Underworld: Starting with conquering countless lustful beauties

The monkey watched from the side, his palms sweating. He was about to bite the bullet and say a few words to smooth things over when he felt a light tap on his shoulder.

Chen Feng had already taken half a step forward.

Instead of standing directly between the two, he stood slightly to the side, so as not to offend Zhao Shao and to partially shield the hostess behind him.

"Young Master Zhao," Chen Feng said, his voice not loud, but steadily breaking the tense atmosphere.

Zhao Shao slowly shifted his gaze from the hostess's face to him, narrowing his eyes: "Who are you?"

Chen Feng pointed to his name tag: "Chen Feng from Internal Security Team Three. This corridor is under my watch tonight."

"You think you can just look after me?" Zhao Shao said as if he'd heard a joke. "Just because you're here watching doesn't mean you have the right to tell me what to do!"

Chen Feng seemed oblivious to the barb in his words, still smiling and speaking politely: "Mr. Zhao, please don't misunderstand, I wouldn't dare to interfere with you."

He turned slightly to the side, allowing the men and women accompanying Zhao Shao to walk down the corridor: "But we have rules in our establishment—there are surveillance cameras in the public areas, and employees are considered a reflection of the company's reputation in public areas. If there's any bump or bruise, Sister Hong will make an example of me first."

As he spoke, he pointed to the inconspicuous little black dot above the corner of the corridor.

"If you want to play, come into the private room and do whatever you want. You're a regular customer, you know these rules better than we do."

"Surveillance?" Zhao Shao raised an eyebrow, glancing upwards as if he had just remembered. "So what?"

Chen Feng followed up, "Sister Hong just gave instructions that Young Master Zhao is coming, and she told me to be careful."

He lowered his voice, seemingly speaking only to Zhao Shao: "She said that anything that pleases Zhao Shao, as long as it doesn't cause a disturbance in the public area, will be on her behalf."

Upon hearing this, the people behind Zhao Shao exchanged glances, their faces clearly showing a hint of envy—it was rare to see a guest in this place who could be personally instructed by the manager to be taken care of.

Zhao Shao squinted at Chen Feng, his expression unreadable.

"You're going to make the decision for Sister Hong?" he asked slowly.

Chen Feng shook his head: "I don't dare to make the decision; I only dare to take the blame."

He smiled and added, "If I really sent a few extra bottles of wine, and Sister Hong asks about it later, I can just say that I gave them to Young Master Zhao on a whim. At most, she'll punish me with a month's performance bonus, and she won't blame you."

Zhao Shao stared at him for a few seconds.

Chen Feng's gaze was open and frank, neither dodging nor showing any fear. He even took a half-step to the side to clear the way: "Young Master Zhao, this way please. Your happiness today makes our little place proud."

In just a few words, he both elevated Zhao Shao's status and brought up the "surveillance footage," "Sister Hong's instructions," and "rules," essentially reminding him that if he really tried to do something inappropriate in the corridor, it wouldn't just be the waiter who would be embarrassed in the video.

Zhao Shao was silent for two seconds, then suddenly laughed.

"It can talk," he said.

He suddenly put his hand on the hostess's shoulder again, this time with much less force, even with a hint of joking: "Okay, since you know how to talk, I'll let it go today."

As he spoke, he casually pushed the hostess forward, saying, "Come on, lead the way. I'm in a good mood today, I'll order a few more channels."

"Yes, yes!" The hostess hurriedly replied, thanking her repeatedly, but couldn't help but steal a glance at Chen Feng.

In that glance, there was lingering fear and gratitude.

As Zhao Shao and his men walked past Chen Feng, they paused, tilted their heads, and whispered, "Your name is Chen Feng, right?"

"Yes."

"I'll remember you." Zhao Shao's smile remained unchanged, but it had a slightly sinister feel to it. "Don't be too cocky in the East China Sea in the future."

After saying that, he strode towards VIP room 888, with his bodyguards following behind, their footsteps heavy.

The air in the corridor gradually relaxed.

The monkey let out a long sigh: "Just now... I thought we were going to fight."

After holding back for a while, Da Zhuang said in a low voice, "Brother Feng, what you just said was... pretty impressive."

Chen Feng glanced at the hostess's retreating figure and said calmly, "There are rules here. If something can be done according to the rules, don't try to do it yourself."

