Chapter 156: Being Praised — Not Bad at All
Early the next morning, Nan Xun was jolted awake by the ear-splitting ringing echoing down the corridor.
“What the hell—why is there a school bell here?” he muttered groggily as he sat up, two little tufts of bedhead sticking up on top of his head.
The others covered their ears and went on sleeping. Third Brother cursed under his breath and explained, “That’s the morning run bell. After it rings three times, you gather in the first-floor lobby, then go run laps on the field. But it’s voluntary—most people don’t bother.”
Nan Xun felt a bit more awake and couldn’t help asking, “It’s voluntary?”
“Five kilometers every morning, for a whole week, just to earn five points. Only an idiot would go,” Du Pan muttered, rolling over and going back to sleep.
When Nan Xun first arrived, a guard had mentioned it: the prison used a point system. The better your behavior, the more points you earned, and sentences could be reduced based on points—ten points for one day off. Accumulate 3,650 points, and you could shave off a full year.
As the second bell rang, Fourth and Fifth Brother struggled out of bed, bleary-eyed, pulling on their clothes before shuffling out like zombies.
Among the six of them, Second, Fourth, and Fifth Brother had the shortest sentences. But Second Brother was a sleep fiend—he’d rather sleep himself to death than chase points worth less than loose change. Fourth and Fifth Brother, on the other hand, were hoping to get out early and wouldn’t miss any chance to earn points.
Nan Xun thought for a moment, then put on his prison uniform and climbed down.
Third Brother squinted sleepily at his brisk movements and exclaimed, “Xiao Liu, why are you joining the fun? You’ve got life—are you really going to bother earning these points?”
Nan Xun flashed him a grin as bright as the sun, practically glowing. “Even a life sentence can turn into a fixed term with good behavior. And once it’s fixed, it can be reduced. Who knows—maybe I’ll get out before all of you.”
After serving up that bowl of chicken soup, Nan Xun trotted off.
Third Brother shot upright in bed, slapped his own face twice. Xiao Liu had been sentenced to life and still hadn’t given up hope—so why was he, with just twenty years, being so defeatist?
He quickly threw on his clothes and followed.
Boss Tie glanced at him and cursed him as a lunatic.
When they reached the first-floor lobby, Nan Xun saw over a hundred people already lined up. One person at the very front, however, was deliberately kept isolated—others left a gap of more than three steps around him, no one daring to come close.
That man had his hands in the pockets of his track pants, feet slightly apart, standing straight, which only made his tall, lean frame stand out even more.
Just from his posture, Nan Xun could imagine how alert and energetic he was—a sharp contrast to the drowsy, half-asleep figures behind him.
After saying something to Third Brother and the others, Nan Xun jogged straight toward that man.
As expected, sharp intakes of breath rippled through the crowd.
That kid had a death wish—charging straight into Yan Luo’s territory!
The man who stood out like a crane among chickens heard the footsteps and snapped his head around, eyes fierce and sharp.
But when he saw it was Su Mobai, the hostility in his gaze faded. Once Nan Xun reached him, the man simply reached out and ruffled his hair.
“Xiao Bai, you’re here for the morning run?” Yan Luo raised an eyebrow slightly.
Nan Xun stood in front of him and replied matter-of-factly, “Yeah. Why else would I be here? But you, Brother—aren’t you getting out soon? You still care about a few points?”
Yan Luo smiled at him. “Do you know what time I used to get up every day before prison? Five a.m. Early morning boxing, beating people up. Running a few laps now barely counts as a warm-up.”
Nan Xun thought about it, then suddenly went, “Oh—I get it! So when your hands itch, you just grab someone you don’t like and get into a fight, killing two birds with one stone.”
Yan Luo rubbed his head again, amusement flickering in his eyes. “You’re the only one who’d dare say that to my face.”
Nan Xun grinned. “That’s because I’m your little brother. They’re not.”
At that moment, the third bell rang. The guards checked everyone’s numbers and led them to the track.
Once you chose to run, you had to finish it—even crawling if necessary. More than a dozen guards watched the field; no one could slack off halfway. Anyone who tried got greeted with a baton.
On the track, the inmates from B Block had already assembled. Nan Xun immediately spotted Ji He, the B Block boss, standing at the front.
Ji He’s gaze swept briefly over Yan Luo and Nan Xun leading this group, then returned straight ahead.
Normally, the two blocks kept to themselves, though private fights were common. The two block bosses, however, had never fought. Before prison, Ji He had been a famed gold-medal enforcer in the underworld—rumored to have taken down over twenty armed men barehanded. As for Yan Luo, that went without saying—he’d been running the streets since twelve or thirteen, eventually climbing to the top after countless bloody battles.
If those two ever clashed, no one knew who would win. But Ji He knew when to advance and when to retreat; whenever he saw Yan Luo, he always gave him some leeway.
Once the guards finished organizing the lines, a whistle blew, and the four-abreast formation began jogging around the track. At first the lines were neat, but after three laps they fell apart—some people were already lagging far behind, unable to keep up.
Yan Luo maintained a steady pace and glanced sideways at the kid keeping close to him. He clicked his tongue. “Didn’t expect this, Xiao Bai—your fitness is pretty good.”
When he spoke, his voice wasn’t breathless at all. It hardly seemed like he was running five kilometers—more like taking a leisurely stroll.
As they ran, the man’s flexing muscles, lightly swinging arms, steady strides, and long, powerful legs became a striking sight for the rough men behind them.
Beautiful things—man or woman—were always pleasant to look at.
Of course, those panting like dying dogs behind them only dared to sneak glances at Yan Luo’s build. It wasn’t that they were cowards; it was just that the bloody scenes of him fighting replayed too vividly in their minds to ignore.
Nan Xun was breathing a little hard. He knew some long-distance running techniques, and Su Mobai often played basketball and such, so his stamina was decent.
“Brother, I won’t be able to keep you company for the remaining laps. I need to slow down a bit, or I won’t last till the end,” Nan Xun said between breaths, then eased his pace.
Yan Luo patted his shoulder and praised him, “You’ve already done very well.”
Then he sped up, quickly leaving Nan Xun far behind.
Nan Xun’s eyes widened.
So he’d deliberately slowed down earlier to run with him? He’d thought he was struggling to keep up, but in the other man’s eyes, he’d just been a slow, plodding turtle?
