9: Chapter 9 In the detention center, the mad donkey was so scared he peed his pants.

Feng Lvzi shouted several times, but finding that the Guard hadn't come over at all, he finally realized something was wrong.

This death god before him had clearly come prepared—and had greased the right palms.

Seeing Zhao Yang walking toward him, Feng Lvzi shrank into a ball in fear: "Don't come any closer!"

F*cking crossover lines again!

Zhao Yang took a deep breath and suppressed the urge to laugh.

He slowly pulled a drawstring plastic bag from his shirt and shook it out.

Feng Lvzi's pupils constricted, and he nearly wet himself: "Big brother! Big brother, don't! Please don't! If you kill me, you won't be able to get out either!"

"Don't talk nonsense." Zhao Yang gave a twisted smile. "It'll clearly be a case of you committing suicide with a plastic bag out of fear of punishment. What would that have to do with me?"

"Brother!" Feng Lvzi's voice cracked. "How exactly did I offend you? At least let me know why I'm dying, okay?"

"You know what you've done," Zhao Yang said coldly. "Since you dared to do it, you must face the consequences. Alright, any last words? I'm in a hurry."

"Ah! I'll kill you!"

Feng Lvzi suddenly let out a roar and lunged at Zhao Yang with bloodshot eyes.

Zhao Yang raised his foot and delivered a kick.

Feng Lvzi fell flat on the ground.

Before he could react, Zhao Yang stepped forward, slipped the plastic bag over his head, and twisted his arms behind his back—the sequence of movements was fluid and smooth, as fast as dismantling a toy.

Feng Lvzi's legs kicked wildly, but he couldn't break free no matter what.

He strained to lift his head, his voice muffled by the plastic bag: "Big brother... let me die knowing why... who exactly did I, Feng Lvzi, offend..."

Zhao Yang reached out and pulled off the plastic bag, looking down at him coldly.

Feng Lvzi lay on the ground, not daring to move an inch.

It felt like being stared down by a man-eating tiger; cold sweat poured down instantly.

Zhao Yang suddenly reached into his shirt.

Feng Lvzi shuddered violently—his crotch went soaking wet.

A foul odor began to spread.

However, when he saw that Zhao Yang had pulled out a photograph, he breathed a small sigh of relief.

Zhao Yang held the photo, comparing it to Feng Lvzi's face for a while, his brow furrowing deeper and deeper.

"What's your name?"

"Feng... Feng Lvzi."

"Your real name."

"Feng Dazhuang."

"Feng Dazhuang?"

Zhao Yang's Killing Intent surged again.

Feng Lvzi shook like a leaf: "Ye... yes, big brother. If you don't believe me, ask the Guard. My name really is Feng Dazhuang. Everyone calls me Feng Lvzi..."

Zhao Yang held the photo up to him again: "Do you recognize this person?"

Feng Lvzi stared at the photo and swallowed hard.

The person in the photo looked a bit like him, also possessing a donkey-like face, but it definitely wasn't him.

He vaguely realized something and hurriedly said, "No... I don't know him. He looks a bit like me, but look, big brother, this guy's nose is different from mine, and he has a scar here that I don't. Big brother, did you get the wrong person?"

Zhao Yang's gaze turned cold: "Is your name Feng Dazhuang or not?"

"Ye... yes."

"Which characters?"

Feng Lvzi trembled: "Feng as in 'two horses,' Da as in 'big,' and Zhuang as in 'strong.'"

"Really?"

"It's true, big brother! If you don't believe me, ask the Guard! I wouldn't dare lie."

Zhao Yang fell silent for two seconds.

Then he cursed under his breath: "That idiot Meng Dehai... his work is so f*cking sloppy!"

His voice wasn't loud, but just enough for Feng Lvzi to hear clearly.

He sniffed, retreated two steps with a look of disgust, and put away the photo and the plastic bag: "Get up, you're off the hook."

Feng Lvzi felt as if he had been granted a divine pardon and scrambled up from the ground: "Big brother, really? Can I be nosy and ask... who is the person in the photo?"

