Chapter 7#
Chapter 7#
The commotion he caused was so loud that even the robot teacher stopped the lesson. Once again, the entire class turned their gazes onto Zhao Xing.
Several classmates wore complicated expressions—some meaningful, some envious or resentful, some suddenly enlightened, pointing and whispering, and even a slender, effeminate guy covering his mouth with a snicker.
Zhao Xing suspected they were all reacting like this because they’d seen that idiot Luo Mingshan “blow on it” and “kiss it” for him!
Fuck.
Zhao Xing kicked the desk, abandoned his intention to attend class, and turned to leave.
Luo Mingshan scrambled to follow.
The electronic card beeped twice—likely both of them got deducted 0.5 points for leaving early. But Zhao Xing was too agitated to hear anything clearly.
Once out of the classroom, Zhao Xing climbed the stairs while cursing nonstop: “Luo Mingshan, are you mentally challenged? Are you an idiot?! Is your head full of water?
“Did you ever get checked? Did the tests say something’s wrong with your brain?!
“Is your cerebellum undeveloped or what?!
“Are you really that dumb, or are you fucking pretending? I’ve never seen a seventeen-year-old this brain-dead!
“Are you deliberately messing with me? Doing something like that in front of everyone—are you trying to embarrass me?! I don’t believe anyone could actually be this stupid! You’re acting, aren’t you?!”
Zhao Xing ranted the whole way, from the classroom to the school gate. Luo Mingshan hung his head, furrowed his brows, and said nothing, his expression even a little serious.
Zhao Xing’s throat went dry from all the yelling, and only then did he realize the person beside him had been quiet for a long time.
He turned to look at Luo Mingshan. He’d assumed the guy had already realized he’d done something stupid and was deeply regretting it, ashamed and mortified. But when Zhao Xing looked closely, he saw that Luo Mingshan was simply looking down, lips pressed together, with an open and honest expression.
As if Zhao Xing was just making a fuss, overreacting, shouting, and being unreasonable.
Zhao Xing suddenly felt annoyed.
He squinted, extended his index finger, and jabbed it hard into Luo Mingshan’s forehead, making him stagger backward a step.
Luo Mingshan looked at Zhao Xing, blinked, and spoke slowly: “But you told me that’s what everyone does.”
Zhao Xing: “…”
Fine.
This was indeed something Zhao Xing had started. Since childhood, he’d been afraid of pain and got hurt often. Once, he happened to see other mothers blowing on their kids’ wounds while applying medicine, and he took note, wanting someone to blow on his wounds too.
But that was just too embarrassing—even a five-year-old Zhao Xing found it shameful. He couldn’t bring himself to ask his mom, so he tricked Luo Mingshan, who was only three at the time, into blowing on his wounds.
And he told him that everyone in the world did it that way, that it had to be strictly followed, because it was a very important procedure—as essential as closing your eyes when you sleep.
…As for the kissing, that was purely Zhao Xing adding in his own private agenda.
When Luo Mingshan was little, he was soft and fair, obedient and well-behaved. Zhao Xing loved kissing him and loved being kissed by him.
Zhao Xing looked at Luo Mingshan and suddenly felt a strange sensation.
As if everyone in the world had been pushed forward by time, and only Luo Mingshan remained where he was, never growing up.
Zhao Xing suddenly thought of something, squinted, and his voice grew colder: “Wait. Do you apply medicine for other people the same way?”
Luo Mingshan shook his head: “I’ve only applied medicine for you.”
Zhao Xing let out a breath of relief.
He walked forward a couple of steps, lowered his eyes, and his tone turned indifferent again: “Don’t do that anymore. That kind of thing is childish. Only kids do it.”
“But you once said—”
“And besides,” Zhao Xing interrupted, looking into Luo Mingshan’s eyes, the corners of his mouth lifting as a sneer of contempt gradually spread across his face, “Do you really think we’re still the same as before?”
Luo Mingshan stopped in place, his lips twitching but no words coming out. He slowly lowered his head.
He stood there without a word, his face gradually losing color, turning deathly pale.
Like a faded old painting abandoned by its owner.
.
The cafeteria here was located between the academy and the factory, with three levels: Basement 1, Basement 2, and Basement 3. The food got more expensive with each floor.
Zhao Xing wandered to the cheapest floor, Basement 1.
Sure enough, after more than a decade, the menu hadn’t changed at all.
