The director didn’t take it too seriously, just finally let out a sigh of relief and said, "Great, things are moving along smoothly on your end. Go ahead and do a rough review yourself, then hurry back to edit. There’s too much work piling up here—we’re running out of time."
The unexpected popularity sparked by the teaser trailer was something he hadn’t anticipated, nor had he ever seen anything like it in his previous works. Naturally, he wanted to capitalize on this momentum and release the rest of the content as soon as possible.
Ideally, he’d prefer daily updates.
The director cursed the fact that he wasn’t an octopus with ten arms to edit faster. The cameraman was already helping as much as he could.
After all, there shouldn’t be anything in Gu Zhaoping’s footage that needed censoring. Her usual antics were outrageous enough—even if something wild was caught on camera, no one would bat an eye.
Besides, he had taken advantage of Gu Zhaoping’s inexperience. Unlike other big-name stars who negotiated contract details beforehand—demanding their teams review the final edit to avoid any negative publicity—Gu Zhaoping had been a last-minute addition. She hadn’t brought it up, and neither had he.
Whatever ended up being filmed and aired? Well, that was on them.
Though the director still felt a twinge of guilt remembering the incident with Ruan Nian, the flood of attention was right in front of him. He didn’t dwell on it.
The cameraman quickly replied, "Got it, got it! Today’s footage is gold, Director, don’t worry. I’ll send it straight to editing as soon as I get back!"
As a cameraman, what was his greatest fear?
That his best shots would end up on the cutting room floor, never seeing the light of day.
And his greatest joy?
Being given free rein to pick the footage himself—choosing what made the final cut!
The cameraman was ecstatic!
Clutching the tiny, freshly filled memory card in his hand, it felt like he was holding the key to his future success.
The footage he’d just captured was like something out of an action blockbuster. How could he have guessed that Gu Zhaoping would move with such fierce, heroic grace? Even award-winning wuxia films from Berlin paled in comparison! He was half-tempted to switch careers and start shooting action movies.
Carefully tucking the memory card away and slotting in a new one, the cameraman immediately sprinted after Gu Zhaoping without missing a beat.
Wait for me, Gu-jie!
Without even realizing it, his internal address for her had already shifted.
Jie!
Gu-jie was the queen!
Tan Li, his face bruised and swollen, slumped into a chair in the office and stared at the contract on the desk. He glanced up at Gu Zhaoping, then turned to see the seven coaches still standing like sentinels behind him, arms crossed, blocking the door as if worried he’d bolt.
When you’re at someone’s mercy, you have no choice but to yield. Swallowing his pride, Tan Li turned back and flipped through the contract.
They’d even prepared the paperwork in advance—Miss Gu’s team really was something else.
Tan Li grimaced. The price was his own demand, and he’d been the one to stir up trouble. Now, faced with this contract, what could he do but sign it?
He skimmed a few pages, then suddenly stopped. "What’s this? ‘For the next 100 years, Tan Li is prohibited from approaching the dojo within a 10-meter radius. Violation constitutes breach of contract’?"
Tan Li was floored. What kind of clause was this? He’d never heard of anything like it!
He wasn’t even allowed near the dojo? What, were they afraid he’d burn the place down? Hey, this was his family’s ancestral property! Was he not even allowed to come back and reminisce about his childhood?
But Gu Zhaoping didn’t say a word. She simply sat across from him, arms folded, watching him calmly. Her eyes said it all: No.
Fine. Tan Li’s face went ashen as he picked up the pen and signed.
The next time he’d step foot here would be when they buried him a hundred years from now.
Literally.
"The transfer is scheduled. Be there on time," Gu Zhaoping said flatly, then raised her hand. "Pleasure doing business."
Tan Li blinked, taken aback by her professionalism. After the beating he’d taken, she could still say "pleasure doing business"? Though this was hardly a partnership.
Gu Zhaoping’s demeanor was so effortlessly commanding that Tan Li found himself instinctively making obsequious gestures before he even realized it.
He reached out to shake her hand, but Gu Zhaoping smoothly withdrew hers, as if completing a mere formality. She gathered the contract and handed it to her assistant, Little Zhao, who promptly filed it away.
