After Adam gently rejected Ling, the table slowly but surely regained its light atmosphere. The exquisite dishes kept coming, each one more impressive than the last. Hao Jun spared no expense when he offered this dinner to the doctor who had helped him so much. The food was nothing short of incredible—every bite bursting with complex flavors and impeccable presentation.
Despite the rejection, Ling didn’t relent in engaging with Adam. While her flirtation had been more overt earlier in the evening, now it was more subtle, but her intentions remained clear. She occasionally leaned over, offering recommendations on what food was best at any given time.
“Abalone is the star tonight,” Ling leaned closer, her voice carrying a playful warmth that belied her disappointment. “You really don’t want to miss it.”
Adam smiled back, polite but distant. “I’ll give it a try. You always know the best picks.”
Her eyes lingered on him longer than necessary before she returned to her own plate. Despite the subtle shift in their dynamic, she wouldn’t let her disappointment show. She maintained her grace, continuing to guide Adam through the dishes, her voice soft but insistent.
“The duck,” she added briefly, “is particularly good here. You shouldn’t miss it.”
As the conversation flowed around them, Adam kept his senses sharp. Even amidst the warm laughter and the scent of exquisite food, a sudden chill cut through the evening air. The laughter and clatter of silverware faded in his mind, replaced by a growing sense of unease. His eyes swept the terrace, scanning for the source.
Something was wrong.
His hand paused mid-motion, hovering over the coffee mug that had been sitting in front of him—the remnants of his earlier cup now cold. His eyes locked on a man nearby, a waiter he had seen several times throughout the evening. But something about the way the man moved was too deliberate, too tense.
Adam’s sharp gaze caught the glint of metal as the waiter pulled a .38 revolver from beneath his apron. Adam recognized it instantly.
Time seemed to slow.
BANG!
Without a second thought, Adam grabbed the coffee mug from the table. His hand flew precisely, and the mug sailed across the terrace, smashing into the man’s wrist with a sickening crunch. The waiter cried out in pain as his wrist snapped under the force of the impact. The revolver, half-raised, discharged a shot—its aim diverted by Adam’s throw. The bullet hit the wall just a few feet from Hao Jun, missing him by a narrow margin. Had Adam not reacted when he did, there was no doubt that the billionaire who just woke up from his coma would have been hit.
SMASH!
Before the would-be assassin could recover, Adam threw a small, fancy bowl with intricate gold designs—real gold, no doubt—containing the cold dregs of the soup Ling had recommended earlier. The bowl flew straight at the man’s face, hitting with such force that it shattered on impact. The combined shock of his broken wrist and the sheer impact of the bowl hitting his face sent the man crumpling forward to the floor, his body collapsing under the pain and force. The revolver skidded out of his hand, spinning on the ground closer to Adam.
The instant the gun hit the floor, Adam's instincts kicked in. He sensed the danger wasn't over, and as he glanced around, his peripheral vision caught movement from several guests who were not running or hiding—they were moving toward Hao Jun with purpose. His suspicions were confirmed. Some of the guests had been Hao Jun’s bodyguards all along, and now they were closing in, positioning themselves to shield Hao Jun and Ling with their bodies.
But there were three others moving differently.
"Get down! Duck for cover!" Adam’s voice cut through the chaos with such urgency and authority that everyone, including his father, obeyed instinctively.
The command came just in time. Two of Hao Jun’s bodyguards, both wearing black suits, stepped forward, using their bodies to shield him. But Adam quickly noticed something wasn’t right. Three other people were moving differently. They weren’t focusing on the threat but instead turning their guns on the guards.
Adam’s sharp eyes quickly took in their details: a woman in a black dress, a second in a white suit, and the third in a grey suit.
BANG!
Before anyone could react, Adam acted. His first shot rang out, striking the woman in the black dress in the shoulder, sending her stumbling back. That was enough to break the confusion. The two guards snapped to attention, raising their weapons.
The gunfight continued.
BANG!
