Gu Zhaoping's eyes showed a flicker of surprise the moment she took off her clothes and revealed her muscular physique, followed by a deeper sense of satisfaction.
The person Coach Gao had recommended was indeed impressive. This woman had always been low-key, never boasting about herself. From the moment she arrived, she simply nodded silently and got to work—nothing more.
When asked to demonstrate her skills, she stepped forward without a single unnecessary word. Gu Zhaoping admired people with such strong execution ability.
The driver’s gaze was completely fixed on the woman’s thighs.
Holy shit!
He rarely saw women with such significant muscle mass. Women naturally had higher body fat percentages, so building such pronounced muscles was exponentially more difficult.
Yet, those thighs had been hidden beneath a loose, long T-shirt earlier. Now that they were exposed, the defined muscle lines sent a jolt through him, sending a chill down his spine as a vague sense of foreboding crept in.
Still, he prided himself on his skills and hadn’t yet grasped just how dire the situation would become.
The driver focused intently, adopting a more serious stance as he locked eyes with her, his attention zeroing in on her fists.
She must be a trained fighter—he’d have to be careful.
The next instant, he sensed her closing the distance. His body tensed as he shifted into a defensive stance, sidestepping to evade her punch.
He dodged it!
Great. Judging by her build, she didn’t seem like the agile type—likely lacking in speed and reflexes compared to him. But her raw strength was probably formidable, so he’d need to watch out for that.
As he mentally strategized, another force suddenly—
Struck his back!
He froze, and that split-second hesitation gave her the perfect opening.
"Tsk—!!"
A tremendous force yanked him backward by the collar and shoulder!
His eyes widened, but before he could react, he was already being slammed face-first into the ground!
"What the hell?!"
In barely the blink of an eye, she had him pinned, her grip on his shoulder rendering him completely helpless.
Her fist didn’t even make contact—it hovered beside his head, a clear signal that this was just a demonstration.
Anyone could see that in a real fight, the driver would already be bleeding and battered.
"My respects," Mao Xinci said again, the two words uttered barely half a minute apart.
The driver was drenched in cold sweat.
How was this possible?! He was a city-level martial arts champion, even making it to the municipal team back in the day! How could she overpower him so effortlessly?
It made no sense!
Trapped beneath her, he didn’t dare move a muscle, his eyes darting around nervously as he trembled.
What kind of person was she? Some kind of hidden combat prodigy?
How could she be so swift, transitioning from offense to restraint without giving him even half a second to counter? She hadn’t left a scratch on him, yet he was utterly immobilized.
If he’d actually been an assailant trying to ambush Miss Gu, he’d have been completely neutralized by now.
The driver tried to struggle for the sake of pride, but her arms were like iron, her legs coiled with the power of a dragon.
There was no escape—he felt shackled by despair.
Gu Zhaoping was pleasantly surprised.
This was someone of exceptional skill, and what she’d shown was far from her full potential.
"Shall we continue?" Mao Xinci asked.
The driver’s face paled. He wanted to, but how?
Locked in her grip, he couldn’t even twitch. What was he supposed to do—flail like a fish out of water?
Gritting his teeth, he managed a hoarse, "N-no."
Only then did Mao Xinci release him and stand up.
The driver clutched his collar, gasping as air finally returned to his lungs.
Damn, this woman was terrifying!
Beneath her unassuming appearance and sturdy frame lay a lethality so well-concealed it was deceptive.
Mao Xinci nodded, walked over, and pulled her T-shirt back on.
Once covered by the cartoon-printed fabric, she reverted to her usual look—a middle-aged woman of average build, even slightly plump.
Gu Zhaoping studied her and asked, "How’s your driving?"
Mao Xinci answered cautiously, "I can give it a try. I’ve driven long distances without issue."
She produced her driver’s license—she’d even obtained a commercial vehicle permit.
Assuming the boss wanted a test drive, she was surprised when Gu Zhaoping simply said, "Good. Follow me."
The driver’s expression twisted.
What did this mean? Had the young mistress already taken a liking to her?
What about him? Was he about to be sidelined?
He wanted to protest, but Mao Xinci had already followed Gu Zhaoping into another room.
