He and His Black Moonlight

I yelled at Shen Jing, “Get in!”

I couldn’t let Shen Jing stay.

His marksmanship and knife skills were extremely formidable; even in a one-on-one confrontation, many police officers would die by his hand.

Shen Jing quickly got in the car.

He even had the nerve to joke, a cigarette dangling from his lips, looking like a complete scoundrel.

“I thought you were going to leave me behind just now.”

I floored the accelerator, and the car almost frantically sped into a narrow alley.

The police cars behind us gave chase.

Shen Jing raised his hand to shoot.

I grabbed his hand, “Don’t shoot, Jing Bao.”

He froze.

Then he tossed the gun aside, “You haven’t called me that in a long time.”

I smiled, “You used to hate that nickname.”

Shen Jing smirked, “Yeah, I’m a grown man.

“Such a sissy nickname doesn’t suit me.”

“And now?” I suddenly slowed down the car.

Shen Jing: “I love it.”