Adam ducked behind a pillar as bullets zipped past him. The assailant in the white suit aimed directly at Adam, firing just as Adam moved. A bullet grazed Adam’s upper arm, the sting sharp, but he didn’t falter. In one swift motion, he retaliated, squeezing the trigger and landing a shot in the white-suited guard’s shoulder. The man staggered, clutching his arm, his gun dropping.
Taking advantage of the chaos, one of the guards fired at the third assailant—the one in the grey suit. The bullet struck his hand, disarming him. The guard cried out, his gun clattering to the floor. But there was no time to celebrate.
BANG!
The last remaining assassin, the woman in the black dress, tried to raise her weapon again despite having an injured shoulder, but Adam was faster. He fired one more time, hitting her in the leg and bringing her down for good.
The terrace fell silent, gunfire fading into the night air. Adam stood, revolver still in hand, scanning the scene. The fight was over. The assassins were down, and the guards had regained control.
The guards, still breathing heavily, moved quickly to secure the assailants. The guard in the grey suit groaned in pain, clutching his injured hand, while the woman in the black dress struggled to sit up, grimacing as she tried to reach for her leg.
Adam lowered his revolver, his eyes sharp and steady as they swept over the scene one last time. Only then did he feel the sting of the bullet wound on his upper arm, the warm trickle of blood running down his sleeve. He flexed his fingers, ensuring full movement despite the graze, and exhaled.
The gunfire ceased, leaving the night air still and heavy with the scent of smoke. For a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath.
Ling stood frozen in place, her eyes wide as they darted from the fallen assassins to Adam. A mixture of fear and awe flickered across her face. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came, only a soft breath of disbelief.
Isaac’s jaw clenched as he processed the chaos, his hand instinctively hovering near his side where a medical bag had once been, as if searching for something to fix. His stern, protective nature, honed from years of being both a father and a doctor, pushed to the surface, ready to act.
Cassandra’s hands trembled slightly, but her eyes were sharp as they swept over the scene, calculating. She was already assessing injuries and mentally cataloging who needed care. But the mother in her couldn’t ignore the blood on Adam’s sleeve, and her concern was palpable in her furrowed brow.
Nathan remained at the edge of the terrace, and his fists clenched by his sides, his gaze never leaving Adam. His expression was tight with something more than fear—a simmering jealousy, perhaps, or frustration at being a spectator to his younger brother’s calm heroism. He said nothing, but his silence was louder than words.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
Selene, typically composed and collected, let out a slow breath. Her eyes softened, reflecting a quiet sense of pride as she looked at Adam. Something in how he acted—decisive, confident, unshaken—resonated deeply with her. Despite being in shock, her lips curled into a small smile.
On the other hand, Keira is too shocked to react in any way other than being frozen in horror.
Sitting at the center of it all, Hao Jun wiped his brow with a shaking hand. His gaze flickered between Adam and the guards, trying to process how close he had come to death. "You saved me," he muttered, his voice unsteady. "All of you... but especially you, Adam."
For a brief moment, everything seemed to happen at once—Ling’s unspoken admiration, Isaac’s calculating look, Cassandra’s concerned gaze, Nathan’s smoldering jealousy, Selene’s proud recognition, Keira's shock, and Hao Jun’s relieved gratitude—all converged in the aftermath of the chaos.
But amidst it all, Isaac and Cassandra moved as one. Their instincts, both as parents and doctors, kicked in. Together, they rushed toward Adam, eyes locked on his grazed arm.
"Adam, let me see that," Cassandra demanded, her voice firm but tinged with worry.
Isaac was already pulling out bandages from a small kit he kept with him, his eyes scanning Adam for any other signs of injury. "That was close," he muttered, though his voice carried a fatherly pride hidden beneath his professional tone. "Are you okay? How the hell did you pull that off?"
Adam, who just dropped the revolver to the floor so Hao Jun's guards wouldn't mistake him for a hostile, gave them a slight smile. "Adrenaline, I guess. But I’m fine, really."
But Isaac and Cassandra weren’t convinced. A bullet had grazed their youngest son, and that fact alone was enough to trigger every protective instinct they had.
