Underworld: Starting with conquering countless lustful beauties

Chen Fang trembled, as if all the anger he felt had found an outlet. He lowered his head, his shoulders shaking violently, and a suppressed sob escaped his throat, but he stubbornly refused to let his tears fall.

"Alright, stop whining like a woman." Chen Feng released his grip, his eyes suddenly turning cold. "If you feel aggrieved, then vent your anger."

"Ergou, Dazhuang, go wash your faces and eat something."

Chen Feng pulled out a flattened pack of cigarettes from his pocket, struggled to take one out and put it in his mouth, and Chen Fang quickly lit it for him.

Amidst the swirling smoke, Chen Feng's eyes turned an unprecedentedly sinister glint.

Chen Feng leaned back on the old sofa, his bare upper body wrapped in thick bandages, a faint trace of blood showing through his left shoulder. His face was somewhat pale, but his eyes were dark and bright, like an ancient well with no bottom.

The Nokia phone on the coffee table suddenly vibrated, breaking the deathly silence in the room.

Chen Feng glanced at the caller ID—Jiang Hong.

He took a deep breath, regulated his breathing, and answered the phone: "Sister Hong."

There was no immediate sound from the other end of the phone, only the crisp click of a lighter igniting a cigarette, followed by a long puff of smoke.

"I heard they were shot like rabbits last night?" Jiang Hong's voice was calm, without the slightest ripple, as if she were asking about the weather today. "And it was one of those homemade hunting crossbows."

"I'm sorry to have made you laugh, Sister Hong." Chen Feng's lips curled up slightly, but the movement of his wound made him frown. "Luckily, it's just a superficial injury; it didn't damage any bones or tendons."

"Luck is also a kind of strength." Jiang Hong said lazily, seemingly unsurprised. "Not calling the police or going to a major hospital was the right thing to do. Zhao Biao is like a leech; once you get involved with official matters, it gives him an opportunity to argue with you. Resolving things underground, although dangerous, is cleaner."

This is Jiang Hong—no hysterical questioning, no empty platitudes; she only looks at the results, only at the pros and cons. This calm "cold-bloodedness" actually gave Chen Feng a unique sense of security.

"How badly are you hurt?" she asked, her tone still flat, but that was the limit of her concern.

"It needs to rest for a few more days."

"Okay." Jiang Hong paused for a moment. "Focus on recovering. Consider it a paid leave for you. Don't push yourself too hard. Jinbihuihuang's security department isn't so dire that it can't function without you."

"Thank you, Sister Xie." Chen Feng smiled. "However, there's someone I'd like to arrange to get into the venue."

"The person who carried you back?" Jiang Hong's information network was obviously very good. "I heard he was a complete stranger, and a super strongman who wielded a steel bar like a magic cudgel."

"He's my childhood friend, Chen Fang. The kind of friend I'd give my life for." Chen Feng glanced at Chen Fang, who was squatting on the ground playing with the bloodstained steel bar. "These are extraordinary times. I need a real knife that can stab people, and a shield that can block arrows."

"As long as you're clean-cut and don't cause me any trouble, you can do whatever you want with me. Your salary will be the same as the deputy captain's." Jiang Hong's voice became slightly serious. "Chen Feng, I know what you're up to. It's good for young people to have tempers, but Zhao Biao has been operating in Nancheng for many years, and his influence extends far beyond just a few thugs. If you want to play, I won't stop you, but don't ruin the reputation of Jinbihuihuang."

"Don't worry, Sister Hong." A fierce glint flashed in Chen Feng's eyes. "I only damage other people's reputations."

"Hang up."

The call ended cleanly and decisively.

"Ergou, you go with Dazhuang to the place and keep an eye on things," Chen Feng said. "Sister Hong has agreed to let you join the security team, and you'll be paid as a deputy captain. Familiarize yourself with the rules of the place first, and also keep an eye on Zhao Biao's movements for me."

Chen Fang's eyes lit up: "Alright! Fengzi, don't worry about recovering. With me here, I guarantee nothing will go wrong! If anyone causes trouble, I'll break their legs with a steel bar first!"