The prices here ranged from 0.1 to 0.3 repentance points. The cheapest was nutrient solution at 0.1, followed by mashed potatoes and mashed sweet potatoes at 0.2, and rice at 0.1.
Zhao Xing bought a bowl of rice and a portion of mashed potatoes.
As expected, it was sticky and gooey, disgustingly bad.
Zhao Xing hadn’t eaten stuff like this in years.
Luo Mingshan got the same things and quietly ate beside him.
.
The cafeteria was huge; all male inmates from Buildings 1 to 10 ate here. Although Zhao Xing had already started making a name for himself, he’d only been here a day, so many people still didn’t recognize him. Unlike during his school days, he wasn’t being avoided like the plague.
On the other hand, Luo Mingshan, with his elfin beauty, attracted countless stares and covetous glances. Soon, the tables around them were full of people.
But because Zhao Xing, sitting next to Luo Mingshan, looked very much like someone not to be trifled with, no one dared to harass them verbally for the time being.
Zhao Xing was halfway through his meal when a commotion broke out at the cafeteria entrance.
Zhao Xing bit his chopsticks and looked up.
He saw the crowded sea of people part like waves, making way spontaneously.
In the middle of the path stood a tall man, about thirty years old, with hair cut very short—almost to the scalp—and a rare wheat-colored complexion. His muscles were well-developed.
Behind him followed about seven or eight lackeys.
He looked impressive, like a mob boss from an old movie.
Damn, I envy that.
He’s definitely gonna make it into the “101.”
Zhao Xing thought sourly.
As Zhao Xing watched that “boss,” he continued pondering: maybe he’d taken the wrong approach. Fighting alone lacked flair. Should he gather a bunch of underlings like before?
But what if he ended up with another bunch of idiots?
Before he could figure it out, Zhao Xing saw the “boss” walk straight toward him.
Then the “boss” drove away the others at the table and sat down dominantly across from Luo Mingshan.
He stared fixedly at Luo Mingshan’s face and spoke in a low voice: “I’m Su Ge. What’s your name?”
Zhao Xing: “…”
Zhao Xing threw down his chopsticks and let out a laugh of disbelief.
He turned to look at Luo Mingshan, couldn’t help pinching his cheek, and said with a smile, “Fuck, Luo Luo baby, you really know how to cause trouble for your Brother Zhao. Maybe I should just slash your face—why do you attract so many people?!”
Luo Mingshan shuddered.
Only then did Su Ge notice Zhao Xing beside Luo Mingshan. He frowned a little in displeasure and ordered his subordinates, “Drag him away.”
Zhao Xing laughed again.
Damn, this guy’s arrogant.
Zhao Xing hadn’t seen anyone more arrogant than himself in a long time.
The two tall men sitting on Su Ge’s left and right stood up with a rumble.
“Smack!”
A gleaming, razor-sharp dagger was thrown without warning onto the wooden table, embedding five or six centimeters deep like cutting into tofu.
The air instantly went still.
Zhao Xing casually pulled the thrown knife back, twirling it dexterously between his fingers. He looked at Su Ge and smiled lazily, “Who dares to touch him?”
Su Ge made a gesture, and his two subordinates stayed where they were.
He looked at the overly young man before him—clearly no more than twenty—with some surprise.
Knives weren’t prohibited here.
But one rule was crystal clear: if you carried a weapon and engaged in physical conflict, regardless of whether blood was drawn, you’d be docked at least 50 points.
That meant either this guy had plenty of repentance points and was confident he could get away unscathed, or he was a crazy bastard who didn’t care about his life.
Either way, this guy was obviously not someone to mess with.
Su Ge moved his gaze from the knife in Zhao Xing’s hand to his face. “Little brother, it’s not worth impulsively sending yourself to the repentance room for electrocution. How about we talk?”
Zhao Xing leaned back in his chair, toying with the knife, and said nonchalantly, “Sure, go ahead.”
Su Ge glanced at Luo Mingshan again, but this time his gaze didn’t linger.
He asked, “The person next to you… is he your lover or your kept man?”
Zhao Xing was so startled he nearly dropped his knife.
He said helplessly, “Uncle, do I really look like a gay guy?”
At only thirty and being called “uncle,” Su Ge’s expression soured, but he kept his composure. “Then he is…”
“Oh, he’s my little slave. He fetches me tea, pours water, cheers me up, and keeps me entertained.” Zhao Xing rubbed the back of Luo Mingshan’s head and said with a grin, “Isn’t that right, Luo Luo?”