Adam's gaze swept over his family, his heart pounding not from the fight but from a deeper concern—Were they all okay? He took a slow breath, steadying his voice.
“Is everyone alright?” he asked, his eyes lingering on his family. The question came out calm, but inside, a wave of worry crashed through him, threatening to break his collected exterior. His parents and his siblings were all that mattered at that moment.
Isaac’s jaw tightened, his mind racing with questions. How had Adam done this? How had his youngest son taken down armed men- no, multiple armed men? But Isaac pushed the thought aside. Adam was standing in front of him, blood staining his sleeve. A gunshot wound. Isaac could only think about whether his son was truly okay.
Cassandra’s gaze followed Isaac’s, settling on the blood trickling from Adam’s arm. Questions churned in her mind as well, but a more immediate concern swept them away—her son had been shot. That was all she needed to see to silence any thoughts of how Adam had done what he did. Right now, she was his mother first, a doctor second. The rest didn’t matter.
The Cosmos twins, Selene and Keira, stood trembling at the edge of the terrace. Selene's hands shook uncontrollably, her wide eyes flitting between Adam and the fallen bodies. The trauma of what had just unfolded left the twins visibly shaken, unable to find the words to speak.
Nathan’s fists remained clenched at his sides, his knuckles white. He trembled, too, but not only from shock. Fear, awe, and something darker—jealousy—gnawed at him. Who is this man before him? His younger brother was so capable, so brave. Nathan’s mind struggled to reconcile what he had just witnessed.
For a brief moment, the questions and emotions of the family hung in the air. Adam’s inquiry, the twins’ trembling, Isaac and Cassandra’s unspoken questions—none of it could take precedence over one thing: Adam was hurt.
Isaac and Cassandra moved as one, their instincts as parents and doctors overpowering any curiosity they had. They rushed toward Adam, their eyes locking onto the blood on his sleeve.
"Adam, let me see that," Cassandra demanded, her voice firm but laced with worry.
Isaac had already pulled out a small kit, his professional instincts kicking in. “That was too close,” he muttered, but his voice carried more than clinical concern—it was parental. “You could have been-”
However, Isaac couldn't bear to finish his sentence.
Adam offered them a slight smile, holding up his hand. “I’m fine, really,” he said, trying to reassure them. "Is everyone alright?" he repeated.
He allowed himself a small sigh of relief as they nodded in response. “It’s just a graze on the upper arm. No major artery or vein was struck,” Adam explained calmly. “I can apply a quick pressure dressing myself. I’ll be fine.”
Though his tone was matter-of-fact, his eyes showed unmistakable tension. He turned back to his family, his thoughts swirling beneath the surface. The reality of what had happened weighed heavily on him.
Adam forced a grin, trying to lift the mood. “I’d rather be the hero of the day than a murderer tomorrow—even if it’s self-defense.”
The half-joke hung in the air, but Adam’s feelings about it were more layered. He would rather end the night without any deaths, yes, but he had no regrets about doing what he had to do. The well-being of those who had fired guns in his family’s presence wasn’t his concern. Protecting his parents and siblings was.
Adam scanned his family again—shocked, shaken, but unharmed. The weight that had pressed on his chest finally began to lift. His own body started to register the sharp, throbbing pain from the gunshot wound in his arm, but he pushed it aside. The good news was more important: his family was okay. None of them were hurt.
He let out a quiet breath, finally allowing himself to relax just a little. Seeing his parents doting on him over what he knew was only a graze made him smile. His mind wandered back to the countless, far more brutal wounds he had suffered in his previous life. This? This was nothing.
'Band-aid level,' he mused internally, not even worthy of attention.
As the tension began to ease, Adam’s hand instinctively moved toward his breast pocket, where he kept his cigarettes. Lighting one always helped calm his nerves. But as he reached for it with his right arm, a sharp pain reminded him that his arm was injured. His cigarette and lighter were tucked into his left breast pocket, and with his arm hurt, he found it difficult to get to them.