After so many shocks from the young mistress, Little Zhao had grown numb. No matter what Gu Zhaoping did next, she was ready to hand over knives or light fires—playing the role of the most efficient NPC.
Tan Li: "..."
He forced an awkward laugh, letting his raised hand drift up to rub his buzz cut instead.
Leaving the office, Tan Li couldn’t help but sigh. He’d just sold off his family’s legacy.
Sure, he’d gotten the price he wanted, and the payment was settled in full, but the whole thing left him humiliated and resentful. He’d only meant to use this as leverage against Curator Gao and his son.
Who could’ve predicted it would backfire so spectacularly?
Ah, whatever. Tan Li trudged away, defeated.
Once that 6 million hit his account, he could expand his current space, rent a bigger venue, and open a new jujitsu school.
While the Gaos had built up this dojo’s reputation, he hadn’t been idle—he’d studied their marketing tactics.
He’d copy their playbook and steal their business!
The thought made him resent the Gaos even more.
If they’d had the skills to run a dojo this well back when it was still Tan's Dojo, why hadn’t they done it then?
If they’d stepped up back then, his place wouldn’t have gone under. He could’ve freeloaded off their ideas and kept both the business and the money.
Tan Li’s face darkened as he limped down the stairs. But compared to losing the dojo, there was something even more humiliating—something he’d never speak of again.
He’d been thoroughly beaten—by a woman barely over a hundred pounds, with only a few years of training.
If his fellow disciples from back in the day found out about this, they’d probably laugh at him endlessly… Oh wait, his brothers were already standing right there watching him, practically multiplying like shadow clones.
Tan Li
Left in a gloomy, resentful fury, slamming the door hard behind him.
Meanwhile, inside the dojo, the stunned crowd finally snapped out of their daze.
They watched as Miss Gu Zhaoping, with terrifying efficiency, had already signed the contract and driven Tan Li out—now, the dojo belonged entirely to her.
It still felt surreal, like a dream they couldn’t quite believe.
This mess had dragged on for months, with Tan Li clinging like an unshakable leech. Yet Miss Gu had resolved it all in a single morning, cleanly and decisively.
Dropping 6 million yuan was as casual to her as picking up something she fancied while window-shopping.
Coach Gao shook his head vigorously, forcing himself to accept that this was really happening.
He looked at Gu Zhaoping as if she were his savior, practically radiating holy light.
“G-Gu… Boss!” he blurted, instantly switching titles. The word felt right—like it was meant to be.
It had always felt off calling her “client.”
But “Boss”?
Now that was destiny.
Compared to the other baffled coaches and Curator Gao, Coach Gao seemed remarkably composed—after all, he wasn’t the least bit surprised when Gu Zhaoping pinned Tan Li down and beat him senseless.
He hurried over with a cup of tea, grinning ear to ear. “So… that’s it? Boss, any further instructions?”
Gu Zhaoping did have one request. “Do you know any reliable female bodyguards? Preferably ones who drive well and don’t talk much.”
Coach Gao paused, then immediately racked his brain for the perfect candidate.
“Actually, yes! I know someone. If you need her, she can come for an interview right away.”
Gu Zhaoping nodded. “Have her contact me at your usual training spot.”
Coach Gao eagerly agreed.
Gu Zhaoping had already changed his family’s fate—now it seemed she was about to change someone else’s too.
The thought made him nervous.
But Gu Zhaoping just stood up. “That’s all for now. I have other matters to attend to.”
Coach Gao scrambled to escort her out, while the cameraman trailed closely, determined not to miss a single moment.
Only then did the rest of the dojo finally snap out of their stupor.
If they didn’t react now, they’d miss their chance entirely.
“Boss!”
“Take care, Boss!”
“We’re at your service anytime!”
Gu Zhaoping nodded, then paused mid-step. “Oh, and prepare yourselves—you’ll be heading to court soon.”
Huh?
Coach Gao’s smile froze. Court?
At the car, Little Zhao opened the door for her. Gu Zhaoping turned back to them.
“Breach of contract, interference with business operations, property damage, extortion—every cent he took will go straight to fines. If he’s unlucky, he might even get a few years behind bars.”