"Don't be impulsive," Chen Feng advised. "You've just arrived, so don't show off yet. It's most important to figure out the situation first. If anything happens, tell me or Dazhuang immediately."

"Got it!" Chen Fang nodded emphatically, then glanced at Chen Feng's shoulder. "Then take good care of yourself. I'm going to the venue now."

Dazhuang also stood up: "Brother Feng, we're leaving now. Call us if you need anything."

After the two left, the room fell silent instantly. Lin Fang continued to feed Chen Feng spoonful by spoonful, occasionally reaching out to wipe away the remaining porridge stains from the corners of his mouth, her movements incredibly gentle.

As soon as they finished eating, Chen Feng started getting restless. Leaning back on the sofa, his eyes were glued to Lin Fang's face, and he said with a sly smile, "Sister Fang, I heard from the elders that injuries need to be balanced in yin and yang to heal quickly. Look at my shoulder, it hurts so much, it definitely needs to be balanced."

Lin Fang was clearing away the dishes when she heard this. Her hands paused, her cheeks flushed red, and she gave him a reproachful look: "You're already like this, why don't you just calm down?"

He got up and pulled Lin Fang towards the master bedroom. He gripped her tightly, drawing her towards him. The kiss was fierce, carrying the bitterness of tobacco and an undeniable possessiveness, as if trying to release all his violence, lingering fear, and unquenched anger through the kiss, or perhaps drawing some kind of strength from it. When the kiss ended, both were slightly breathless. Chen Feng's forehead pressed against hers, his breath hot.

Lin Fang pressed down on his anxious hand, her voice as gentle as water, yet firm: "Don't rush... your shoulder is not good."

She guided him to lie down slowly, letting him sit up against the headboard, using a pillow to support his back and reduce pressure on his left shoulder as much as possible. Then, under Chen Feng's intense gaze, she slowly removed her clothes.

Lin Fang's face flushed, but she didn't flinch. She leaned down and kissed his lips, then gently traced his jawline and Adam's apple, leaving a trail of warm, moist marks on his intact right shoulder blade. Her movements were slow and incredibly gentle, as if she were handling a fragile treasure, or performing some kind of soothing ritual.

Chen Feng's fingertips lightly brushed against her shoulder, and both of them trembled simultaneously. His movements were extremely slow, and the slight movement of his waist and abdomen aggravated his shoulder injury. A subtle, stinging pain mixed with warmth spread, making him feel her soft acceptance even more clearly.

Lin Fang clung to his uninjured right shoulder, her breathing slightly erratic. Soft moans mingled with her breath as she brushed against his ear. She buried her face in his neck, repeatedly murmuring, "Chen Feng..."

Finally, he tightened his arms around her, holding her firmly in his embrace.

Everything returned to calm, leaving only the sound of their breathing.

After a while, Lin Fang got up and immediately checked his left shoulder. The bloodstains on the bandage seemed to have spread a little, but fortunately, there was no sign of excessive seepage.

"It still needs to be re-bandaged," she said, getting up to get the first-aid kit.

"Wait." Chen Feng pulled her back, his gaze lingering on her bare shoulders and collarbone, where the marks he had left during his passion earlier still lingered. His eyes darkened, but in the end, he simply leaned in and gently kissed the most prominent red mark.

"Thank you for your hard work, Sister Fang!" he said softly, his tone carrying an almost candid vulnerability.

Lin Fang felt a lump in her throat, shook her head, quickly got out of bed, picked up her clothes from the floor, put them on, and went to the outer room to get her medicine box.

She carefully unwrapped the blood-stained bandage and cleaned the wound again with iodine. The wound caused by the crossbow bolt was still gruesome, the flesh turned outwards. Lin Fang bit her lower lip, moving as gently as possible.

Chen Feng leaned against the headboard, gazing at her focused profile. Her long eyelashes drooped, casting a small shadow beneath her eyes. Her brows were slightly furrowed, her expression one of pure heartache and earnestness.