Chapter 3#

The moment Zhao Xing witnessed those words leave his mouth, the last flicker of light in Luo Mingshan’s eyes went out.

“Brother! It’s smart to mind your own business—a wise man!” Zhang Sheng grinned, his thick, tattooed arm draping over Luo Mingshan’s shoulder.

But Luo Mingshan no longer struggled. He stared blankly at Zhao Xing, his eyes dark and opaque, impenetrable to light, as if he had turned into a beautiful doll.

Zhang Sheng’s rough hand slid across Luo Mingshan’s arm, a lecherous laugh escaping his throat.

It was an eyesore.

Zhao Xing looked away, waving his hand impatiently. “Take it outside. Don’t disturb my sleep.”

“Of course, of course.” Zhang Sheng dragged Luo Mingshan toward the door.

Luo Mingshan seemed to snap back to reality, beginning to struggle uselessly.

He clung desperately to the doorframe, shouting in near despair, “Brother Ah Xing, Brother Ah Xing, save me—”

Zhang Sheng clamped a hand over his mouth and forcefully hauled him away.

Zhao Xing lay back down on the bed, pulled the covers over his head, and went back to sleep.

Once outside Room 1502, the expression of this beautiful, elf-like long-haired man under Zhang Sheng’s arm suddenly turned indifferent.

Even his steps carried a hint of nonchalance.

But Zhang Sheng paid no mind to such trivialities. Just thinking about the wonderful things to come made his blood boil.

Luo Mingshan had only arrived two days ago, and Zhang Sheng had been captivated at first sight. For some reason, two days ago, Zhang Sheng had felt as though this youth stood on some lofty, unreachable height—but today… it was as if he had suddenly fallen from grace.

At the thought of soon possessing this exquisite creature, Zhang Sheng’s heart pounded, and his palms grew sweaty.

Grinning blissfully, he pushed the man into a dim, unmonitored, concealed storage room at the corner of the stairwell.

Luo Mingshan lowered his head and stepped inside obediently.

Click. Luo Mingshan locked the door behind them.

A strange unease suddenly crept over Zhang Sheng.

There was no light in the storage room, but a small frosted glass panel on the door let in a faint glow from outside, casting the cramped space in dim, ambiguous shadows.

“You came too early.”

A voice cold as shards of ice rang out slowly, revealing neither joy nor anger, yet it inexplicably made one’s heart clench.

Zhang Sheng took a moment to realize that the words had come from Luo Mingshan.

In an instant, he felt both confusion and terror.

…How had Luo Mingshan suddenly changed like this?

A sense of nameless danger washed over Zhang Sheng, and he wanted to flee.

The dim light fell behind the long-haired man, outlining his figure with a faint glow. He tilted his head slightly, elegantly and composedly pulling on a pair of gloves that seemed to appear from nowhere, his expression cold, giving off the aura of an unapproachable deity.

For the first time, Zhang Sheng realized this man was not a frail youth—he was half a head taller than Zhang Sheng himself, nearly as tall as the ruthless Zhao Xing.

But because of his beautiful face and fragile demeanor, his build seemed to have been overlooked by everyone.

Now, however, that half-head advantage nearly crushed Zhang Sheng, making it hard to breathe.

Zhang Sheng couldn’t help but step back, but as soon as he did, a gloved hand seized his neck and lifted him off the ground.

The glove was strange, chilling to the bone, as if lined with metal.

Luo Mingshan spoke slowly and deliberately: “You should have come to me a few days later. I haven’t had time to build a connection with Brother Ah Xing yet, but you came looking for me. That’s why Brother Ah Xing wouldn’t save me. It’s all your fault.”

His voice was languid and cold, his fingers tightening with a hint of bloodthirsty brutality, yet his mouth muttered childish phrases like “Brother Ah Xing” and “it’s all your fault,” unreasonably pinning all the blame on Zhang Sheng. It was eerily sinister.

Zhang Sheng couldn’t utter a word, because he clearly felt—besides the crushing pressure on his neck—a strange electric current coursing into his body, making him cold, aching, and slowly sapping his strength.

