Desert Island Survival: A Hundredfold Improvement After Having a Baby?

The ramp looked narrower than it did last night.

Moisture surged up from below, and the gravel crunched underfoot.

Lin Fan walked behind.

Yang Ningcong walked ahead, limping.

He dared not run, because the dagger was pressed against his lower back.

The knife tip was through his clothes, not deep, but enough to make him behave with every step he took.

The two walked halfway down.

The sea breeze suddenly picked up.

The wind blew in from the crevices in the rocks on both sides, carrying a sharp whistling sound, scattering the sounds on the beach into fragments.

Lin Fan stopped.

"call."

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Yang Ningcong was taken aback. "Who are you calling?"

"Wang Laoliu".

Yang Ningcong turned to look at him, his expression somewhat complicated.

Yang Ningcong opened his mouth.

"Sixth Brother!"

The wind tore the sound apart, but there was no response from the other side of the beach.

The canvas shed is still there, but the fire has gone out, leaving only black ash.

Several bodyguards were supposed to be guarding outside, but at this moment only one figure could be seen outside the tent, leaning against the wreckage of the ship, seemingly dozing off.

Yang Ningcong shouted again.

"Wang Laoliu!"

No one agreed.

Lin Fan narrowed his eyes; something was wrong.

A man like Wang Laoliu couldn't possibly be fast asleep at this hour.

He didn't move all night, so he shouldn't have been offline this morning.

Lin Fan pushed Yang Ningcong against the stone wall next to him.

"continue."

Yang Ningcong slammed his shoulder into a rock, wincing in pain.

He turned around, wanting to yell, but when he saw Lin Fan's face, he swallowed his words.

He took a deep breath.

"Sixth Brother!"

"Wang Laoliu!"

"Where the hell have you been?!"

The sound grew sharper with each screech.

Lin Fan didn't tell him to stop, but the person below still didn't agree.

All that could be heard was the sound of waves crashing against the sand. Yang Ningcong's throat was dry from shouting, and his heart was filled with anger.

He looked at the canvas shed.

Now one corner of the tarpaulin is hanging down.

A gust of wind blew, lifting a corner of the cloth slightly before it fell back down.

Yang Ningcong had only glanced at it casually.

The next second, he froze.

Behind the tarpaulin, half of a woman's calf was visible.

He recognized the thin gold chain on her leg.

Meng Tiantian, a minor internet celebrity.

The one who filmed him on the deck before setting sail, calling him "Young Master Yang is the best."

Yang Ningcong's mind went blank.

He stared at the canvas.

The wind blew again.

This time, he noticed the man's boots.

Military boots.

The uppers of the shoes were worn out, and the way the shoelaces were tied was also very skillful.

Wang Laoliu's words caused Yang Ningcong's face to gradually turn red.

"Wang Laoliu!"

This sound was louder than all the ones before it.

The bodyguard leaning against the wreckage on the beach finally moved.

The bodyguard looked up and saw two people standing in the middle of the slope. He was stunned for a moment, then suddenly stood up straight.

"Young Master Yang!"

His shout alerted the other two bodyguards as well.

The two men emerged from behind the wreckage on the other side, carrying short knives and iron bars. Upon seeing Yang Ningcong, they rushed over quickly.

Lin Fan raised his hand, drew the pistol from his waist, and pressed the muzzle down.

"Stand there."

The three bodyguards below abruptly stopped in their tracks, their boots leaving deep dents in the sand, and they didn't take another step forward.

The middle section of the slope is several tens of meters from the beach.

At that distance, Lin Fan might not be able to hit accurately.

But nobody wanted to gamble their life on his fifth shot going astray.

These three bodyguards had been following Yang Ningcong for quite some time.

He usually receives a fixed monthly salary from the Yang family, and they also pay his social insurance and housing fund contributions.

Going to sea with the young master means living a life of luxury, but if trouble comes, you'll just be able to fend off the drinking at parties.

Wang Laoliu is different from them.

This old guy is a high-risk bodyguard outsourced from elsewhere; he's a mercenary who's seen bloodshed in the Middle East and Africa.

This morning, just as dawn was breaking, the bodyguards, still half-asleep by the fire, heard noises coming from the tattered canvas shed.

The sound wasn't loud, but with the sea breeze rustling on the beach and not even a chirp of insects, the slight creaking of the bed and the woman's suppressed voice could be heard clearly.

That's Meng Tiantian.

Before setting sail, on the yacht deck, this little internet celebrity wore a very revealing bikini and sunglasses that covered half her face every day. She would even use her pinky finger to hand out water to them.

A top streamer with millions of followers is kept by Yang Ningcong for tens of thousands of yuan a day, and he doesn't even give his bodyguards a second glance.

When they heard that sound in the morning, the three bodyguards were squatting behind the wreckage, smoking, their teeth practically grinding to dust.

A sour feeling welled up inside, along with a mix of envy, jealousy, and resentment.

Why is it that when everyone else is on a deserted island, Wang Laoliu can pull Yang Shao's woman into bed?

Now, Yang Ningcong was standing on the slope, half of his face swollen, and he could see with his own eyes the white leg with the little golden lotus hanging out of the tent.

The bodyguard with the buzz cut dusted off his hands and straightened up.

The sour smell from the morning has completely dissipated, leaving only the desire to watch the show unfold.

Sixth Brother, you think you can take advantage of your fighting skills and treat us like dirt.

The real culprit is watching from above this time. Let's see how you get out of this mess.

Yang Ningcong's throat was about to bleed.

He bought that chain himself with his credit card; it cost over 80,000 yuan, and it was immediately put on Meng Tiantian's ankle.

Now that foot is rubbing itself unconsciously outside the canvas, covered in sand.

This humiliation was even more infuriating than being punched by Lin Fan in the cave.

"Wang Laoliu!" Yang Ningcong yelled again, his voice hoarse, "You're dead inside!"

The sound pierced through the sand and hit the canvas canopy directly.

My gaze passed through the tattered canvas; the space inside was extremely cramped.

A few salvaged rotten planks were pieced together and covered with sofa cushions peeled off from the yacht wreckage.

The smell of sweat mingled with the lingering scent of perfume that Meng Tiantian was wearing.

Meng Tiantian's long hair was disheveled and stuck to her cheeks and neck with sweat.

The shouts and curses outside pierced her ears, and she shuddered violently.

"Yang... Young Master Yang's voice."

Her voice was trembling, thick with sobs. She tried to push the man off her with her hands.

The fingernails dug into Wang Laoliu's hard pectoral muscles, but didn't even leave a red mark.

"Stop...stop it now!" Meng Tiantian gasped for breath, her gaze sweeping in terror over the gap in the canvas. "I see Yang Ningcong!"