She sighed, gazing ahead. “I did say I have a legal background. Why does no one ever believe me?”
The car drove off, leaving the entire dojo speechless.
The Boss… was suing Tan Li?
She was actually taking that bastard to court?!
This wasn’t just good news—it was cause for celebration!
In his euphoria, Curator Gao suddenly whirled on his son. “You knew! You knew Miss Gu was a jujitsu expert, didn’t you?”
Coach Gao smirked, radiating smugness.
He’d told them to trust him.
Did they really think he’d stop them for no reason?
Waving a hand, he said, “Dad, hold on. I’ve got a call to make—Boss’s orders.”
At the mention of Mao Xinci, Curator Gao’s excitement dimmed, replaced by a mix of sympathy and respect. “Alright, go ahead. We’ll handle things here.”
Stepping into a quiet corner, Coach Gao dialed Mao Xinci.
The line rang for a while before she picked up, but he waited patiently.
“Xiao Gao? What brings this call?” Her voice was warm, steady, and low—the kind that carried quiet strength.
Before he could answer, a child’s wail cut through. Mao Xinci’s voice softened as she soothed the baby.
“Sorry, Xiao Gao. Things are hectic here—I haven’t even visited lately. Did I miss your dad’s birthday? I’ll make it up to you all soon.”
“No, no, Sister Xinci, that’s not why I’m calling.” He rushed to explain.
Mao Xinci paused, the baby now quiet in her arms, blinking up at her.
“What is it, then?”
“Sister, there’s this boss—a female boss. She’s looking for a bodyguard. Someone who can drive, stay calm, keep quiet, and handle themselves. You were the first person I thought of.”
Mao Xinci went still.
After years of silence, Xiao Gao was offering her a job?
She set the baby down gently. The child seemed to sense the shift, staring up at her with wide, curious eyes.
“…A job? As a bodyguard?”
She stepped onto the balcony, the noise from inside fading slightly.
Behind her, her drunken husband’s raucous laughter and the sizzle of oil in the pan blended together. She’d been prepping dinner when the baby cried, forcing her to abandon the stove.
Now, with only a curtain separating her from the chaos, she could finally hear the voice from the distant city clearly.
"Yes, Sister Xinci, this is absolutely a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I didn’t even consider anyone else—I recommended you right away! This boss is truly an exceptional person, let me tell you. She even funded the purchase of our dojo, took it back from Tan Li, and personally helped us drive him out!"
Coach Gao spoke fervently, his voice thick with emotion, as if he were on the verge of tears. "Sis, you were once a national martial arts champion. Nowadays, it’s hard to find female bodyguards with skills as sharp as yours. You’re steady behind the wheel, your temperament is calm, and you know how to keep your mouth shut—you wouldn’t even leak a word if you were smuggling arms. Doesn’t this sound like the perfect opportunity for you?"
Listening to Coach Gao’s words, Mao Xinci froze.
She turned her head slightly, glancing back at the fluttering curtain in the inner room. Behind it, several shirtless men sat with flushed faces. Her youngest daughter sat in a walker, sniffling with a runny nose, quietly playing with a tiny bell.
"I…" Her gaze lingered on the walker. Just as she was about to refuse, she noticed the doorknob of another room twist. The door opened, and her elder daughter stepped out.
The girl, sixteen or seventeen years old, was tall and slender, her expression stiff. She addressed the men playing drinking games: "Dad, could you keep it down? I need to study."
The man paused, his face twisting with displeasure. Suddenly, as if provoked, he slammed his fist on the table, rattling the carefully arranged dishes.
"How dare you talk to your father like that? Study, study, study—can’t you study with people around? Those who are truly dedicated can read even in the middle of a marketplace. How come you can’t focus just because we’re having a drink? You’re just not putting in the effort."
The teenage girl clenched her fists tightly, and Mao Xinci’s pupils contracted.
Without another thought, she set down her phone and pushed through the curtain, raising her voice. "What’s going on here? If she’s studying, keep it down! She’s in her final year of high school!"
