It's just a toy, why would you care if it breaks?

Nan Yan's tears finally broke free, rolling down in large drops, a mixture of humiliation and despair.

The short, chubby security guard's sticky tongue was still on his collarbone, the warm touch making his stomach churn.

Just then, the walkie-talkie on security guard Li's waist suddenly started buzzing.

A hurried voice pierced the noise: "Team Leader Li! There's trouble in Section B of the waiting hall. Bring reinforcements immediately!"

Brother Li's expression changed, and he suddenly straightened up, shoving away the short, fat security guard who was still bothering Nan Yan: "Damn it, the important business is here."

The short, stout security guard smacked his lips, still savoring the moment, and swallowed hard as he looked at Nan Yan's flushed skin and tearful eyes. "So what do we do with this kid?"

"What else can we do? Just handcuff him and leave him here. We'll deal with things over there later."

As Li Ge spoke, he pulled out a pair of handcuffs from his waist, grabbed Nan Yan's wrist without saying a word, and "clicked" handcuffed it to the iron pipe on the wall of the room.

The cold metal locked my wrist, making my skin ache.

Nan Yan's wrists already had wounds from being chafed by the rope before. Now, with the handcuffs tightening, he gasped in pain, and tears streamed down his face even more.

"Stay put and don't move!" The tall, thin security guard kicked Nan Yan's shin and hurriedly followed the others out of the room. The iron door slammed shut with a "bang," but then bounced open again.

The room fell silent instantly, with only the buzzing of the incandescent bulb and Nan Yan's suppressed sobs remaining.

He was handcuffed to an iron pipe, his arms just reaching his chest, unable to even raise his hand to wipe away his tears.

Red marks from being touched remained on his bare chest, and the sticky feeling on his collarbone lingered, mixed with the musty and smoky smell in the room, making him feel nauseous.

Nan Yan didn't know how much longer he would have to stay here, nor did he know what those people would do to him when they returned.

The club's hunting game continues, and Mr. Wei is unlikely to come looking for him. He will be recycled and resold in three days.

Now, he has no chance to escape and is trapped in this dark little room like a lamb to the slaughter.

I feel so hopeless.

He slowly slid down to sit on the ground, leaning his back against the wall and curling up.

He thought that perhaps it would be better to die here.

After an unknown amount of time, a series of noisy footsteps and arguments came from the corridor.

Nan Yan looked up and, through the half-open door, saw several people in security uniforms escorting a young man past.

The man was staggering, clearly drunk, and was being held by the arm as he struggled.

"Let me go! What right do you have to arrest me!" The man's voice was slurred with drunkenness.

"Sir, you are drunk and causing trouble here, disrupting public order. We just want you to go to the duty room to sober up," a security guard's voice rang out, his tone tinged with apprehension.

Opposite Nan Yan's room was the station's duty room.

Not long after, they heard the sound of a door opening and dragging coming from across the street, along with the drunk man's incoherent cries: "Darling, don't leave me... don't abandon me..."

Nan Yan curled up on the ground, listening to the noises next door, her heart numb.

He didn't know who the drunkard was, nor did he care; he just wanted to be free as soon as possible.

Another ten minutes or so later, a steady series of footsteps echoed down the corridor, seemingly indicating the arrival of the station's leadership.

"What's going on?" a middle-aged man's voice rang out, carrying an air of authority.

"Director Wang, this kid got drunk in the waiting hall, got into a fight with someone, and smashed a lot of things. We had no choice but to take him to the duty room first," the security guard explained.

"Check if he has any identification and contact his family immediately," Director Wang said. "Judging from his clothes, he's definitely a rich young man. We can't afford to be careless; if anything happens to him, we can't bear the responsibility."

Upon hearing the words "young master," Nan Yan subconsciously raised her head.

He thought of Mr. Wei, who was also such a person, well-dressed, with an extraordinary temperament, and exuding the authority of a superior in every gesture.

After a moment of silence, the security guard's voice came from the other end: "Director Wang, he doesn't have his ID card with him, only a cell phone, but it's locked and we can't unlock it."

