Chapter 24#
The “surveillance device” the warden finally gave Zhao Xing was a small round lump with a magnet, about the size of a fingernail, just enough to attach to Zhao Xing’s electronic wristband.
When the warden handed it to Zhao Xing, he leaned in and whispered, “The higher-ups might check.”
“The higher-ups” could refer to the prison’s top brass, or it could mean “the surface.”
Clearly, both knew it was the latter.
Zhao Xing glanced at him, silently praising this guard for being so sharp. “Got it. I’ll play it by ear.”
As he stepped into the elevator lobby of Building 8, Zhao Xing suddenly felt a bit awkward.
His original eight-person dorm was on the fifteenth floor underground, but yesterday morning, Luo Mingshan had spent 500 reform points to upgrade him to a double room on the third floor.
So where was he supposed to sleep now?
Logically, after issuing such harsh words, he should coldheartedly move out of the double room and back to the eight-person dorm.
But…
The eight-person dorm was no longer his assigned room, and prisoners weren’t allowed to sleep in other dorms—getting caught even once would cost 20 reform points.
That’s why Zhang Sheng, after being knocked unconscious by Zhao Xing’s flashlight in the storage room, had snuck back to his own dorm with fear and caution when he woke up.
The problem was that Zhao Xing now had zero reform points!
If he dared to go to Room 1502, he wouldn’t even need to head to the academy tomorrow; he’d just go straight to the electric chair room and wait.
Just as Zhao Xing was wrestling with this dilemma for two or three seconds, Luo Mingshan silently pressed the button for the third floor.
Ever since Zhao Xing had delivered that speech, Luo Mingshan had been remarkably quiet.
He had even become more restrained, always keeping at least a meter’s distance from Zhao Xing. Even now, standing in the elevator, he remained silent, eyes lowered, in the corner.
Seeing Luo Mingshan so dejected actually made Zhao Xing feel less awkward.
Whatever.
He was the bully anyway.
After cursing someone out and then spending a hundred million of their money without hesitation, what was shamelessly crashing in their double room?
A bully acts without reason and without scruples.
“Ding!”
The elevator arrived. Zhao Xing stepped out first, then, as if walking into his own home, swiped open the door to the double room, did a quick wash, and lay down on the bed that Luo Mingshan had made for him.
The bedding Luo Mingshan prepared was always soft and fluffy, carrying a faint calming scent that helped Zhao Xing fall asleep faster than anything.
But tonight, Zhao Xing found it hard to sleep.
In the dim light of the night lamp, he watched Luo Mingshan slowly enter the room, wash up quietly, and climb into bed without a sound.
Like a ghost forced to share a space with Zhao Xing.
The first thing Zhao Xing felt when he woke up was a headache.
The second thing: shit, he’d overslept.
A glance at the alarm clock confirmed it.
The first class at Academy 7 had already been going for fifteen minutes.
That meant he would be deducted 0.5 reform points.
But his electronic card balance was zero.
Zhao Xing’s headache worsened.
He lay flat on the bed for a moment, calming his sorrow, then reluctantly accepted the harsh reality. Finally, he got dressed, ready to head to the interrogation center.
Going by himself was better than being knocked out by the wristband’s electric shock and dragged there by the guards.
Zhao Xing couldn’t afford to lose face like that.
After putting on his clothes and shoes, he picked up the electronic card from the table.
Which repentance room had he been assigned to this time?
Zhao Xing glanced at it and froze.
—There was no “electric shock notice” on his card. Only a glaring balance: 9999.5.
Meanwhile, his usual breakfast was on the table.
Even the clothes he’d worn yesterday had been washed, dried, and hung up.
Aside from all that, the person who had recharged his reform points, bought breakfast, and washed his clothes was nowhere in the dorm. Not a single note left behind.
It was as if he was trying his best to avoid being noticed, to hide his presence—yet somehow, everywhere Zhao Xing looked, there was proof of his existence.
Zhao Xing tossed the card and caught it. Then tossed it again.
He repeated this three or four times before stopping.
Then he picked up the breakfast on the table and slowly ate while heading toward Academy 7.
Through the window of Class A109 at Academy 7, Zhao Xing saw Luo Mingshan.
Luo Mingshan sat in the back corner of the classroom, head bowed, lashes shadowing his eyes, his expression unreadable. The only movement was his pale fingers stroking his little tiger plushie, tracing over every pattern.
