Underworld: Starting with conquering countless lustful beauties

At the end of the corridor, a woman in a red cheongsam was walking slowly towards them. She was in her early thirties, with a full figure, her curly hair piled up behind her head, revealing her fair neck. She held a slender cigarette between her fingers, and through the swirling smoke, her features were exquisite.

It's Jiang Hong. The manager of the lavishly decorated house, everyone calls her Sister Hong.

She walked closer, looked at Chen Feng, then at Hei Pi, and said in a lazy voice, "What's going on? Why all the noise?"

Blackie quickly smiled apologetically: "Sister Hong, this new guy doesn't know the rules and hit Mr. Wang's bodyguard. I'm handling it now."

Jiang Hong raised an eyebrow: "President Wang? Which President Wang?"

"It's Wang Defa, the one who makes building materials."

"Oh." Jiang Hong nodded, took a drag of her cigarette, and slowly exhaled. "Where is he?"

"He's angry in the private room, saying he's going to cause trouble."

Jiang Hong laughed: "Disrupt the event? Does he dare?"

She walked up to Chen Feng and looked him up and down. Chen Feng had injuries on his face and blood at the corner of his mouth, but he stood straight with unwavering eyes.

"Did you make the call?" Jiang Hong asked.

Chen Feng nodded.

"Why are you hitting me?"

"He hit women."

Jiang Hong was silent for a few seconds, then suddenly reached out and wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth with her fingertips. The movement was very light, and she smelled of perfume.

"Does it hurt?" she asked.

Chen Feng shook his head.

Jiang Hong smiled, then turned to Hei Pi and said, "Give him some clothes that fit properly. From today onwards, he won't have to clean the toilets anymore."

Blackie was stunned: "Sister Hong, this..."

Jiang Hong's eyes turned cold: "What, my words have no effect?"

Blackie quickly lowered his head: "No, no. I'll take care of it right away."

Jiang Hong then looked at Chen Feng: "Your name is Chen Feng, right? Did Lin Fang bring you?"

Chen Feng nodded.

"Okay." Jiang Hong stubbed out her cigarette. "You'll be with me tonight. Let me see what else you can do besides fight."

She turned to leave, then stopped, glanced back at Chen Feng, and said, "Remember, here, hitting someone isn't a skill. The skill is being able to stand up after hitting someone."

After saying that, she walked away in her high heels, the cheongsam slit high, revealing her fair thighs.

Chen Feng stood there, his back still aching, but the fire in his heart burned even brighter.

Dark-skinned man glared at him, his face ashen, and gritted his teeth, saying, "Consider yourself lucky. Go change your clothes!"

Chen Feng didn't say anything, and followed him to get his new uniform.

This time the clothes fit perfectly. A dark blue suit, a white shirt, and black leather shoes. After changing, I felt like a completely different person—the rustic air was suppressed, replaced by a rugged and tough look.

Looking at himself in the mirror, he suddenly remembered what Lin Fang had said that morning: "You need to stand up for yourself."

At 10 p.m., the nightclub was brightly lit. Neon lights flashed, music was deafening, and guests entered one after another.

Chen Feng was assigned to stand guard at the entrance to the VIP area. His tasks were to check invitations, maintain order, and—protect Sister Hong.

Jiang Hong was entertaining Wang Defa in VIP room 888. Chen Feng stood outside the door and could hear laughter, toasts, and Wang Defa's hoarse voice from inside.

After a while, the door opened. Jiang Hong came out with a professional smile on her face, but her eyes were cold.

She glanced at Chen Feng and said, "Come in."

Chen Feng followed her inside.

The private room was filled with smoke. Wang Defa sat on the sofa, with a girl on each side of him. Seeing Chen Feng, his face darkened: "Sister Hong, what do you mean by this?"

Jiang Hong sat down with a smile, crossing her legs: "Mr. Wang, today's incident was a misunderstanding. This is my newly hired security guard, who doesn't know the rules. I apologize on his behalf."

She poured a glass of wine and handed it to Wang Defa.

Wang Defa didn't answer, staring at Chen Feng: "Kid, you're pretty good at fighting."

Chen Feng remained silent.

Jiang Hong placed her wine glass on the table, her tone becoming more subdued: "Mr. Wang, please do me the favor. Tonight's drinks are on me."

Wang Defa glanced at Jiang Hong, then at Chen Feng, and suddenly smiled: "Alright, I have to give Sister Hong face. But—"

Hongjie winked at Chen Feng: "What are you standing there for? Hurry up and come over to toast President Wang."