Luo Mingshan hesitated, then nodded cautiously.
Su Ge let out a sigh of relief, smiled with ease, and relaxed his posture. “How about this: let him go to me, and I’ll give you something in return.”
Zhao Xing asked with great interest, “What can you give me?”
The smile on Su Ge’s face grew more pronounced. “That depends on what you want.”
He leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice to a calm, deep murmur: “Cigarettes, fine wine, jewels, women…”
Zhao Xing raised an eyebrow, a little surprised. “Women? How would you manage that? Are there any here?”
Luo Mingshan’s brow furrowed slightly.
“Hahaha, little brother, you sure like to joke. There aren’t any women here, but once you get out, I guarantee I’ll set you up—”
“Forget it,” Zhao Xing cut him off with a pout. “Who knows what’ll happen later?”
Su Ge sat up straight and said in a clearer voice, “Then I’ll give you something most useful. How about 100 repentance points?”
A few sharp intakes of breath and murmurs arose around them.
A hundred repentance points—that was a million dollars worth. An inmate working every day without breaking any rules, eating the cheapest food, and incurring no extra expenses would need nearly a year to save that much.
Even Zhao Xing was a little surprised.
That’s a generous offer.
Very tempting.
Zhao Xing silently calculated in his mind.
Seeing Zhao Xing’s eyes light up, Luo Mingshan’s heart sank.
After roughly calculating, Zhao Xing’s expression became cheerful. He turned around, cupped Luo Mingshan’s cheeks in both hands, and exclaimed with delight, “Luo Luo, you’re so valuable! I thought you’d sell for 20, but you can sell for 100!”
Luo Mingshan’s cheeks were as pale as snow. He looked at Zhao Xing in disbelief, his lashes trembling gently, the corners of his eyes instantly reddening and moist—beautiful like a mermaid broken and desperate to tears.
“Luo Luo looks so beautiful when he cries,” Zhao Xing murmured, gently wiping the tears from the corners of his eyes with his thumb.
Zhao Xing turned to Su Ge. “Beautiful, isn’t he?”
Su Ge’s Adam’s apple bobbed, and his voice was low and husky. “Beautiful.”
Zhao Xing smiled. “Gotta pay more.”
Su Ge: “…”
Su Ge took a deep breath, pulling his gaze away from Luo Mingshan’s face. “How much do you want?”
Zhao Xing: “Three hundred.”
Su Ge’s tone turned heavy. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll just snatch him away, asking such a sky-high price?”
Zhao Xing stroked Luo Mingshan’s head as he looked at Su Ge. “Snatching—how crude. If you give me the right price, I promise Luo Luo will serve you well. Isn’t that right, Luo Luo?”
Luo Mingshan hung his head and said nothing.
Su Ge silently weighed it in his mind. Though this guy claimed he wasn’t gay and had no interest whatsoever in the beauty beside him… that beauty was another story. He clearly still had feelings for this scumbag straight guy.
If he could buy him from this guy, he might even cut off the beauty’s hopes.
Besides, three hundred thousand for such a stunning beauty—honestly, it wasn’t a bad deal.
He hadn’t expected to find top-tier goods like this in such a small prison. Even the A-list celebrities he’d seen before paled in comparison.
Su Ge made his decision. “Deal.”
Zhao Xing pulled out his electronic card, his face full of anticipation. “Let’s do it.”
Su Ge also took out his card, but didn’t make the next move. Instead, he stared fixedly at the beauty.
“Oh, got it.” Zhao Xing patted Luo Mingshan on the back. “Get lost. Don’t follow me anymore. Go with Brother Su from now on.”
Luo Mingshan hung his head, motionless as a statue.
Zhao Xing kicked his stool impatiently. “Get lost!”
Luo Mingshan still didn’t move.
Zhao Xing gave a derisive snort. “Luo Mingshan, didn’t you go on and on about how sorry you were? Now’s your chance to atone.”
Luo Mingshan slowly raised his head. His face was pale, making his eyes look like pitch-black abysses. He asked in a sluggish voice, “…If I do this, will Brother Xing forgive me?”
Zhao Xing suddenly felt a little uneasy looking into his eyes. He averted his gaze and looked around. “Maybe.”
Luo Mingshan was silent for two seconds. Then, slowly, like a puppet, he stood up and walked toward Su Ge.
Zhao Xing shook his card impatiently. “Hurry up, hurry up!”