He was sitting there quietly, but Zhao Xing could see a kind of unprecedented despondency in him.
Looking closer, Zhao Xing noticed there was no one around Luo Mingshan—empty seats everywhere. Some students had even chosen to squeeze into the front row rather than sit near him.
As if the entire world had abandoned Luo Mingshan.
Zhao Xing knew exactly why this was happening.
—Because Zhao Xing was infamous. Because everyone thought Luo Mingshan belonged to him. So everyone treated Luo Mingshan like a plague.
Then… what would happen after he left?
Would those people stop isolating Luo Mingshan and instead start coveting him, bullying him, taking revenge on him?
Yes.
Zhao Xing went to Academy 8 to find Liang Xiaopang.
But unlike the last time he’d gone looking for Song Yao, he was more polite this time. He waited in the hallway outside the classroom, finishing his last cigarette, until Liang Xiaopang’s class ended.
As soon as Liang Xiaopang walked out, Zhao Xing grabbed him by the shoulder and dragged him away.
Although Liang Xiaopang hadn’t taken much of a beating last time, he had still been terrified by Zhao Xing. The moment he saw Zhao Xing again, he flinched. When Zhao Xing pulled him forward, he instinctively resisted and tried to step back.
Zhao Xing locked an arm around his neck and leaned close, whispering, “You need money?”
Liang Xiaopang immediately stopped struggling.
Zhao Xing’s words seemed to have given him endless courage, chasing away his fear of Zhao Xing.
With a professional demeanor, he asked, “Brother Zhao, did you come to me about your ideological assessment in two days?”
Zhao Xing: “Not me. It’s Luo Mingshan.”
Liang Xiaopang’s expression shifted into fake understanding. “Oh, I get it, Brother Zhao. You want me to rig his ideological assessment so he fails…”
Zhao Xing slapped him on the back of the head and said coldly, “Can’t you think of something good for once?”
Liang Xiaopang rubbed his head, confused. “Huh? No? Brother Zhao, aren’t you trying to get back at Luo Mingshan? After what he did to you…”
No way, no way—the crazy rumor he’d just heard couldn’t be true, could it? Those two were actually together?!
Zhao Xing cut him off impatiently. “Just tell me—can you do it or not?”
“Yes, yes, yes!” Liang Xiaopang nodded quickly. “Brother Zhao, come to my office first, and we’ll discuss the details.”
Once inside the office, Zhao Xing plopped down on the sofa like a lord and ordered, “Look up Luo Mingshan’s info for me.”
“Sure, sure.”
Liang Xiaopang immediately pulled up Luo Mingshan’s file on his work computer and showed it to Zhao Xing.
Name: Luo Mingshan
Age: 18
Gender: Male
Reason for Reform: Excessive self-defense.
Details: The prisoner resisted molestation by Fan and Wang with relatively violent means. During the resistance, the prisoner sustained a broken rib, fractured collarbone, and a stab wound to the abdomen. However, Fan died and Wang was severely injured. After Fan’s death, the prisoner did not stop but continued to vent his anger by stabbing Fan more than twenty times, causing serious social repercussions.
Release Conditions: Complete two years of imprisonment and pass an ideological assessment every six months. If the assessment is failed after the sentence ends, a retake is required before release. Exceptional scores may qualify for sentence reduction.
Liang Xiaopang pointed to the last line and said to Zhao Xing, “See? If we get Luo Mingshan’s score above ninety-five, he’ll be out in six months.”
Zhao Xing’s voice was hoarse. “Got a cigarette?”
Liang Xiaopang immediately handed him a cigarette and lighter from his drawer, even lighting it for him in a sycophantic gesture.
Zhao Xing took a drag, and his voice grew even rougher. “What about the injury report?”
Liang Xiaopang pulled up the injury assessments for all three individuals.
Zhao Xing’s eyes locked onto the line: “The offender suffered two broken ribs on the left side, a fractured collarbone requiring two steel plates, a stab wound to the abdomen, spent half a month in the ICU, and had a weak will to live.”
He took another drag, steadying himself before asking, “Wang didn’t die. He’s guilty of molestation, so he should be in prison. Where is he?”
Liang Xiaopang tried to search, then said awkwardly, “I don’t have clearance for that, but my uncle’s wife’s friend definitely does. I got this internship at a young age thanks to him. The ideological assessment thing I mentioned earlier is also something he handles; I just take a cut, heh heh…”
Zhao Xing: “How much?”