Cassandra’s sharp eyes immediately noticed the movement. “Adam, what are you doing?” she asked with a motherly scold. “Don’t move your arm.”
Isaac glanced at his son, his brow furrowing. “Can’t you stay still for five seconds?” he added, half serious, half relieved, as he watched Adam struggle. Their tone was light, but concern laced their words.
Before Adam could figure out a solution, Ling and Hao Jun approached.
“Adam,” Hao Jun began, his voice still carrying the weight of recent danger. “You were extraordinary back there. I owe my life to you, and so does Ling. Who knows what might've happened if it weren’t for your quick actions.” He glanced at Isaac and Cassandra, his expression softening. “You’ve raised a remarkable son.”
Isaac’s stern expression softened at the compliment. He met Hao Jun’s gaze, nodding with a small, proud smile. “He has his moments,” Isaac said, his tone modest but laced with pride. He placed a hand on Adam’s shoulder, squeezing it gently. Though still focused on Adam’s arm, Cassandra glanced up and smiled faintly, appreciating the praise for her son.
Ling nodded fervently, stepping closer to Adam, her eyes filled with admiration. “Thank you, Adam. You saved us,” she said softly. “I can’t imagine what would happen if you weren’t here.”
Hao Jun sighed heavily. “I’m sorry for what happened. I’ll get to the bottom of this. I promise you.”
Isaac gave a short, knowing chuckle. “I imagine a man like you—one of the world’s billionaires—will have a few enemies. We’re not holding you responsible for what happened,” Isaac said, his tone sincere but practical. “Besides, none of us were hurt—except Adam.” His gaze flicked to his son’s arm, then back to Hao Jun. “But it seems it’s just a graze. He’ll live.”
Adam shifted uncomfortably. He had completely forgotten about the Haos during the fight. While he was peripherally aware that Hao Jun had most likely been the target, once he saw the waiter pull the revolver, all of his focus had been on his family. The Haos had vanished from his thoughts, slipping into the background as his instincts took over.
He had fought and risked his life in that gunfight for his parents and siblings. Not for the billionaire. Not for his granddaughter.
As they continued to thank him, Adam managed to force out a mechanical response. “I just did what needed to be done.” He offered a small, forced smile, feeling out of place under their gratitude.
Ling’s gaze lingered on him, her expression soft with concern. “You’re hurt, Adam,” she said, her voice gentle but insistent. “You were incredible out there… but you need to rest. Let us take care of you.”
Adam nodded awkwardly, feeling the discomfort build again. He glanced back at his parents, hoping for a reprieve, and reached for his cigarette again, but Isaac and Cassandra had none of it.
“Don’t even think about it,” Cassandra scolded lightly, her hands scrutinizing his arm. “Let us finish looking at this.”
Adam tried to protest, though a smile tugged at his lips. “It’s nothing, Mom. It's just a flesh wound.”
“Shut up, Adam, and don’t move,” Isaac said firmly. “Let us do our job.”
Ling, noticing Adam’s struggle to reach his cigarette, smiled softly and stepped closer. “Here, let me,” she said. Before Adam could react, she reached into his breast pocket, pulling out the cigarette and lighter. With a delicate flick, she lit the cigarette for him with a small smile.
“There you go. A little help from me,” she said, her voice light but still filled with admiration.
Adam took a slow drag from the cigarette, grateful but still feeling the moment's awkwardness. “Thanks,” he muttered, feeling more at ease but still unsettled by everything unfolding.
“Don’t smoke,” Cassandra said, her voice suddenly sharp with concern. “It’s bad for your health.”
Adam raised an eyebrow, the cigarette between his lips. “So is a gunshot, Mom. Between that and a cigarette, the cigarette is preferable. Besides,” he added with a smirk, “I’m an adult now.”
Isaac’s face darkened with sudden anger. “Don’t talk to your mother like that!” he snapped, his voice firm.
Ling and Hao Jun watched the scene unfold with open amusement, a lightness in their expressions despite the tension surrounding them moments before.