Seeing Mao Xinci step forward, the man’s expression faltered slightly, a hint of wariness crossing his face. He muttered under his breath, "She never studies until there’s company. Who’s she putting on a show for? If she’s so studious, why aren’t her grades better? Think you can get into Tsinghua? Your cousin made it into a first-tier university."
Her daughter’s face grew increasingly strained, and Mao Xinci finally couldn’t hold back. "She’s under enough pressure as it is. Do you really need to say more?"
The man’s expression darkened, his grip tightening around the liquor bottle. Perhaps because his friends were present, he held back from escalating.
The drinking buddies quickly intervened. "Alright, alright, it’s our fault. We didn’t know the kid was studying. We should’ve gone out somewhere else. Come on, don’t argue with your wife. Harmony at home brings prosperity."
The man seemed to relent, grumbling as he picked up his chopsticks and pointed at the dishes. "Honestly, acting like a princess just because she’s a senior. If she doesn’t get into a top-tier school, that’ll really be something to brag about…"
Mao Xinci exhaled heavily for what felt like the ten-thousandth time, yet the suffocation remained. She took her elder daughter’s cold, slender wrist and pulled her into the kitchen.
From her walker, the youngest daughter looked up at them, clutching her little bell.
The oil in the wok was sizzling violently. Mao Xinci hurriedly tossed in the meat, then picked up a freshly fried egg and handed it to her elder daughter. "Here, eat something."
When she turned back, she saw tears streaming down the girl’s face, hidden beneath her bangs.
"Mom," the girl said, her voice trembling, "can we move out?"
The oil in the wok crackled louder, spitting violently—until a droplet seared Mao Xinci’s hand.
She stood frozen for a moment before mechanically setting down the egg and fumbling to turn off the stove.
Her daughter watched her flustered movements, disappointment flickering across her face—or perhaps regret for speaking out.
Swallowing her emotions, the girl lowered her head. "I’ll skip dinner. I need to study. There’s a monthly exam tomorrow."
Mao Xinci hummed in acknowledgment, busying herself with tidying the messy kitchen. After a while, she suddenly remembered the call she’d abandoned and rushed back to the balcony, grabbing her phone.
On the other end, Coach Gao, assuming the signal had dropped, had been calling out, "Hello? Hello?"
Mao Xinci clutched the phone with both hands, about to speak, when she noticed her youngest daughter toddling over in her walker. The little girl bent down, picked up the egg Mao Xinci had dropped earlier, and—unaware it was dirty—cheerfully popped it into her mouth, eating with delight.
Mao Xinci’s throat tightened.
"I…"
Coach Gao, finally hearing her voice again, sighed in relief. Knowing her family situation, he didn’t press further. "Well, Sister Xinci, think it over. If you’re not interested, I’ll just turn the boss down. No big deal, don’t worry about—"
"I’ll come tomorrow." The response caught him off guard.
Mao Xinci’s voice was calm, almost as if she were reminding—or warning—herself. She lifted a hand to her face, brushing away moisture with a light touch. Her eyes were resolute. No one noticed her tears, just as no one had seen her daughter eating off the floor.
"I’ll come tomorrow. The earliest train. I’ll be there."
Coach Gao was stunned.
—
The bodyguard position Coach Gao had mentioned was in a small city not far from Haishi. To get there, Mao Xinci would first take a high-speed train to the provincial capital, then transfer to Haishi. With connections, the trip would take at least eight hours.
When Gu Zhaoping heard she could arrive the next day, she was slightly surprised.
But this was an issue she’d been considering for a while. Gu Zhaoping technically already had bodyguards, but she found them unsatisfactory.
Truthfully, Gu Zhaoping’s own combat skills weren’t lacking. She prioritized self-improvement in this area because, in moments of real danger, the only person who could truly protect her was herself.
But a bodyguard’s role wasn’t just about protection. They also maintained order around her, deterring threats before she had to step in.
She needed to find a reliable and versatile person to stay by her side, someone who could replace the role of her former female bodyguard from the other world.
However, she also knew that a bodyguard like that was rare and hard to come by. Her previous bodyguard was practically the most perfect one in the world—even someone as demanding as Gu Zhaoping couldn’t find a single flaw in her.