The monkey scratched its head: "Aren't you afraid that Young Master Zhao will hold a grudge?"

"He already remembered me," Chen Feng chuckled. "But if we had really made a scene here, he would have lost face, and our establishment would have lost face too."

He paused, his gaze falling on another camera at the end of the corridor: "At least for now, no matter who reviews the footage, they can't find a single fault with me."

The monkey paused for a moment, then gave a thumbs up: "I'm impressed."

Da Zhuang chuckled sheepishly, "Whatever Brother Feng says, we'll do."

Chen Feng didn't say anything more. He straightened his tie, stood back in his place, and stood firmly at the end of the passage like a nail.

……

The event ended at 2 a.m.

As the guests gradually left, the corridor quieted down, leaving only the footsteps and whispers of the waiters cleaning up the mess.

After Chen Feng and his three teams completed the final round of checks, they returned to the Internal Security Department to hand over their duties. Blackie glanced at the duty roster and snorted coldly.

"You're quite capable," he said sarcastically. "You dare to mess with the Zhao family?"

Chen Feng didn't explain, but simply placed the patrol logbook in front of him: "I've written down everything that happened."

Blackie flipped through the notebook, then slammed it shut: "I don't care how good you are outside, if you want to stay in this house, just remember four words—don't cause trouble."

Chen Feng grunted in agreement and turned to leave.

Blackie stared at his retreating figure, his eyes dark and brooding.

"Brother," the underling whispered, "if this guy stays with us, he'll probably be a menace later."

Dark-skinned man narrowed his eyes and slowly exhaled a breath of stale air: "A menace is also a knife; it all depends on who can wield it."

He looked up and gazed in the direction of the monitoring room.

In the monitoring room, the screen was frozen on the scene that had just happened with Zhao Shao.

Jiang Hong stood in front of the screen, gently tapped the image, and a smile appeared on her lips:

"good."

……

Across the street from the magnificent Golden Splendor, a black Santana sat quietly, its headlights off, only the cigarette butt glowing intermittently.

In the back seat, a slightly overweight man sat there, a cigarette between his fingers, half of his face hidden in the shadows.

"Brother Defa, that's him." The henchman in the front row turned around and said with a fawning smile, "He's the guy who drank a bottle of baijiu at the club yesterday and injured your two bodyguards."

Wang Defa squinted as he watched the figures emerging one after another from the magnificent entrance, his gaze finally settling on the tall, imposing figure among them.

"From the countryside?" he asked.

"I heard so."

"Your surname is Chen?"

"Yes, his name is Chen Feng."

Wang Defa took a drag of his cigarette, pressed the butt against the edge of the car door, and said in a somber voice:

"That country bumpkin dares to step on my face."

He was silent for a moment, then suddenly laughed, a laugh full of sinister intent:

"Don't worry. Since Sister Hong is going to protect him, let him live a couple more days."

"We'll talk about it when we leave this door someday."

In the early hours of the morning, the air in the East China Sea always carries the salty smell of the sea breeze and the lingering odor of city exhaust. Chen Feng declined Monkey's invitation to go out for a late-night snack and walked back to that old-fashioned tenement building alone.

Half of the streetlights were broken, and the other half flickered weakly. Chen Feng's steps were slow but steady, each step seemingly measured. Although he didn't turn around, his intuition honed in the mountains told him—someone was following him.

From the moment he stepped out of the magnificent palace, that faint gaze lingered on his back.

Not far, about fifty meters away, the footsteps were very light, but the occasional sound of stepping on pebbles still did not escape Chen Feng's ears.

He paused briefly at the entrance of a dark alley, pretending to tie his shoelaces, and quickly glanced behind him out of the corner of his eye.

It was a short man wearing a baseball cap, huddled in the shadows where the streetlights didn't reach, holding his phone as if he were sending a text message.

"They're keeping watch." Chen Feng knew what was going on.

But he didn't want to alert them. Whether it was Wang Defa or Young Master Zhao, if they wanted to play, he'd play along. Now wasn't the time to act, unless they were after his life.

Chen Feng stood up and continued walking back, but this time he took a slightly roundabout route, deliberately avoiding several blind spots without cameras, and finally turned into that dilapidated tenement building.