Liang Xiaopang: “To get out in six months, two assessments above ninety-five are needed. Five thousand each, so ten thousand total. Looking up Wang’s info can be a freebie…”
Zhao Xing squinted. “The unit is reform points?”
Liang Xiaopang: “…Yes.”
Zhao Xing stared directly into Liang Xiaopang’s eyes and said slowly, “So cutting a year and a half would cost a hundred million?”
“If the family transfers money directly, we can give a twenty percent discount…” Liang Xiaopang’s voice trailed off, even he thought the price was outrageous. “Mainly because my uncle’s wife’s friend sells reform points at a twenty percent discount to prisoners…”
Under Zhao Xing’s chilling gaze, Liang Xiaopang finally gritted his teeth. “At most, a five percent discount. I can’t go lower. I’ll even give up my own commission…”
Zhao Xing relented. “Fine. I’ll give you half now and the other half after this assessment.”
“Alright, alright, Brother Zhao. I’ll contact him right now and get you Wang’s info.”
Ten minutes later, Zhao Xing had Wang Zan’s details.
Wang Zan, male, twenty-eight years old, Room 1506, Building 9.
But what was interesting was that there was a green checkmark after his information.
“What does this mean?” Zhao Xing pointed at the checkmark.
Liang Xiaopang was momentarily stunned, then murmured, “It’s a green channel prisoner…”
Zhao Xing tapped the table impatiently. “What does ‘green channel prisoner’ mean?”
Liang Xiaopang wiped the sweat off his face and explained quietly, “It means… he’s like Luo Mingshan. He also paid a hundred million, so he’ll be out in six months.”
Zhao Xing’s expression turned icy.
Liang Xiaopang quickly added a hint, “But… if he misses the exam for some reason, there’s nothing we can do about it, and the money won’t be refunded.”
Zhao Xing gave him a meaningful look. “Got it.”
Since this guy was also no short of money, Zhao Xing skipped the academy and factory and went straight to his dorm to ambush him. He actually found him.
In the bathroom of the dorm.
But he wasn’t alone. There was also a seventeen- or eighteen-year-old boy pinned underneath him, struggling desperately.
A leopard can’t change its spots.
Zhao Xing sneered.
Wang Zan looked panicked when he saw Zhao Xing, but quickly regained his composure. “Zhao Xing? What are you doing here? I haven’t offended you, have I?”
Not offended?
Everyone in the world knew Luo Mingshan was Zhao Xing’s man, and this bastard dared to say he hadn’t offended him?
Pathetic acting.
But Zhao Xing didn’t feel like dealing with him.
He closed the bathroom door, yanked Wang Zan off the boy, grabbed him by the collar, and started beating him in silence.
Because Wang Zan kept screaming and cursing, Zhao Xing stuffed a rag into his mouth.
Twenty minutes later, Wang Zan had more breath out than in. His ribs and collarbone were all broken. His abdomen wasn’t stabbed, but Zhao Xing had kicked it hard twice, causing worse damage than a knife wound.
Zhao Xing estimated that if he didn’t get medical attention within thirty minutes, he wouldn’t survive the night.
But Zhao Xing’s anger was still not quenched.
Every time he thought of Luo Mingshan’s injury report, the violent rage inside him surged uncontrollably. He threw Wang Zan to the ground and his gaze shifted to a fruit knife not far away.
…Should he use it?
The violent instinct stirred, anger peaked, nearly overwhelming reason.
Should he use the knife? Carve the same scars onto Wang Zan as the ones Luo Mingshan had received?
Should he… kill him?
He’s scum anyway.
Just as Zhao Xing was about to lose control, the fruit knife in his sight was suddenly grabbed tightly by a thin hand.
Zhao Xing’s thoughts were interrupted, and he shifted his attention to the boy holding the knife.
This unfamiliar boy had been curled up in the corner without moving since Zhao Xing entered. Now he picked up the fruit knife and, trembling all over, crawled toward Wang Zan.
Both hands gripped the knife tightly, raised it high, and then stabbed it straight into Wang Zan’s lower body!
He screamed shrilly, “…Die! Die! Die!”
Only after that area became a bloody mess did the boy move the blade and stab it into Wang Zan’s heart.
Now, Wang Zan was finally dead.
“Clang!”
The bloodstained knife dropped to the floor.
The surge of hatred and revenge receded, and reality and fear crept in inch by inch.