All he could do was watch, teeth clenched in frustration.
Behind closed doors, Gu Zhaoping sat down and asked, "What’s your situation?"
Her tone was calm, as if she’d anticipated this.
Mao Xinci was taken aback. Her situation?
Gu Zhaoping continued evenly, "Your skills are exceptional, and your demeanor is steady. If you’d been working as a bodyguard all along, you’d be in high demand—not easily available. Coach Gao only applied to be my private jiu-jitsu instructor because of family troubles. So, what about you?"
Her insight was razor-sharp.
Mao Xinci’s pupils contracted slightly—she hadn’t expected the boss to see through her so effortlessly.
She said… her abilities were top-tier, meaning she should be sought after? That she shouldn’t have been idle?
Her—in high demand?
For some reason, Mao Xinci’s nose stung, and she sniffed.
She didn’t want to play the victim or overshare her struggles. But remembering how Coach Gao had spoken of Gu Zhaoping—how kind she was, how she’d saved their dojo and driven Tan Li away—Mao Xinci had already placed an unguarded trust in her.
A mix of reverence and hope swelled in her chest.
She fell silent for a long moment, lowering her gaze before finally speaking: "Boss, my daughter is in her final year of high school, and I also have a younger one who’s just a year old, so I might..."
Gu Zhaoping nodded and asked, "Where does she go to school? Will she need to transfer to Haishi?"
Mao Xinci’s expression froze in place for a second.
She didn’t process it at first—what did he mean by "transfer to Haishi?" Then, in the next instant, it suddenly clicked.
Her face twisted in shock, her pupils trembling as she stared at Gu Zhaoping in disbelief.
Haishi’s educational resources were among the best in the country, far beyond what her small fourth-tier city could offer.
She had always known her daughter’s school environment wasn’t ideal, but in their hometown, it was already the best they could get.
Years ago, her daughter had actually been accepted into a better high school in the provincial capital, but she hadn’t gone. Boarding was required, and given their family’s circumstances, there was no way anyone could regularly commute to pick her up.
If she had gone, weekends home would’ve meant exhausting travel, and she might’ve ended up staying at school for entire semesters without returning.
In the end, her daughter had given up and chosen a local school instead.
This had always weighed heavily on Mao Xinci’s heart. She wanted better opportunities for her daughter, but reality hadn’t allowed it.
At the time, she had been pregnant, and her attention had been divided. Mao Xinci had regretted it ever since, but there was no changing it now.
Seeing how well her eldest daughter got along with the baby—always dutifully feeding her—made her heart ache.
"Boss, you..."
"I intend to hire you, so I’ll also need to address your concerns. Explain them clearly to me." Gu Zhaoping spoke as if this were entirely routine, as though solving such minor issues was nothing more than a trivial favor.
But in exchange for a reliable and suitable bodyguard, she considered it a fair trade.
Spring Day
Mao Xinci hadn’t expected to be hired so quickly!
Gu Zhaoping made decisions swiftly—once someone met her standards, she didn’t set up unnecessary hurdles.
Compatibility mattered in human relationships, and she felt the right kind of chemistry with Mao Xinci. It was worth a try.
A moment later, Mao Xinci’s eyes suddenly reddened, glistening with moisture.
"Thank you for your generosity, Boss. But she’s in her final year now—I’m worried transferring schools might disrupt her..."
Gu Zhaoping considered this before replying, "I think you shouldn’t underestimate a girl’s ability to adapt. If she were moving to a worse environment, it might cause psychological strain. But moving upward? The opportunities and perspective she’d gain far outweigh any temporary pressure."
She asked calmly, "Do you think your daughter is ambitious?"
Mao Xinci paused, recalling her daughter’s thin face, the bangs that sometimes hid her downcast eyes—eyes that occasionally burned with something like resentment.
After a long silence, Mao Xinci suddenly remembered the egg that had fallen to the floor.
She lifted her head abruptly. "Thank you, Boss. I can start anytime—24/7 availability, just one day off a month is enough."
One day to see her daughter.
"I’ll go home and tell her, then pack her things and bring her here." Mao Xinci pressed her lips together, silent for another beat before adding hastily, "Boss, thank you for seeing my worth."
