“You two, come on together!”

Hearing Zhou Xi call them, the pair snapped instantly to attention and saluted sharply.

“Yes!”

“No need to be so formal. This isn’t the military,” Zhou Xi said with a gentle smile. “Go change first.”

“Yes!”

They were extremely nervous. No matter how kind Zhou Xi seemed, she was still the Imperial Princess. Coming from military families and raised as loyal citizens of Grand Zhou, their reverence for the royal house ran deep. While Britons or Japanese might dismiss their own royals as parasites, they truly believed: without the imperial family, their nation wouldn’t be where it stands today. This wasn’t mere brainwashing—it was a belief etched into every Grand Zhou citizen’s bones.

After changing, they locked eyes. One sneered. “Our match got interrupted. Settle it properly on court later?”

“Sure. Just don’t blame badminton skills when you lose.”

“That line’s mine!”

Storming out of the locker room with fierce energy, they exchanged a glare and parted ways. Jing Yu hurried to Zhou Xi’s side; Mu Xun approached Su Wei. Mu Xun knew Jing Yu’s ulterior motive—just trying to cozy up to Zhou Xi. *But if I crush her outright,* Mu Xun thought, *Zhou Xi will surely lose faith in her.*

Zhou Xi and Su Wei exchanged a glance and chuckled.

“Good spirit! Keep it up!”

“Yes!”

They crouched low, glaring fiercely at each other. Zhou Xi shrugged and served. Mu Xun shot left, smashed the shuttlecock hard toward the opposite corner. Zhou Xi couldn’t reach it—but Jing Yu had already anticipated it. Two quick steps, and *thwack*—she sent it soaring back.

Volley after volley, back and forth, utterly absorbed. Su Wei and Zhou Xi quietly stepped off the court. To Jing Yu and Mu Xun, the shuttlecock was a bullet. Ten minutes in, one was destroyed—not the feathers, but the cork base *cracked*.

*How much force was that?!*

Su Wei turned to Zhou Xi. “Do they have a grudge?”

“Not really…” Zhou Xi paused. “Wait. One’s from the Divine Sword Imperial Guard, the other from the Nanzhou Special Task Force. They’ve never gotten along.”

“Huh? Same country’s forces feud?”

Zhou Xi explained the history. Su Wei nodded slowly. “Healthy competition, then?”

“Exactly. External threat? They unite instantly.”

“Good.”

Su Wei watched with interest. Zhou Xi accepted two energy drinks from a maid. They sipped leisurely, enjoying the scene.

Two hours later—drenched in sweat, a dozen shuttlecocks and three rackets ruined—Zhou Xi finally snapped.

“Enough! Good grief! Keep this up and you’ll wreck everything. Is this badminton? All you do is smash and drive shots!”

Startled, the two lowered their heads silently. Su Wei patted Zhou Xi’s arm. “Go shower. Skip the match. Dinner’s soon—join us.”

“Yes.”

They glanced up, snorted coldly, and nearly shoved each other entering the locker room. Zhou Xi sighed. “Weiwei… I changed my mind. Send them home.”

“Sure.”

Su Wei knew it was deliberate. The two froze. *If we keep fighting, we’re both out.* They spun around, forcing bright smiles.

“Imperial Princess! We’ll never compete again!”

“Right! No more!”

“You’re my real older sister!”

“And you’re my real younger sister!”

They hugged, kissed cheeks—then the moment Zhou Xi and Su Wei vanished into the next locker room, they sprang apart, scrubbing the kissed spots with disgusted grimaces.

At dinner, they sat stiffly on chair edges, only touching dishes before them. They hadn’t wanted this table—but Zhou Xi’s order left no choice. Zero appetite.

“Introduce yourselves.”

“Yes!”

Mu Xun shot up, saluting. “Mu Xun! Former squad leader, Seventh Squad, Third Brigade, Divine Sword Imperial Guard of Grand Zhou!”

Jing Yu stood. “Jing Yu! Former captain, Nanzhou Special Task Force detachment, Gabon.”

“Sit, relax,” Zhou Xi said, gesturing with her chopsticks. “I asked you here: will you guard my friend?”

They’d expected it. Zhou Xi would never need *their* protection. They nodded.

“This is Su Wei—chairwoman of Jiucang Group, making waves lately. Your duty: 24/7 protection. Not needed at school.”

Su Wei added, “In Grand Zhou, take turns—three days, four days. Salary: 10,000 Zhou yuan monthly. Full insurance covered. Satisfactory?”

“Satisfactory.”

The pay was generous, but their real hope was Zhou Xi’s influence for a military return. Money? Secondary. Still… nice.

“Settled,” Su Wei said. Zhou Xi signaled the maid. Moments later, two handguns and a booklet labeled *Firearm Permit* appeared.

“One gun each. Thirty rounds to start. Rarely needed in Grand Zhou or Huaxia. Abroad? Come to me. This permit is top-level—valid worldwide.”