head’s words faltered, and suddenly a vicious glint flashed in his eyes as he looked at Shen Qing.