The only unusual thing was that the bodyguard wasn’t an ordinary person. She came from a special department and had a unique background. Taking the job with Gu Zhaoping was merely a cover to complete a mission.
After finishing the mission, she left. Later, in Gu Zhaoping’s world, she saw that same bodyguard become a talent agent, take down a drug lord, rescue an entire ship of people in an explosion, and eventually become a globally renowned figure.
Gu Zhaoping was proud of her, but she also regretted that she could never have someone like that by her side again.
She didn’t hold much hope, but she still wished Coach Gao could introduce her to someone at least somewhat reliable.
“Is she here?”
Gu Zhaoping answered the phone and stepped out of the car.
The driver in the front seat glanced at her through the rearview mirror, tilting his head slightly as if hesitating to speak.
He had a feeling the young mistress was looking for a new female bodyguard. Rumor had it she wanted someone who could drive—did that mean he’d be easily replaced?
The driver grew anxious, but no matter how much he thought about it, he couldn’t figure out a solution. He could only hope the woman from the countryside wouldn’t be too capable, that she wouldn’t catch the young mistress’s eye.
As the driver went to park the car, he spotted a woman in her thirties or forties standing at the entrance.
She wasn’t tall, her hair tied back simply, her build sturdy, with strong, solid hands. She carried nothing with her, arriving straightforward and unassuming.
The driver was stunned. As someone who frequently accompanied Gu Zhaoping on trips, he had trained in martial arts and often doubled as a bodyguard when needed.
Looking at this middle-aged woman—who even seemed to have some post-pregnancy weight around her waist—he couldn’t believe his eyes.
Was this his competition?
No way. Was this a joke? Who was this insulting?
Mao Xinci had washed her hair for the occasion, keeping it neat and tidy. She wore simple, loose-fitting clothes suitable for movement.
At a glance, she looked no different from the stay-at-home moms or mothers of two you’d run into at the local market.
The driver gripped the steering wheel, his expression growing increasingly strange.
Was this really someone here to apply as a bodyguard?
Was she even remotely qualified?
“You’re here.”
Gu Zhaoping glanced up at the woman Sister Zhang, the housekeeper, had brought in. Her appearance was unassuming, approachable—broad shoulders, an average build. As soon as she entered, she clasped her hands together and greeted Gu Zhaoping:
“Hello, Boss Gu. I’m Mao Xinci.”
Gu Zhaoping nodded. She didn’t need lengthy introductions or flashy titles. “I need to see what you’re capable of.”
Mao Xinci had just opened her mouth, about to nervously recite her qualifications, when she suddenly closed it again. Looking at this commanding boss, she inexplicably felt at ease.
She nodded briskly. “Alright.”
A short while later, the driver, having just parked the car, was abruptly summoned into the mansion.
Dazed, he stared at the woman standing across from him, hardly able to believe the young mistress’s test was for him to fight her.
Wasn’t this a bit much? He was supposed to hit a woman?
But with his job on the line, he couldn’t afford to hesitate. Assuming a ready stance, he said, “Fine. Don’t expect me to hold back. Come at me!”
He was, after all, a trained martial artist—a champion in his city’s competitions.
This felt almost unfair. He couldn’t imagine what this middle-aged woman, introduced by an acquaintance, was thinking.
The woman across from him nodded, then walked to the side, grabbing the hem of her shirt and pulling it up over her head.
The driver’s eyes nearly bulged out of his skull.
Not because she’d suddenly stripped, but because underneath, she was wearing a tight athletic tank top.
Without the loose T-shirt concealing her, her thick chest, broad shoulders, and the already-defined muscles of her arms were on full display.
The driver almost swore out loud.
What the hell was that? Those weren’t just abs—that was a six-pack!
Wait, wasn’t she supposed to be a mother of two? Some middle-aged woman from a small rural town? A stay-at-home mom?!
Who the hell described her like that?!
Mao Xinci clenched her fists, shifting into a stance as she stepped back with her right leg. The movement made the muscles in her thighs visibly bulge.
Her fingers flexed slightly, as if adjusting her aim.
“I’ll take the first move.”
This punch—she threw it for her two daughters.