Gu Zhaoping showed no reaction, merely flipping through a contract on the desk. After confirming everything was in order, she handed it over.
"It’s not about me seeing your worth. You earned the right to my help yourself."
Mao Xinci stared blankly at the contract being offered. The terms were clear and concise—responsibilities, obligations, and compensation all laid out plainly.
Starting monthly salary: 30k, with annual raises, performance bonuses, and year-end rewards. Travel assignments came with additional allowances. After taxes, her first-year earnings would exceed 400k.
Mao Xinci was stunned.
Back when she’d trained in martial arts, she hadn’t joined provincial teams or competed in major tournaments. In her era, even national-level martial arts competitions only awarded prizes in the tens of thousands.
Teaching part-time at martial arts classes had brought in modest income at best.
And in her conservative hometown, job opportunities for martial artists were scarce. She’d never imagined a bodyguard’s market rate could be this high.
Later, following her family’s expectations, she’d married and had children. Raising her eldest daughter took priority, and her work as a martial arts instructor fell by the wayside.
By the time she was pregnant with her second, the martial arts school she’d been with was struggling. Her husband had argued that the physical toll of teaching martial arts was too great—"You wouldn’t want anything to happen to the baby, would you?"
So she’d quit.
"Boss..."
Her original plan had been to find a job with room and board, save up, rent a place for her daughter, and swallow her pride to ask her aging mother to help care for the baby.
But this first offer alone covered all her expenses—and then some.
And Gu Zhaoping was willing to arrange her daughter’s transfer to Haishi...
No—Mao Xinci’s mind reeled. She clutched the contract, her simple thoughts racing for the first time, frantically calculating in her head.
If she brought her daughter to Haishi, her salary would easily cover rent and a nanny for the baby.
She wouldn’t have to fear anything. No more worries!
Mao Xinci’s face was a picture of shock. She’d never dared to hope.
She’d looked into bodyguard work before, but the demand was higher for men. Opportunities for her had been scarce.
The job came with long hours, frequent travel, and high stress. As a mother of two, she couldn’t just uproot herself at will.
The only reason she’d steeled herself this time was her daughter’s tear-streaked face.
"Any other questions?" Gu Zhaoping asked.
Mao Xinci hastily wiped her eyes. In that brief moment, she felt as though fate had already shifted.
"Just... isn’t the salary too high?"
Gu Zhaoping almost laughed. What kind of question was that? Admitting you might not deserve the pay only gave others room to negotiate.
This woman was honest—too honest. But she liked that about her.
She wasn’t the scheming type—her thoughts and ideas were straightforward. She excelled at single-track tasks, pushing them to perfection, like martial arts.
"Don’t ask questions like that. No matter who your future employer is, you have to genuinely believe you’re worth it."
Gu Zhaoping said, "According to the materials Coach Gao sent over, you’re a national champion with a heavy vehicle license and 20 years of driving experience. At 39, you’re still in your prime—capable of following me around nonstop. That’s the market rate. No need to overthink it."
"You probably just never had the chance to learn about the specifics of the market before."
Huh?
39… still in her prime?
Mao Xinci was stunned.
She had previously looked for local jobs, but martial arts coaching schedules were too rigid, and in a small town, there weren’t many other options. Every time she mentioned her conditions, people told her she was too old.
Back in the day, the assumption was always that male bodyguards were more capable than female ones. The demand for female bodyguards had only emerged in recent years. Unfortunately, she had been trapped in domestic life all this time, with no opportunity to re-enter the workforce, so she’d never learned about it.
Sometimes, solutions and opportunities were closer than they seemed. But until the right moment arrived, it was like staring into a fog—unable to see the answer right in front of her.
Because she never reached out, she assumed the cost would be too high.
But only by taking action, by engaging with reality, would she realize that obstacles could be overcome, barriers broken, and the price was bearable. Everything would clear up with effort. The first step forward would reveal the path ahead.
As a national martial arts champion who, despite years away from competition and professional training, had retained remarkable muscle mass and combat skills—if Mao Xinci had even an ounce of self-awareness, she’d recognize her own worth and potential.
But when you’re in a downward spiral, confidence is hard to come by.
She just wanted a job—any job—to start over. That would be enough.
