Chapter 152: Too Pale, Like a Porcelain Doll
“You bastard! You filthy pervert!” Nan Xun hurriedly covered his backside.
The man let out a low chuckle. “Kid, are you getting shy? Don’t tell me you’re still in that school-age phase where you like comparing sizes with others? Did I make you lose face?”
Only then did Nan Xun remember that he was a man—and so was the other guy. Everyone had the same equipment. There was nothing to be embarrassed about.
“I’m not shy. You just got my pants wet. What am I supposed to wear later?” Nan Xun snapped.
The man raised a brow. “Didn’t bring a change of prison clothes?”
Nan Xun: “I was in a hurry. Forgot.”
“All right, you poor little thing. I’ll lend you the dirty clothes I take off later. Remember to wash them clean and return them tomorrow.”
Nan Xun: …
“Do you know my name? Don’t go knocking on the wrong door when you come to return them.”
Nan Xun ground his teeth and squeezed out through clenched jaws, “I know. Yan Luo, Cell 419.”
Yan Luo grabbed him and hauled him up from the floor. Seeing him still covering himself, he couldn’t help letting out a soft laugh. “Kid, stand over here.”
Nan Xun relaxed and boldly let him see.
It wasn’t like he didn’t have one.
“Hands up,” the man said.
Hearing that, Nan Xun rolled his eyes inwardly. Was he being told to surrender? How childish.
He obediently raised his hands. He admitted he really couldn’t beat this guy—just from those one or two moves, it was obvious.
Yan Luo shot him a sideways glance. “What nonsense are you thinking, kid?” As he spoke, he grabbed the hem of Nan Xun’s clothes and flipped it up, stripping off his prison uniform as well.
Nan Xun shivered.
“Clearly raised pampered. Look at this skin—like white porcelain. Not a bit of muscle on you.” Yan Luo looked him up and down, his gaze unrestrained.
Nan Xun bristled. “What’s so great about you? So what if you’ve got eight-pack abs? You’re that dark—do you think you’ve got a reason to brag?”
Yan Luo let out a chuckle. “Feisty little kid. Come, I’ll wash you.”
As he spoke, he slapped a hand around the back of Nan Xun’s head and yanked him over.
The showerhead was still running. Nan Xun stumbled, and before he could steady himself, he was drenched like a soaked rat.
With a loud smack, the man patted his back and even added a comment. “This skin of yours is really something. If we cut it off and made human-meat buns, they’d probably taste pretty good.”
Nan Xun froze.
Yan Luo laughed twice. “Just kidding. Your build’s not as good as mine, but it’s decent—wide waist, perky butt. You’re just a bit too pale, like a porcelain doll.”
Nan Xun silently recited calming mantras several times. He was afraid that if his temper flared, he’d forget everything and throw a punch.
“Brother, are you giving me the place to shower? Thanks, really. They all said you were scary—I didn’t expect you to be such a nice person,” Nan Xun started laying on the flattery.
Hearing this, Yan Luo’s sword-like brows lifted slightly, and he asked with interest, “Oh? They say I’m scary? How so?”
Nan Xun immediately embellished it. “They said you’ve got incredible strength—you could carry five guys like me. They said you kill without blinking, a total madman. That Scarface guy—back then you kicked him into a dead-pig state, then grabbed him and smashed him into the wall. His head split like a watermelon, painting an entire wall red… But I think they’re exaggerating. If you really beat Scarface like that, how could he still be alive now?”
Yan Luo listened seriously. The instant Nan Xun finished, he let out a light laugh and suddenly leaned down close to him.
The suddenly enlarged handsome face startled Nan Xun into jerking his head back. He nearly toppled over.
“If what they said were all true, would you be afraid?” Yan Luo teased, then straightened up again.
The pressure vanished, and Nan Xun could finally breathe. “I wouldn’t be afraid.”
Yan Luo curled his lips again. “But they weren’t wrong. Back then, Scarface really did get his skull cracked open by me, left with just one last breath.” He paused. “You want to ask why Scarface is still alive now, don’t you?”
Nan Xun looked at him as he lazily explained, “That’s because… I let him live. All the messy crap in this prison—I don’t want to deal with it.”
Any place needs an accepted set of rules. Without them, everything turns into chaos. The rules Scarface set might not have been good, but at least they kept A Block in a kind of balance.
Yan Luo was a lazy man—too lazy to break the existing order and rebuild it.
Nan Xun pressed his lips together and insisted, “I trust my instincts. You’re not someone as bottomless and evil as Scarface.”
Hearing the kid evaluate him so earnestly, Yan Luo couldn’t help looking him over again.
Eighteen or nineteen—about the same age as the girl back home. That was the age when personalities were at their most flamboyant. His gaze was clear and clean, like a pair of stars washed in water. The longer you looked, the more you felt like prying those eyes out and collecting them.
He was quite good-looking—nose where it should be, eyes where they should be. His lips had a healthy color. His features were still a little youthful now, but once he grew into them, who knew how many little girls he’d captivate.
This kid was definitely the type girls liked. If he stood next to him, that little girl at home would surely pick this kid over him.
The man’s sharp eyes swept over Nan Xun’s face like searchlights. Then he suddenly laughed softly. “You’re a really interesting kid.”
Nan Xun: Kid my ass.
Unhurried, Yan Luo wrung out a towel, wrapped it around his waist, and tossed him a casual line. “Ten minutes to rinse off properly. Then come out and massage my back.”
With that, he strolled out leisurely.
Damn it—he’d managed to turn a communal boiler-room bathhouse into a VIP hotel bathroom!
The moment Nan Xun heard “ten minutes,” he rushed out ahead of him, grabbed his washbasin at lightning speed, and dashed back in.
Seeing his clumsy haste, Yan Luo’s eyes held a hint of amusement as he kindly reminded him, “Kid, remember—don’t go over time. I really hate people who aren’t punctual.”
Nan Xun slipped and nearly fell flat on his butt.
Nan Xun didn’t have a luxury item like a watch. He showered and soaped up at the fastest speed of his life, then bolted out just as fast.
“Brother, brother, I didn’t go over time, right?” Nan Xun panted.
Yan Luo was already sprawled on the bed like a lord. His body stretched out—long, straight legs and a taut, muscular waist that made Nan Xun feel inferior.
The man lazily lifted his head and tossed him a set of dirty prison clothes that had been tucked under his stomach. “Put these on. Don’t catch a cold.”
Nan Xun reached out and took them. They didn’t look that dirty.
But when he lifted them to his nose and took a sniff, his brows immediately knitted in disgust.
Damn—while it wasn’t the sharp, soul-killing stench of sweat, it was definitely a smell overflowing with thick masculine scent.