His eyes widened in terror, his whole body trembling as he sank into an indescribable fear, as if meeting Death himself.

Just as Zhang Sheng’s vision went black and his heart was about to stop, Luo Mingshan suddenly paused and let go.

Zhang Sheng saw this man suddenly become cheerful, a brilliant smile spreading across his face, dazzling beyond words.

But Zhang Sheng had no mind to admire his beauty. He slid weakly to the floor, sitting there, trembling all over, his face pale.

Luo Mingshan swapped positions with him, then quickly ruffled his own hair and tugged at his collar.

Then he lightly tapped Zhang Sheng’s forehead. Instantly, a surge of vitality rushed into Zhang Sheng’s body—just as bizarre as the electric current that had nearly taken his life moments before.

Zhang Sheng even felt his face flush with life again, his strength returning.

He sensed his organs being rescued from the brink of death. Then, he heard footsteps drawing closer.

The sound of combat boots hitting the floor.

Tap, tap, tap. A rhythmic pace.

Zhang Sheng looked up and saw that Luo Mingshan, who had moments ago descended like the Grim Reaper, had already taken off those eerie electric gloves. His hair was disheveled, and he knelt quietly and fragilely on the ground, looking like he had just been subjected to humiliation.

He even rubbed his eyes, and the porcelain-white skin around his corners quickly reddened, as if he had just been crying.

Zhang Sheng: “…”

Have you no shame?

Smack!

The storage room door was kicked open. A tall, handsome young man stood silhouetted against the light. He turned on a flashlight, sweeping it across the scene, and finally fixed his gaze on Zhang Sheng, whose face was flushed with excitement but clearly still shaken.

He narrowed his eyes, his expression filled with irritation and impatience.

It was Zhao Xing.

Zhao Xing hadn’t originally planned to come.

It wasn’t like he was a masochist—why would he bother to save Luo Mingshan?

Luo Mingshan had once ruined him, and now he was being dragged off helplessly to be violated.

It was utterly satisfying.

But as Zhao Xing lay in bed, even with the covers over his head, he could still seem to hear Luo Mingshan’s cries. When he closed his eyes, he could still see Luo Mingshan’s tear-streaked face.

In a hazy daze, he found himself thinking of things long, long ago.

Little Luo Luo had always been beautiful since childhood—carved like jade, with fair skin, big eyes, and soft hair a bit too long. At first glance, you couldn’t tell if he was a boy or a girl, cuter than any doll in a movie, and very endearing.

Once, Zhao Xing took him on an “adventure” and accidentally ran into a degenerate pedophile in the male prisoners’ area.

While Zhao Xing was squatting on the ground playing with mud, Luo Mingshan had accepted a piece of candy from that sleazy man and shouted loudly to Zhao Xing, “Brother Ah Xing, this uncle says there’s a lot more candy in the little house over there. Let’s go eat it together, okay?”

That male prisoner then noticed Zhao Xing.

Young Zhao Xing had a buzz cut, was covered in mud, looked dirty and mischievous, with a frown and eyes as wary as a little wolf’s—far less clean and cute than Luo Mingshan.

Although the prisoner had no interest in him, he still forced a smile and said, “Sure, you come too, little buddy. Let’s go get the candy together.”

Only later did Zhao Xing learn that this man had been imprisoned for child molestation.

But even though he didn’t understand anything at the time, he knew they couldn’t go with him.

Because his mother, Lan Yan, had said countless times—

“Everyone locked up in this prison is trash, garbage. Not one of them is good. Not one can be trusted.”

And that man’s smile was lecherous, especially when he smiled at Luo Mingshan.

Especially disgusting.

So Zhao Xing walked over and pulled Luo Mingshan. “Luo Luo, come with Brother. Time to go back.”

Of course, the man didn’t want to let them go.

How did they finally escape?