Su Ge made some operations on his electronic card and transferred 300 repentance points to Zhao Xing.
Zhao Xing put the card in his pocket with satisfaction and stood up. “Thanks.”
He took a couple of steps forward, then seemed to remember something. He turned back, walked up to Luo Mingshan, and said, “Luo Luo, bye-bye. Remember to serve Brother Su well. Don’t let him waste his money.”
Luo Mingshan hung his head without speaking.
Zhao Xing frowned a little, dissatisfied. “Luo Luo, say goodbye to me.”
Only then did Luo Mingshan lift his head. Expressionless, he raised his hand stiffly and waved it in a small motion. “…Goodbye.”
Zhao Xing smiled and waved back. “Luo Luo, bye-bye.”
The moment Zhao Xing’s left hand dropped, his expression suddenly changed.
He grabbed Luo Mingshan’s wrist, whipped out the dagger from his pocket, and hurled it at Su Ge’s thigh. Then he grabbed the man and ran!
Su Ge was stunned for a moment before reacting. Clutching his bleeding thigh, he roared like a madman, “Stop them!”
One subordinate hurriedly dealt with Su Ge’s wound, while the other six all charged after Zhao Xing. Seeing that he couldn’t outrun them, Zhao Xing pushed Luo Mingshan to the periphery and turned to grapple with the six men.
Fortunately, everyone knew Luo Mingshan was their boss’s target, so none of them touched him.
Soon, Su Ge and the onlookers were horrified to discover: this Zhao Xing was inhuman.
Facing six professional thugs, he not only held his own but clearly had the upper hand.
Zhao Xing’s moves were clean and decisive. Within moments, two of the six had fallen.
In other respects, Zhao Xing was quite confident in his hand-to-hand combat skills.
He’d been unbeatable among his peers since childhood, and from the age of ten, he’d hired professionals to teach him taekwondo and kickboxing.
At seventeen, he’d even spent some time in the underground boxing ring of City C.
By the time he was eighteen, there was no one left in that small City C ring who could beat him.
In fact, from the age of eighteen, Zhao Xing had never lost a fight.
Seeing the six thugs fall one by one, Su Ge was so furious his veins bulged. He strode toward them step by step.
But instead of going after Zhao Xing, he grabbed the bloodstained dagger and, with a sinister glare, went for Luo Mingshan.
Zhao Xing’s heart leaped. He quickly finished off the last man, then turned and kicked the dagger out of Su Ge’s hand, pulling Luo Mingshan over to him.
Just then, the seventh thug, who hadn’t joined the brawl earlier, picked up a stool and swung it at Luo Mingshan’s head.
Fuck!
Zhao Xing’s mind went blank. He pulled Luo Mingshan tightly into his arms and hunched over.
“Bang!” The solid wooden stool smashed into Zhao Xing’s shoulder and head. Splinters of wood lodged into his neck, and blood dripped down.
His head hit, Zhao Xing felt dazed.
At that moment, someone behind him viciously kicked the back of his knee. Zhao Xing staggered, unable to stay upright, and collapsed.
As he fell, darkness swam before his eyes, his head spun, but he still instinctively reached out a hand to protect the back of Luo Mingshan’s head.
Seeing the two lying on the ground, temporarily powerless to resist, Su Ge sneered. Holding his still-bleeding thigh, he picked up the dagger from the floor and limped toward them.
When he reached Zhao Xing, he knelt down, raised the dagger with a vicious expression, and drove it down toward the back of Zhao Xing’s neck!
“Snap!” His wrist was suddenly caught by a hand as fair as jade.
Then he saw the stunning face that had so captivated him emerge from over Zhao Xing’s shoulder.
That snow-white face was dotted with a few drops of blood, but all traces of fragility and despair were gone. A pair of pitch-black eyes were as cold and sharp as knives, sending a bone-chilling dread through him.
Almost at the same moment, Su Ge felt an excruciating pain in the wrist that was caught. A strange force seeped in, making his teeth chatter and his bones ache. His mind grew hazy, as if something was devouring his soul.
But all of this happened within two seconds.
After two seconds, the beautiful, cold man pushed him away with a very light force.
Su Ge felt a surge of relief, and the fear dissipated. He smiled contentedly—
But the next instant, his pupils contracted. An extreme agony overwhelmed him. He trembled violently, collapsed to the ground, and gradually stopped breathing.
“Someone’s dead——”
Someone shrieked in terror.