Chapter 147: A Temporary Halt — The Man on the Fourth Floor
Scarface was clearly pleased and burst out laughing. “Alright then. I’ll let out some more later. For the rest of the ceremony, you go first. Let that cute little brother behind you watch and learn, so he doesn’t act out of line later.”
As he spoke, Scarface spread his legs. A dozen or twenty men lined up behind him, copying his stance one by one.
Nan Xun parted her lips slightly—uh… this is…?
The newcomer obediently dropped to the ground and began crawling, using both hands and feet, drilling his way through the “caves.”
Every time he crawled through one cave, the man being passed spat on him.
By the time he’d crawled through all a dozen or twenty, his prison uniform was completely ruined, no longer fit to be seen.
Nan Xun frowned hard at the sight.
But that still wasn’t the end. Scarface swept his gaze over the men behind him. “Any of you interested?”
The crowd shook their heads in unison. One of them said, “Brother Dao, this one’s too ugly. Can’t bring myself to do it.”
As he spoke, he grinned lewdly toward Nan Xun’s direction and couldn’t help swallowing.
Scarface shot him a glare. “Look at the lack of backbone on you. But this kid really is a hundred times better-looking than our A Block prison flower. Tsk, he’s a real prize. Let me be clear—until I get tired of playing with him, none of you are allowed to touch him. Otherwise, don’t blame me for not caring about brotherhood.”
A trace of unwillingness flashed through the man’s eyes, but he could only bow and nod. “Whatever you say, Brother Dao.”
Scarface’s gaze shifted and settled on Nan Xun.
Su Mobai had always liked sports. Though he didn’t have bulging muscles, his body was solid and well-built. At 1.78 meters tall, he was slender, with long, straight legs. His face was handsome and refined. Messy bangs fell lazily over his forehead but didn’t hide those clean, bright eyes. His nose was sharply defined, his lips faintly pink.
A person like this was truly a rare prize—especially to those with certain… special tastes.
Scarface, in a rare moment of mercy, said, “Forget it. I’ll be kind to you. I’ll waive the first step. Come on—crawl through the caves, and from then on, you’ll be mine.”
The spectators clicked their tongues in amazement.
How rare. The vicious, ruthless, vengeful Scarface was actually showing mercy.
Why hadn’t they been born with a good-looking face back then?
From the second floor, Du Pan hurriedly whispered a reminder, “Sixth Brother, hurry up and crawl! If you wait any longer, Brother Dao might change his mind!”
Nan Xun suddenly let out a laugh.
When this big boy smiled, it was truly captivating—lips curving up, dark eyes smiling, bright and watery.
He strolled leisurely toward the row of “caves” prepared for him, narrowed his eyes slightly, and looked straight at Scarface.
The crowd began to jeer. “Crawl! Crawl! Hurry up and crawl, kid! Hahaha…”
Just as the noise reached its peak, the jeering abruptly died down, until the surroundings were utterly silent.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
The sound of shoes hitting the floor—steady, rhythmic.
They were just ordinary prison shoes, yet somehow, on this person’s feet, they carried the aura of custom-made luxury leather shoes.
Everyone held their breath, daring not make a sound, then secretly lifted their eyes to glance at the man walking along the fourth-floor corridor.
Even Scarface and his men didn’t dare utter a peep. They stood respectfully, waiting for the man to pass.
Nan Xun couldn’t help looking up as well. All he could see was the man’s back.
He walked unhurriedly along the fourth-floor corridor. The people gathered there instinctively moved away from him. If the floor hadn’t been so high, Nan Xun might have suspected they’d jump straight down to avoid him.
The man had his hands tucked into his pockets. As he passed behind the crowd, his long, straight legs took large strides with ease, yet his pace remained unhurried, relaxed and carefree.
If this weren’t the A Block prison cell area, Nan Xun might have thought he was a model walking a runway. He couldn’t see his face, but just from his back, his physique was undeniably excellent.
Because his sleeves were rolled up slightly, one hand in his pocket revealed part of his forearm. His skin was a light bronze, the muscles even and firm, lines smooth and attractive. Faint blue veins bulged subtly along his lower arm.
Everyone was watching him, but only by sneaking glances, scared stiff. Nan Xun didn’t really understand the hierarchy here, so he stared openly at the back of his head.
In a flash, the man turned his face slightly, and one sharp eye met Nan Xun’s.
It was just a brief clash of gazes. He then looked away and quickly entered a room.
From his eyes, Nan Xun read a detached indifference, as if none of this concerned him at all. Then he glanced in the direction of the room he’d entered.
Oh—it was the restroom.
What a weirdo. It was just a trip to the bathroom. He’d thought he was heading off to do something important.
Yet everyone else clearly thought it was something important. They remained frozen in place, barely daring to breathe, and the welcome ceremony was temporarily suspended.
The air fell suddenly quiet. People exchanged glances, their expressions easing slightly, until the sound of rushing water came from the restroom—at which point everyone’s nerves snapped taut again.
Soon after, those tapping footsteps sounded once more.
This time, the man was walking toward Nan Xun’s direction. At last, Nan Xun got a clear look at his face—though only in profile, due to the angle.
Sharp brows, a straight, prominent nose, thin lips, and a slightly lifted chin—an air of supreme arrogance, as if he alone ruled the world.
Suddenly, he stopped midway, turned his face slightly in this direction, and the thin lips curved faintly upward as he spoke in a calm, flat tone: “Do as you please.”
The voice was deep and powerful, carrying an innate, kingly authority that compelled obedience without effort.
Only after the man had completely disappeared down the corridor did everyone finally let out a collective breath.
From everyone’s reaction, Nan Xun drew a conclusion: this man was incredibly formidable—someone with serious backing.
People who’d been shouting so brazenly just moments ago had gone silent at his appearance, like mice before a cat. Even the hulking Scarface, though he tried hard to keep his composure, couldn’t hide the fear in his eyes—a fear that ran deep into his bones.
He was afraid of this man.
Not just him—everyone was.
“Brother Dao, it looked like Yan Luo just told us to continue,” one of Scarface’s lackeys said quietly, breaking the oppressive silence.
Scarface snapped back to his senses and laughed smugly. “Looks like you really did catch Yan Luo’s attention. Normally he wouldn’t waste a single word, but just now he actually told us to do as we pleased!”
Nan Xun’s expression shifted slightly.
Yan Luo (King Yan Luo)?
Could this be the man Zhao Team Leader had told her to get close to—Yan Luo?
He’d imagined someone as big and brutish as Scarface. Who would’ve thought…
This was completely different from what he’d imagined. Completely.
But when had he ever offended this man?
Nan Xun suddenly shuddered, recalling what had happened earlier in the cafeteria.
No way. All he’d done was sit on the chair behind him without even touching him, and he’d already taken offense?