"Let him sober up first. Have someone keep an eye on him to prevent him from causing any more trouble or running around, in case anything happens," Director Wang instructed.

Just then, a sound of vomiting suddenly came from next door, followed by the security guards' disgusted murmurs.

"Ugh... That's disgusting, I threw up all over myself."

"The smell of alcohol is suffocating, and he's vomiting so filthy."

"Director Wang, what do you think of this...?"

Director Wang's voice was very impatient: "Quickly clean him up, change him into some clean clothes, and don't let him catch a cold."

"Who...who would go there? It's so dirty," a security guard said hesitantly.

"Yeah, covered in vomit and smelling of alcohol, it's disgusting," another security guard chimed in.

Everyone was pushing and shoving, and no one was willing to clean up the drunkard.

After a few seconds of silence, Brother Li's voice suddenly came through: "Director Wang, I have an idea."

"What method?" Director Wang asked.

"I just caught a suspicious-looking kid. He didn't have an ID card and was carrying several hundred yuan in cash. I suspect he's a homeless person. He's handcuffed in the storage room next door now."

Brother Li said, "That kid seems pretty obedient. How about letting him do the cleaning?"

Director Wang thought for a moment and nodded: "Okay, let him come. Be careful, don't let him try anything funny."

Nan Yan's heart sank. He knew that Brother Li was talking about him.

Soon, the iron door to the room was opened, and Brother Li walked in, holding a key in his hand.

He looked at Nan Yan, who was curled up on the ground, and said, "Consider yourself lucky, you have work to do. Get up now."

He unlocked the handcuffs, finally freeing Nan Yan's wrists, but leaving a deep red mark around them, making the wound hurt even more from the tightness.

He staggered to his feet, instinctively pulling his open pajamas tighter to cover the red marks on his chest, and lowered his head, not daring to look at Brother Li.

"Come with me and get to work properly. If you try anything funny, you'll be in big trouble." Brother Li shoved him, and Nan Yan staggered after him as they walked out of the storage room.

The duty room next door was indeed much more spacious, with a single bed, a table, two chairs, and a toilet in the corner.

The drunkard was handsome, about twenty years old, and was slumped on the bed with his head tilted to one side. His face was covered in vomit, and his clothes were filthy.

It was a well-tailored black suit, obviously expensive, but now it was soaked in vomit and smelled terrible.

He was still clutching a wine bottle tightly in his hand. The bottle was exquisite, and Nan Yan didn't recognize the words on the label, but she could tell that it was expensive.

The drunkard was still muttering to himself, his voice indistinct, occasionally uttering phrases like "Don't leave me" or "I was wrong," which seemed completely out of place with his air of nobility.

Director Wang and several security guards stood at the entrance, watching from a distance, their faces full of disdain.

"That's him." Director Wang pointed to the drunk man on the bed and said to Nan Yan, "Take off his dirty clothes, wipe him clean, and put him in these clothes."

He pointed to a neatly folded security guard uniform on the table; it was brand new and still smelled of its packaging.

"Hurry up, don't dawdle," Brother Li urged from the side, giving Nan Yan a push.

Nan Yan walked to the bedside.

The drunkard's breathing was heavy and reeked of alcohol, making him feel dizzy.

He hesitated for a moment, then reached out with a slightly trembling hand and gently began to unbutton the drunkard's suit jacket.

He moved very gently, as if afraid of waking the other person.

The suit was made of very fine material, completely different from the pure cotton loungewear he was wearing.

He carefully unbuttoned one button after another, revealing the drunkard's fair chest, with smooth lines and delicate skin, clearly showing he hadn't suffered much hardship.

After unbuttoning his jacket, he gently took it off the drunk man and threw it into the nearby trash can.

Next was the shirt, which was also soiled with vomit and stuck to the drunk man's body.

Nan Yan could only peel the shirt off him little by little, her movements gentle, but she still accidentally touched the drunkard's skin.