Seven-year-old Zhao Xing had bitten down hard on that pervert’s arm, gotten slapped away, then charged over and over again, gritting his teeth, bleeding, shouting “Fire! Fire!” until they managed to flee with Luo Mingshan in the chaos.

Only after they reached safety did Luo Mingshan seem to come to his senses. Tears streamed down his face as he clung to Zhao Xing, sobbing, “Brother Ah Xing, don’t die, Brother Ah Xing, don’t die…”

Zhao Xing winced in pain but still had to soothe him, wiping his tears with his bloody hand and whispering, “Brother won’t die. Brother is going to protect Luo Luo!”

…

Twelve years had passed.

Twelve years ago, he had risked his life to protect Luo Mingshan.

Twelve years later, he watched with his own eyes as Luo Mingshan was dragged away crying and screaming.

…Damn it.

Zhao Xing opened his eyes.

A surge of anger, irritation, and unwillingness filled his heart. He sat up in bed and kicked over the stool beside him.

His face dark, he left the dorm.

Zhao Xing thought—

It’s not that I’m a masochist. It’s not that I want to save him.

It’s mainly because this whole thing is just too damn disgusting.

If Luo Mingshan had been dragged off to get beaten up instead of… that kind of thing, I definitely wouldn’t have gotten involved. I would have stood by and applauded.

And… if I don’t step in now, then wasn’t me getting beaten up twelve years ago all for nothing?

Damn it. What’s wrong with Luo Mingshan? Why does he attract so many perverts?

Zhao Xing coldly watched Luo Mingshan huddled in the corner of the storage room.

His clothes were disheveled, he was kneeling on the ground, looking up at Zhao Xing with shimmering tears in his eyes.

The bandage on his forehead was already soaked through with blood, and a drop of crimson trickled down, hanging at the corner of his eye like a bloody tear, adding a touch of allure to his snow-like face.

Despair and hope mingled together on that exquisite face, as perfect as a work of art, like a pure white rose rooted in mud and bloodstains yet born untouched by filth.

Absolutely… breathtakingly beautiful.

Zhao Xing narrowed his eyes.

The earlier anger and irritation slowly twisted into a strange emotion.

Why isn’t he crying?

Those tears shimmering in his eyes just aren’t enough.

If he really started crying, wouldn’t that be even more beautiful?

When he realized what he was thinking, Zhao Xing froze.

Then, the corners of his mouth slowly curled up.

He admitted he had changed.

Once, if he saw Luo Mingshan cry, he couldn’t help wanting to wipe away his tears.

Now, seeing Luo Mingshan’s tearful eyes, he couldn’t help wanting to make him cry even harder.

Good.

He wasn’t soft-hearted, nor a masochist, and he certainly wasn’t foolish enough to forgive what Luo Mingshan had done.

It’s just that rather than watching Luo Mingshan be bullied by others, he seemed to prefer making him cry himself.

Zhao Xing accepted this change openly.

Maybe he was just a bit more twisted. What’s wrong with that?

After all, Zhao Xing had accepted since he was eight years old that he was a bad kid.

Zhang Sheng also noticed Zhao Xing, but before he could utter a single word, Zhao Xing struck him on the back of the head with the flashlight, knocking him out cold.

There were no cameras here, and no AI monitoring his actions to deduct points, so Zhao Xing didn’t bother to be discreet.

After knocking the man out, he kicked him into the corner.

Then, slowly, step by step, Zhao Xing approached Luo Mingshan and crouched down on one knee.

He used the flashlight to tilt up Luo Mingshan’s chin, his slightly rough fingers wiping away the tears on his face. “Scared?”

“Sc-scared.”

Zhao Xing: “Were you messed with?”

Luo Mingshan nodded, then shook his head, whispering, “Luckily, Brother came to save me.”

Zhao Xing let out a laugh.

“Save you? Do you think I came to save you?”

He withdrew the flashlight, his right hand gripping Luo Mingshan’s chin with moderate pressure. He leaned in, bringing his mouth close to Luo Mingshan’s ear, his voice low and laced with a hint of malicious amusement—

“Brother came here to bully you himself.”