He stared at Chen Feng, a grin spreading across his face: "Fine, I'll offer you a toast. But I have one condition—"

He pointed to the waiter in the private room and said, "Go to the bar and get two unopened bottles of 60-proof bulk liquor."

"If you're really tough, then finish both of these bottles. Dare you?"

An uproar erupted around them.

An average person would need to be hospitalized after drinking just half a bottle of strong liquor, let alone finish it on the spot.

This is asking him to submit with his life!

Blackie secretly rejoiced: You're doomed now.

The waiters held their breath; no one dared to speak.

Jiang Hong frowned slightly, but did not stop it—she knew that in this situation, she would either completely submit or completely break off relations. And she still wanted to protect this newcomer.

All eyes were on Chen Feng.

He looked at the bottle of wine, then at Wang Defa's smug face.

There was no cursing, no arguing.

He stepped forward, unscrewed the bottle cap, and tilted his head back to drink.

"Gulp—Gulp—Gulp—"

The strong liquor felt like a knife, cutting down his throat and burning his internal organs. His face flushed red, veins bulged on his forehead, and the muscles in his neck taut like iron bars.

But he didn't stop.

He sipped it one sip after another, like drinking water.

The wine spilled from the corner of his mouth, dripping onto his suit and soaking the fabric.

He drank a whole bottle of liquor, weighing a pound, in just three minutes, right in front of everyone.

He swallowed the last bite and gently placed the empty bottle on the table.

A crisp "snap" sound.

The entire room fell silent.

Wang Defa's smile froze. He had expected this country bumpkin to beg for mercy, collapse, or vomit and lose control, but the man simply stood there, breathing heavily, yet his eyes remained clear.

There was no intoxication, only a suppressed flame.

Jiang Hong gave him a deep look and said softly, "Alright, Mr. Wang, we've had the drinks and given each other face. Tonight's on me, what do you say?"

Wang Defa snorted coldly, "You're smart to know what's good for you!"

He turned and left, glancing back at Chen Feng before he went: "Kid, I'll remember this."

The door closed, and the corridor returned to silence.

Chen Feng stood still, his body swaying slightly.

My stomach was churning, my heart was burning, and my vision was going black.

But he gritted his teeth and held on, refusing to give up.

Jiang Hong walked up to him and handed him a glass of honey water: "Drink some, it'll calm you down."

Chen Feng took it and sipped it slowly.

"Why are you drinking?" she asked.

"Because you want me to stay," Chen Feng said in a low voice, "I don't want to put you in a difficult position."

Jiang Hong was stunned, then laughed, a somewhat complicated laugh: "Do you know how harmful this alcohol is to your health? Developing stomach problems later on is no joke."

"I can handle it," he said.

Jiang Hong looked at him, and her eyes changed. She no longer saw him as a reckless brute, but as a man who knew how to be patient and knew when to advance and retreat.

"I'll have my men take you to the hospital."

"No need, this little bit of wine isn't enough."

Chen Feng turned to leave, his steps already unsteady.

He walked out of the VIP area step by step, his figure swaying, but his spine remained straight.

Only after he turned the corner at the end of the corridor and could no longer see anyone did he grab the wall and bend over abruptly—

With a "whoosh," he spat out a mouthful of blood mixed with alcohol, which splattered on the ground in a shocking manner.

He slid down to the ground against the wall, sweating profusely and trembling all over.

Just then, a pair of pink slippers came into his view.

Looking up, I saw Liu Yu.

She arrived at some unknown time, holding a coat in her arms, her eyes filled with fear and heartache.

"You...how could you be so foolish!" Her voice trembled as she rushed forward to support him. "You drank so much alcohol? Did you want to die?!"

Chen Feng tried to laugh, but only coughed up a mouthful of blood: "It's nothing... People from the mountains... can hold their liquor..."

She took off her coat and draped it over his shoulders, then helped him up firmly: "I'll take you home!"

Chen Feng struggled: "No need... I can walk by myself..."

"Shut up!" Liu Yu roared. "Who are you trying to fool? Sister Fang? Sister Hong? Or that bastard?"

Chen Feng was stunned.

The two walked out of the nightclub in silence. The early morning wind was cool, and it felt like a knife scraping against their burning bodies.

Chen Feng leaned against the car window, and in his hazy state, he heard her say:

In the distance, in the monitoring room on the second floor, Jiang Hong stood alone in front of the screen, replaying the scene: Chen Feng tilted his head back and drank two bottles to the bottom without changing his expression.

She stubbed out her cigarette and muttered to herself:

"That's interesting."