The drunkard's skin was warm, a stark contrast to Nan Yan's own icy skin.

Nan Yan's body trembled violently, as if she had been scalded, and her cheeks instantly flushed red.

He quickly withdrew his hand, took a deep breath, forced himself to calm down, and continued cleaning.

After taking off his shirt, he went to take off the drunk man's pants.

The trousers were also black dress trousers, equally expensive. Nan Yan had a great deal of effort to take the trousers off the drunk man and throw them into the trash can.

At this moment, the drunkard was left only in his underwear, curled up on the bed like a helpless child.

He was tall and slender with well-proportioned limbs and strong muscles.

Nan Yan picked up the wet towel on the table, wrung it out, and carefully wiped the drunkard's face.

The drunkard had exquisite features: sword-like eyebrows, bright eyes, a high nose bridge, and thin lips. Even with vomit on his face, his handsome appearance was still undeniable.

When the wipe reached his lips, the drunkard suddenly stirred and mumbled, "Water...I want some water..."

Nan Yan paused, instinctively glancing at Director Wang at the door.

Director Wang waved his hand: "Pour him some water, don't let him die of thirst."

Nan Yan nodded, put down the towel, walked to the table, picked up a disposable paper cup, filled it with some warm water from the bathroom tap, and then walked to the bedside.

He gently lifted the drunkard's head and brought the paper cup to his lips: "Have some water."

The drunkard opened his mouth in a daze, took a few sips of water, his throat moved, and then he collapsed back onto the bed and continued to sleep.

Nan Yan put down the paper cup, picked up a towel, and continued wiping the drunkard's body.

From his cheeks to his neck, then to his chest and arms, he moved very carefully, trying his best to wipe every stain clean.

The drunkard's body was burning hot, as if he had a fever. Nan Yan could clearly feel the temperature of his skin and the beating of his pulse.

This close contact made him both nervous and ashamed. He could only lower his head, not daring to look at the drunkard's face, and focused on wiping him clean.

After wiping the body, Nan Yan picked up the security guard uniform from the table and began to dress the drunk man.

The uniform is one size fits all; it's a little small for a drunk, but he can still wear it.

He first helped the drunk man put on a shirt, carefully slipping his arms through the sleeves and then buttoning it up.

Next came the pants. He laboriously tucked the drunkard's legs into the trousers, and with the help of the security guards, pulled up the pants, zipped them up, and fastened the belt.

Throughout the entire process, Nan Yan moved very gently, afraid of waking the drunkard and also afraid that her sensitive reactions would be noticed by others.

Fine beads of sweat appeared on his forehead, his breathing was a little rapid, and his cheeks were flushed, like a ripe apple.

Director Wang and the security guards at the entrance looked at him with satisfaction as he performed the tasks skillfully and obediently.

Brother Li smiled smugly, thinking his idea was pretty good.

After dressing the drunk man, Nan Yan picked up a towel and wiped the stains off the bed and floor.

After doing all this, he stood up, head down, walked to the door, and stood there like a puppet waiting for instructions.

"Alright, go back to that storage room and wait until we contact this gentleman's family before we deal with your matter," Director Wang said, his tone still authoritative.

Nan Yan nodded without saying a word, and followed Brother Li out of the duty room, back into the dark storage room.

This time, the iron gate was closed and locked, isolating him from the outside world.

He slumped to the ground, the red marks on his wrists still aching, and the blush on his cheeks hadn't faded.

The process of cleaning and changing the drunk man's clothes had left him both exhausted and ashamed.

He recalled the drunkard's handsome face and air of nobility, and his indistinct murmurs, and felt a strange sense of envy.

That drunkard was either rich or powerful, and even when he was drunk and causing trouble, people treated him with great care.

But he could only be treated like an object, manipulated and ordered around at will.

In the duty room next door, the drunkard was still fast asleep, occasionally letting out a few incoherent murmurs in his sleep.

Nan Yan leaned against the wall, listening to those sounds, her eyelids growing heavier and heavier.