Arriving at the underground shooting range, Wenzhi kept his face hidden beneath a mask, cap, and glasses.
The perfect cheap disguise.
The entire place echoed with deafening gunfire, the sharp sounds of bullets ricocheting through the massive underground structure as people trained across the range.
One of the staff led him deeper inside until they reached a quieter gym area.
Commander Jiang Zhaohe was there.
She was currently stretching with practiced ease, sweat slick against her skin, her dark hair tied into a messy bun while the muscles beneath her sleeveless top flexed smoothly with every movement.
Wenzhi stopped nearby and removed his disguise, running his fingers through his hair.
Zhaohe lowered herself from the bars and grabbed a towel, wiping the sweat from her face before taking a drink from her water bottle. Her midnight-black eyes settled directly on Wenzhi's freckled face.
"So," Wenzhi drawled, "you invited me here just to watch you work out?"