"Mind your own business," Zhao Yang gritted his teeth. "Of all the names you could have, you had to be called Feng Dazhuang and have such a donkey face."

Feng Lvzi finally understood and said with a bitter face, "Big brother, the guy in the photo... has the same name as me?"

"Homophones. His 'Zhuang' is the one for 'shape.' It was a mistake."

With a dark expression, Zhao Yang sat on the spot of the communal bunk closest to the door.

Feng Lvzi complained inwardly—this was truly a disaster out of nowhere.

But the suspicion in his heart grew stronger.

Especially when he thought of the sentence Zhao Yang had just cursed.

Meng Dehai, the Director of the Public Security Bureau.

This guy actually used the Director's connections to come in here and kill someone? That relationship was anything but ordinary. And clearly, this man's faction wasn't on the same side as Xu Jiang's; he had never heard of such a powerful figure in Jinghai.

After a while, the cellmates who had fainted gradually woke up and gathered around Feng Lvzi, asking with their eyes what had happened.

Feng Lvzi curled his lip: "Listen up, from now on, in here, everyone listens to..."

He looked at Zhao Yang and asked respectfully, "Big brother, how should we address you?"

"Call me Brother Mo," Zhao Yang gave him a cold glance.

As that gaze swept over them, Feng Lvzi and the others all shuddered in unison.

Feng Lvzi was the first to react, glaring at the others: "What are you standing there for? Call him Brother Mo!"

Everyone realized and shouted in unison, "Brother Mo!"

Zhao Yang didn't say anything; he just pointed at Feng Lvzi and then at the door: "Go change your pants."

...

The situation in the Detention Center was quickly reported back to Meng Dehai and An Changlin.

The two of them watched the surveillance video, rendered speechless.

"Old Meng, where did this kid learn his moves?"

"How should I know?"

"Isn't he your relative?"

Meng Dehai smiled bitterly. "Don't even ask me. Even when my mother was alive, she rarely mentioned this branch of the family; I've never even met them. But since Zhao Yang has this kind of skill, we don't need to worry too much about his safety."

An Changlin nodded silently.

"By the way, Old An, what has An Xin been up to lately?"

"Helping someone find their family."

"Hmm?" Meng Dehai was taken aback. "What do you mean?"

"Through his inquiries, he found out that Huang Cuicui has a daughter. The child's father is still serving time and apparently doesn't even know he has a child."

Meng Dehai smiled. "That kid is truly warm-hearted. With his personality, he should have gone into charity."

...

Over the next few days, Zhao Yang whipped Feng Lvzi and his crew into total submission.

Especially Feng Lvzi; upon learning that Zhao Yang would be released at the same time as him, he patted his chest and promised to play the host and treat Zhao Yang to a meal.

Finally, the day arrived to leave the Detention Center.

Zhao Yang followed Feng Lvzi out the main gate and stretched.

Looking at the empty road, he frowned. "Didn't you say someone was picking you up? Where are your brothers?"

Feng Lvzi gave a sheepish laugh. "They're busy."

"Busy?" Zhao Yang's face went cold. "Playing me? I should have finished you off inside."

Feng Lvzi shrank his neck. "Brother Mo, someone will be here any second."

Tut-tut-tut—

A motorcycle pulled up in front of them.

Feng Lvzi's eyes lit up. "They're here!"

He quickly hopped on and turned to Zhao Yang. "Brother Mo, sorry for the humble ride, get on."

Zhao Yang's face was dark as he pointed at the Motorcycle Taxi Driver in front. "Get off."

The driver was stunned. "Huh? Who are you?"

"Get off."

Zhao Yang grabbed him by the collar and hauled him off, straddling the driver's seat himself. He told Feng Lvzi to "hold on tight," twisted the throttle, and zoomed off.

Feng Lvzi's neck nearly snapped back, his hair whipping wildly in the wind.

"Ah! Brother Mo! Brother Mo, slow down!"