The boy looked up at Zhao Xing, his face covered in tears, his eyes filled with shock, fear, and confusion. “I… I killed someone. I killed him… I…”
He looked so desperate and terrified, as if he were watching himself sink deeper and deeper into a mire.
Zhao Xing looked at him, but his mind involuntarily conjured Luo Mingshan’s face.
…Was he, at that time, also this shocked, fearful, desperate, and pained when he killed “Fan”?
Zhao Xing’s heart tightened.
A sense of compassion rose up. Without a word, Zhao Xing reached out and patted the head of the unfamiliar boy in front of him.
But the boy, as if grasping a lifeline, threw himself into Zhao Xing’s arms and burst into loud sobs.
Zhao Xing was forced to serve as a human pillow for five minutes before he started to get annoyed.
He pushed the boy away. “Alright, stop crying. What are you going to do now?”
The boy wiped his tears, looked at Zhao Xing, and said, his voice trembling, “I… I’m going to turn myself in at the interrogation center. Mr. Zhao… will you come with me?”
Zhao Xing thought for a moment, then nodded. “Let’s go together.”
He had entered this bathroom, and Wang Zan was dead.
Whether as a witness in a murder case or as the assailant who injured Wang Zan, he had to go to the interrogation center anyway.
The two walked side by side in silence. The boy’s face grew paler and paler, his movements sluggish, his eyes vacant, as if he might faint at any moment.
Just then, Zhao Xing suddenly felt a scorching gaze fixed on him from ahead.
He shifted his focus from the boy beside him and looked forward.
On the bustling subsurface main road, amid a crowd of a dozen people who had stopped to watch the spectacle,
Luo Mingshan stood silently twenty meters away, his gaze piercing through the crowd, staring at him.
—Staring at his dirty clothes, at the boy beside him, at the bloodstains on the boy’s hands, at the bloody handprint on Zhao Xing’s waist from where the boy had tightly hugged him.
Next to Luo Mingshan was a blathering pest.
“Who are you looking at? Did you hear what I just said? I said I’m going to keep you.”
The guy seemed to be a new arrival, still carrying a suitcase, completely oblivious to the warnings in the passersby’s eyes not to seek death. He spoke smugly, “I heard everything here is bought with reform points. I’ll give you fifty a month, how’s that? Generous enough, right?”
“Fuck! You deaf? Why aren’t you reacting? Forget it, come with me. Let me have some fun first…”
The man grabbed Luo Mingshan’s arm and yanked him off balance.
The onlookers held their breath, their eyes gleaming with excitement as they alternated glances between Luo Mingshan and Zhao Xing, waiting for a big fight to break out.
It seemed everyone expected Zhao Xing to step up, knock down this arrogant and foolish “rival in love” on the spot, and stage a classic “knight saves beauty.”
Luo Mingshan said nothing. He simply looked at Zhao Xing.
At that moment, his gaze left the unfamiliar boy beside Zhao Xing, left the bloody handprint on Zhao Xing’s abdomen, and focused solely and stubbornly on Zhao Xing’s eyes.
His eyes were quiet, as if not contending, not expecting to be saved, not filled with hope.
But his left hand was clenched into a tight fist, and his eyelashes trembled slightly. His body was barely tensed, inadvertently revealing a hint of barely contained nervousness and expectation.
“Slap.”
The boy beside Zhao Xing suddenly slipped, nearly falling.
Zhao Xing reflexively caught him.
Looking down, the boy was breaking out in cold sweat, his lips pale, unconscious.
Zhao Xing exerted his arm strength, lifting the boy horizontally into a bridal carry.
Then he walked forward step by step.
He did not respond to Luo Mingshan’s stubborn gaze. In fact, he kept his eyes straight ahead as he walked, passing by indifferently with only a fleeting glance at Luo Mingshan.
For less than a second.
His expression was as cold as if he were looking at a bag of trash blocking the road.
The entire scene went silent.
Then it erupted.
Luo Mingshan’s face lost all color inch by inch.
By the time Zhao Xing had passed him and the pest beside him was impatiently pulling at him again, Luo Mingshan finally snapped out of it.
He looked down at his left hand, only to see that his palm had been cut by his own nails, bleeding.
Crimson blood trickled through his fingers, leaving crescent-shaped wounds.
After enduring the bone-deep pain of the night, Luo Mingshan no longer cared about any physical hurt.
But now, he felt a dull, long-forgotten ache.
It really, really hurt.