Sweet Wife in My Arms

Lu Yi didn't have a sweet tooth himself, but he made sure to carry some chocolate at all times since Yan Huan liked them. She used to snack on them mid-set when she did not have enough time for a proper meal. The chocolate often melted in his pockets, as did his heart when he saw his little woman.

Lu Yi rubbed her head. "Has your hair gotten shorter again?"

"Yep," said Yan Huan, looking up and smiling at him. "It'll grow back."

He knew that. However, he also knew that Yan Huan normally took good care of her hair, and there must have been some unspoken reason behind her cutting them. However, he wasn't going to probe. She would explain it herself when the time comes.

He respected her privacy and her secrets.

"Get up," taunted Miao Xinyuan, kicking Yan Huan in the waist hard. She looked below at the sprawling Yan Huan from above, her red lips curved in a mocking smile.

She slammed Yan Huan to the ground. After Yan Huan got up, she beat her until she dropped. Then again.

Yan Huan barely had any chance of fighting back. She was in a sorry state, but she never uttered a single cry or complained to Lu Yi.

This was why Miao Xinyuan dared to hit her. She took the beatings without a word despite being covered in wounds. The beatings, the scoldings, she endured them all. They were nothing compared to the unbearable life she suffered in her previous life.

A heavy snowfall arrived a few days before the New Year, cladding the ground in a silvery-white coat.

Yan Huan, clad in a thin set of clothing, stood opposite Miao Xinyuan. She was a tad shorter but no less intimidating.

The door flung open. The shadow of a person nearly blocked off all the light from outside, behind him a picture of snow and storm.

Everyone shuddered. Perhaps it was the wind and snow, or perhaps it was because of the person.

Creeeek, the door shut.

Bam! Miao Xinyuan sunk a kick into Yan Huan's body. Strengthless, Yan Huan struggled to defend herself, then fell to the ground on one knee. Her shoulders hurt like they were about to break.

Miao Xinyuan turned around and glanced at the man at the door. His face was icier than the snow and storm combined.

"Stand up!" he said flatly.

He looked at Yan Huan, his lips pursed into a line.

Yan Huan got up. Miao Xinyuan's eyes were still glued on Lu Yi.

"Hey…" she shouted.

Miao Xinyuan turned around and regarded her with contempt.

"Let's continue," said Yan Huan, rotating her wrists.

Miao Xinyuan sneered. "When I'm done with you, not even your mother can recognize you."

"My mother?" Yan Huan let out a sudden laugh, a cold snow storm brewing in her eyes.

"My mother will always recognize me, regardless of how I look like. Simply because she is my mother. There's nothing I hate more hearing the mention of my mother from someone else. Especially from the likes of you."

Miao Xinyuan threw a punch before she could finish her sentence. She was aiming right for her face. She wanted to smash that pretty face of hers into an ugly pulp.

However, Yan Huan dodged it this time using a method few could do. She dodged it by bending nearly 90 degrees backward and touching the ground with her hands, before bouncing back like a spring and delivering a quick kick to Miao Xinyuan's armpit. There was a pressure point there that causes excruciating pain when hit. This was something well-known among martial artists.

Miao Xinyuan screamed, an arm trembling from the numbness.

Yan Huan turned and kicked again, catching her on the shoulders this time. Miao Xinyuan took a step back. Just as she managed a stance, Yan Huan's foot was coming at her again. Yan Huan had a light and soft frame, but her kicks were powerful. She used her body as a spring, utilizing the technique of "hitting with borrowed strength". Every hit connected. Miao Xinyuan felt it.

It also came to Miao Xinyuan's realization that Yan Huan could dodge all of her moves, no matter what she tried to pull.

"Do you yield?" Yan Huan kicked again, then closed in and locked Miao Xinyuan's elbow before executing an over the shoulder throw on her. Just like how she used to throw her.

"Do you yield?" she asked again.

Miao Xinyuan stared at her with furious round eyes and said nothing.

"Do you yield?" Yan Huan threw her again. Her body was lithe, Miao Xinyuan could hardly fight back against her. Most importantly, Yan Huan had read all her moves.

Bam! Miao Xinyuan has slammed to the ground again, her face in a grimace. Yan Huan put a foot on her shoulder. To the prideful Miao Xinyuan, this humiliation was a first for her.

"Why?" hissed Miao Xinyuan, as though she wanted to rip Yan Huan apart.

"Why?" Yan Huan bent down, her foot still on Miao Xinyuan's shoulders. "Did you think that no one can beat you because you are an instructor? Didn't you always tell me that I couldn't defeat you? Did it saying those things boost your ego?"

"Here you are, sprawling like a dog. Did you take me as a fool? I have been memorizing your moves for the past week. Tell me, what are you capable of apart from these stale moves?"

She released her feet and dusted her clothes. She then extended a helping hand towards Miao Xinyuan. Her being humble in victory and graceful in defeat was no doubt a slap on the face to Miao Xinyuan.

Oh, Yan Huan realized, she doesn't want my helping hand. Suit yourself then.

She turned around and walked back towards her platoon. However, Miao Xinyuan suddenly sprung up, the hatred in her eyes getting to her head. She aimed at Yan Huan's head. Crush it. Smash it. Spill its content.