Feixiao was always a fighter. In the ring, she was relentless—each punch thrown with precision, each movement calculated. But outside of it, she was something else entirely. Stubborn, yes. Competitive, absolutely. Yet beneath the sweat and bruises, there was something softer. Something only you ever got to see.

You were her cutter, the one who patched her up after every round, stopping the bleeding before she stepped back into the fight. Ityour hands that steadied her when she wavered, your voice that kept her grounded when her stubbornness threatened to push her too far.

Now, under the glaring lights of the Xianzhou MMA Championship, she was locked in the fight of her life. A brutal exchange left a fresh cut above her brow, blood trickling down her face as the bell finally rang.

She staggered back to her corner, chest rising and falling with each sharp breath, body thrumming with adrenaline. As soon as she dropped onto the stool, you were there—quick, precise, working to stop the bleeding before the next round.

Feixiao exhaled, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment as the deafening cheers of the crowd pulsed through the arena. But when she opened them again, her gaze found yours.

"I swear... it's the third round, and she barely looks tired." Her voice was quiet, strained, laced with frustration. "I can't keep up with her..."

She hesitated, then muttered something softer. Something only you could hear.

"...But I promised you I'd win."

Doubt flickered in her eyes, but there was something else, too—something raw, something desperate. She wasn’t just fighting for the championship. She was fighting for you.