The Favored Heiress
Chapter 199: Entering the Laboratory, Still Time for Shooting?

Chapter 199: Chapter 199: Entering the Laboratory, Still Time for Shooting?

Li Qiao strolled casually over and stood in front of a row of suitcases, her eyes twinkling with brilliant starlight.

Brazil PT, French Mle, Colt, Beretta, Desert Eagle... and so on.

Each gun in the suitcases had long been out of production but was well-known and recognized.

Even at an auction, they were hard to come by.

Yet Shang Yu brought out eight at once, and brazenly displayed them within the shooting range.

Li Qiao raised her eyebrows at Shang Yu, then picked out the standard model Desert Eagle from one of the suitcases.

Although it was also a .375 caliber, it couldn’t compare with the golden Desert Eagle.

At that moment, Shang Yu watched Li Qiao’s movements with picking up the gun and the magazine, an amused smile in his eyes.

Indeed, his girl was an old hand at handling guns.

That night in South Sea Valley, despite the dense rain and his raging fury, he had noticed Li Qiao’s proficient stance with a gun.

"Master Yan, why bring so many guns?"

Li Qiao held the Desert Eagle, her eyebrows slightly raised in puzzlement.

The shooting range had safe civilian firearms; these kinds of real guns were not for casual use.

The only possibility was that he had brought them himself.

At this time, the man took a leisurely drag of his cigarette, casually picked up the Colt, looked down with a smile, and said, "Next week’s entry into the laboratory, still have time to play shooting?"

Li Qiao paused, then fell silent.

Not to mention playing shooting, even finding time to eat and sleep was likely a squeeze.

Doing research was no child’s play.

Seeing her touch the gun with a resigned expression, Shang Yu put down the Colt, patted her shoulder, and, looking up towards the direction of the shooting target, said, "Go ahead, there are bullets at the bottom of the case; shoot as much as you want."

This indulgent tone made Li Qiao’s fingertips curl, filling her heart with indescribable feelings.

Probably only her boyfriend would bring such rare, real guns and let her play freely in the shooting gallery.

Li Qiao indeed hadn’t used a real gun in a long time.

Touching and actually firing a gun were ultimately different experiences.

But no matter how long it had been, this kind of cold weapon, filled with the scent of death, was still her favorit

Li Qiao twirled the standard Desert Eagle in her hand a couple of times, then, with a profound look in her eyes, she looked up at Shang Yu. Moments later, she couldn’t help but walk up to him, stand on tiptoe, and give a light peck on his cheek, "Thank you, Master Yan."

The man’s eyes darkened as he watched Li Qiao walk towards the shooting stand. His lips slightly parted, he casually leaned against the long table, watching her slowly raise her hand and fire three shots at the target.

The explosive force of a real gun is worlds apart from that of a safety gun.

Including the recoil and the blast sound, they all had a heart-shocking effect.

But Li Qiao didn’t wear safety goggles or earplugs; after firing, inhaling the faint smell of gunpowder in the air, her eyebrows and eyes danced with recklessness and defiance.

For a moment, it was as if she had returned to years before.

The barren Primitive Forest, the tumultuous Border Tribes, the scent of wild grass mixed with blood filling the air.

The surging Border Seven Sons, driving cars, wielding guns, measuring up against the mercenaries attempting to break through the border.

Those were days steeped in blood, yet also the time of freedom Li Qiao found hardest to forget.

Images flickered past her vision frame by frame; thinking of something, Li Qiao opened her eyes, her breathing disordered.

Her hand holding the gun shook slightly, a gradual reddish hue creeping over the bottom of her eyes, her gaze filled with suppressed emotions.

Suddenly, a warm presence pressed in from her side.

A broad, warm palm covered her gun-holding hand and instantly drove away the trembling in her fingertips.

By her ear was a deep and magnetic voice, "Distracted while shooting?"