The Yang to His Yin ࿊ ☾𖤓 ( A Lord Shen X Female Reader: Kung Fu Panda 2)

✯ 🥂𝐀 𝐓𝐨𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐓𝐨𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰 🥂 ✯

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(A/N's Note): Hello, and welcome to the next instalment chapter of the story! It certainly has been a while and I've been celebrating! We've hit well over 1.5k reads and 50 votes! I cannot tell you how happy it makes me that people like to read what I've written! I won't say anymore, but thank you! Enjoy reading! I shall be uploading more frequently now! A~ xoxo
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Y/N's vision blurred as she stumbled forward, each step feeling heavier than the last. Her body was on the verge of collapse, her legs burning with the strain of pushing beyond their limits. She felt like a drunkard staggering through the catwalks of the factory, each footfall unsteady and uneven. It almost made her laugh — the absurdity of it all. How she was still running, even though her body screamed for rest.

But she wasn't about to give in. Not now. Not after everything.

Shen was close. She could feel his presence looming behind her, his sharp eyes locked onto her every move, his metal claws clicking ominously against the steel catwalk. He was methodical in his approach, his footsteps measured, deliberate. He didn't need to rush. Y/N was faltering, and Shen knew it.

Her breath came out in ragged gasps as she neared the end of the walkway. Her eyes darted wildly, searching for some kind of escape, some miracle that would give her the upper hand again. That's when she saw it — a narrow window frame overlooking the factory floor and beyond, the open paths leading back to the city.

Desperation fueled her as she made a break for it, her hands gripping the cold metal of the window ledge. Just as she hauled herself up, she glanced back over her shoulder. Shen was right there, only a small step behind her. His feathers shimmered in the dim light, his gaze fixed on her with an intense, almost predatory focus. His beak curved into a knowing smirk as he reached out, fingers poised to take hold of her.

"Y/N..." Shen's voice was calm, teasing, as though he had already won. "You've run far enough, don't you think?"

His fingertips grazed the fabric of her clothes, so close that Y/N felt a jolt of panic surge through her veins. She could feel the exhaustion in every fiber of her being, pulling her down like an anchor, begging her to stop, to let it end. But she wasn't about to lose. Not again.

With a final burst of strength, Y/N pushed off the window frame and leaped into the air. She heard Shen's sharp intake of breath behind her, the moment of surprise when she escaped his grasp. The wind rushed past her as she hurtled downward, her body twisting in the air. Below, she spotted a wheelbarrow full of soft crops — a ridiculous sight at the edge of a factory, but she wasn't about to question her luck.

She landed with a thud, the impact jarring but softened by the piled crops. She barely had a moment to breathe before the wheelbarrow jerked into motion, rolling away from the factory with surprising speed. Y/N glanced up, her heart still racing, and saw her old friend Mei Ling at the helm, pushing the cart with a mischievous grin plastered on her face.

"Need a lift?" Mei Ling called over her shoulder, her voice full of playful amusement as she steered the wheelbarrow down the cobblestone path leading away from the factory.

Y/N let out a breathless laugh, her body sagging into the soft pile of crops as the cart picked up speed. "You have no idea how much I needed this," she replied, still panting from the chase.

Back at the window, Shen stood frozen for a moment, his outstretched wing hovering where Y/N had just been. His sharp eyes followed her as she plummeted into the wheelbarrow below. For a moment, his expression was unreadable, his face a mask of calm composure. But when the realization sank in that Y/N had slipped from his grasp once again, his calm facade cracked, and he let out an irritated growl. His feathers puffed out in frustration, his claws digging into the metal of the catwalk.