In a way, she was lucky. Her very first step led her to Gu Zhaoping, someone who could properly assess her value.
Otherwise, judging by her current state, Gu Zhaoping suspected she might have settled for work far beneath her skills—trading more labor and longer hours for meager pay.
That was what she believed she deserved.
Mao Xinci’s rough hands clenched the contract tightly, crumpling the paper slightly. She stared at the words, eyes welling up.
"Alright, if there’s nothing else, get your daughter’s school transfer documents to my assistant, Little Zhao, as soon as possible. She’ll check for suitable schools in Haishi. Transfers there are tough—better environments and resources might mean giving up some things. Be prepared for that, okay?"
Gu Zhaoping glanced at her. "Tuition might eat up most of your salary. She might struggle to keep up, or face unfriendly classmates. But no matter what, I generally support young girls striving for better."
She checked her schedule. "In a few days, I’ll be filming a show at a manor. You’ll need to start work before then. You’ve got three days to sort things out."
The arrangements were crisp, leaving no room for hesitation. Take it or leave it.
Mao Xinci nodded firmly, lifting her head with resolve.
"Yeah!"
She had arrived in Haishi at noon and was already heading back before evening.
At the train station, waiting for the earliest ticket home, she ate a meal at KFC.
She knew her eldest daughter loved it, though the girl rarely indulged—only on Thursdays, when it was cheaper. Her daughter was sensible, aware of how hard it was to make ends meet.
Mao Xinci finished a burger, a pair of wings, and a box of fries, then packed another bucket of wings and a burger to take home.
On the train, the night scenery blurred past outside the window. The glittering skyline of the metropolis flashed through her life for a moment. Amid the chatter around her, she hugged the bucket of wings on her lap.
Her phone lit up with a call—her husband.
"Where’ve you been all day? Why aren’t you back to cook? Am I supposed to fend for myself?"
"Your daughter’s throwing another tantrum. She locked herself in her room, won’t come out or say a word. I’m not bothering with her dinner. Handle it yourself when you get back."
"Fine." For the first time, Mao Xinci heard her own voice sound detached, indifferent. The bucket in her hands still radiated a faint warmth. "Do whatever. Don’t worry about her. Don’t worry about me."
By the time the train arrived, it was past midnight.
She walked to the parking lot, unlocked her scooter, and rode off into the night. The cold wings in the bag somehow still warmed her stomach. The empty streets stretched before her, the wind carrying a sense of boundless freedom.
At home, the living room lights were off. In the dark, she saw the mess—takeout boxes, cigarette butts, beer bottles strewn across the table, untouched.
Drunken snores rumbled from the master bedroom. A sliver of light seeped under the door of the smaller room.
The kitchen light flickered on as the microwave hummed for two minutes.
Mao Xinci knocked. Her daughter let her in.
The girl sat with her back to the door, hunched over a desk crammed with textbooks and workbooks under the glow of a lamp. Her ponytail swayed slightly as she straightened her spine. She wore a pink T-shirt.
Hearing her mother enter, she paused, tilting her head just a fraction—but didn’t turn. She reached for a correction tape, then pressed down hard on her worksheet, leaving a stark white mark.
Then she froze.
A scent hit her. She sniffed, jerked upright, and spun around—
Mao Xinci set down the bucket of wings and a freshly heated, unwrapped burger on a napkin in front of her.
The girl’s pupils shrank.
"We’re leaving tomorrow," Mao Xinci said. "We’re moving out. To my boss’s place."
Her daughter stiffened, gaze snapping up from the burger. "What boss?"
Her heart lurched. The word "boss" carried too many grim connotations in the news and social discourse. Given her mother’s age and situation, a dozen worst-case scenarios flashed through her mind—sacrifices, scams, even trafficking.
Was this because of what she’d said yesterday?
She was nearly overwhelmed by a sense of panic, as if teetering on the edge of an abyss.
Yet Mao Xinci’s hand remained steady, gently stroking her head. That night, the air between the mother and daughter wasn’t thick with the scent of smoke or alcohol, but instead carried the mouthwatering aroma of sizzling, savory chicken wings.
"It’s Boss Gu—a truly remarkable woman."
