In the dim corridor, the wick of the eternal lamp was thickly knotted with Lamp Flower. Occasionally, it made a soft sound or two, exploding into a dim and swaying halo.
The air here seems to be still, the smell is a mixture of old mold, dried blood scabs and the excrement of some unknown creature, as if there is an invisible hand covering the mouth and nose of every intruder.
Fang Mo walked in the front, his official boots stepping on the wet blue bricks without making any sound.
Every step he took was very steady. The Sha Qi he brought back from the Western Desert corpse mountain Blood Sea, although he did not release it deliberately, made the temperature in this corridor drop a few points out of thin air.
Cell Block C, Room 9, arrived.
The two pig-iron fence doors were half open, and the door shafts were smeared with fresh grease. They had obviously been cleaned recently.
The light coming from inside was brighter than in the corridor, and several figures could be vaguely seen standing there awkwardly, rubbing their hands, like prisoners waiting for trial.
"Ouch! Lord Fang!"
Fang Mo As soon as one foot crossed the threshold, an extremely flattering voice rushed towards me.
The speaker was a stooped old soldier, wearing a washed-white jailer's uniform. His wrinkled old face was full of smiles, so much so that his shrewd little eyes could not be found. It was Block C Cell's veteran, Old Huang, known as Huang Laoshi.
Behind Old Huang, there stood a strong man with a hideous scar on his face, and two or three other guards who were not easy to mess with.
These people usually walked sideways in Block C Cell, but at this moment, they all lowered their eyebrows and bent over so much that they wanted to put their foreheads on their crotches.
"Lord Fang, you are finally back." Old Huang rushed to Fang Mo in two steps, but stopped three steps away very politely, nodded and bowed, "I heard that you transferred back to our Block C, Room Shen prison, brothers, it feels like we have a backbone, not to mention how solid we are."
Fang Mo stopped and glanced at several people.
The look in his eyes was not sharp, and even a little careless, but the smile on Old Huang's face froze for a moment, and the cold hairs on his back stood up.
He was very familiar with this look. It was the look in the butcher's eyes as he looked at the pigs and sheep waiting to be slaughtered in the stall. There was no killing intent, only the indifference of assessing the quality of the meat.
"From now on, our brothers will just work for you." Old Huang swallowed, forced a smile, turned sideways, and winked at Scarface behind him, "If there was any lack of care in the past, please take care of us, considering that we are all stirring the pot."
Scarface The jailer's name is Liu Heng. He is usually the most ferocious, but at this moment he is as obedient as a vicious dog with its teeth pulled out.
He stepped forward quickly, holding a bulging red cloth bag in both hands. His knees softened and he almost knelt down.
"Sir... Sir." Liu Heng's voice was trembling, and a smile that was uglier than crying was forced out of his fierce face, "This is the money for tea that the brothers have collected for you. It's not a lot, but it's just a little thought from the brothers. It can moisten your throat and relieve Western Desert's anger. Don't dislike it."
The red cloth bag was raised high above his head and delivered to Fang Mo.
Fang Mo lowered his eyes and looked at the red cloth bag.
The fabric was very new and smelled of inferior quality powder. It was obviously just bought from outside.
He didn't reach out to pick it up, but looked back and forth on those frightened faces with his calm eyes that made people panic.
The air solidified.
Old Huang The cold sweat on his forehead flowed down along the ravine-like wrinkles and into his eyes. It hurt, but he didn't dare to blink.
Liu Heng's arm holding the cloth bag began to tremble. His meager martial arts skills were not enough in front of Fang Mo. The invisible pressure alone made him feel like he was carrying a mountain.
Time seemed to be stretched infinitely at this moment.
Just when several people were about to lose their support and their legs were trembling, and they were about to kneel down and beg for mercy, Fang Mo suddenly let out a long sigh.
"You guys..."
This sigh was light and airy, but it was like a heavy hammer hitting several people's hearts.
Fang Mo stretched out his hand, not very quickly, but Liu Heng instinctively shrank his neck.
The slender white palm took the red cloth bag and weighed it in his hand. It was heavy. Judging from the sound, it should contain fine gold leaves.
"It's really hurting me." Fang Mo shook his head, with a look that was half a smile but not a smile. "If word gets out that I, Fang Mo, looted people's wealth and cream just after returning to Heavenly Prison, wouldn't my reputation in this life be ruined?"
When Old Huang heard this, his heart suddenly fell to the ground Shitou. The feeling of exhaustion from the aftermath of the disaster made him almost lose his balance.
If you are willing to accept money, you are willing to give someone a way to live. In Heavenly Prison, we are not afraid of corrupt officials, but we are afraid of the kind of Living Yama who don't have enough money.
"How can you not!" Old Huang immediately put on an expression filled with indignation, patted his chest and said, "This is brothers' filial piety to adults, it's a favor! Who dares to gossip, I, Old Huang, will be the first to pull out his tongue!"
"Okay, take it."
Fang Mo casually threw the red cloth bag to Old Yan who had been silent behind him, as casually as throwing away a footcloth.
"Just go ahead and do what you are supposed to do." Fang Mo waved his hand, as if he was driving away a few annoying flies, "By the way, find two people and take them to familiarize themselves with the work process. They don't understand the rules in Heavenly Prison yet, so don't get in trouble Immortal."
He pointed at Qian Dagui, Iron Bull behind him and Li Mingyue who was placed on the stretcher.
"Okay!" Old Huang seemed to have received an amnesty, and immediately waved to Liu Heng and the others, "Hurry up! Free up the best Duty Room for you guys to rest! If you neglect it, I will skin you first without my help!"
As if Liu Heng and others were granted amnesty, they hurriedly led Qian Dagui and others inside.
Although Qian Dagui is a young master from a wealthy family, he has already developed his sharp eyesight after following Fang Mo in the heap of dead people for the past few days. Without talking nonsense, he took out a few Banknotes from his arms and gave them to Liu Heng. He was so happy that the scars on Scarface's face were glowing.
The crowd dispersed, and the aisle of Cell Block C, Room 9 became empty again.
Fang Mo did not rush in, but stood there, gently rubbing Human Bone Prayer Beads on his wrist with his fingers.
The beads collided and made a subtle clicking sound, which was particularly clear in the silent corridor.
"Old Huang."
Fang Mo called softly.
Old Huang, who was about to follow him away, stiffened, turned around with a grimace, and bent his waist a little more. "Sir, do you have any other orders?"
"Come with me."
After Fang Mo finished speaking, regardless of Old Huang's reaction, he walked straight to the most spacious and gloomy room at the end of the corridor - that was warden Duty Room that once belonged to Wang Youan.
Pushing open the heavy oak door, the smell of old tobacco mixed with the spicy smell of Shōchū hit your face.
The furnishings in the room are very simple, including a large Rosewood desk, a polished Grand Tutor Chair, a few rusty Torture Instruments hanging on the wall, and a few empty wine jars piled in the corner.
Everything remains as it was when Fatty Wang left, even the dent on the corner of the table used to knock out cigarette ashes is clearly visible.
Fang Mo walked behind the table, lifted up his clothes, and sat down on the Grand Tutor Chair.
He leaned back and crossed his legs very naturally, resting them on the table in front of him.
This gesture was very inelegant, but when he did it, it showed a sense of natural domineering, as if this chair was born for him.
"Don't tell me yet." Fang Mo reached out and patted the armrest, feeling the warm wood patina on his fingertips, "This position is much more comfortable than White Tiger Hall's hard official chair."
Old Huang walked into the room cautiously and closed the door with his backhand, blocking the outside view.
He stood in front of the desk, his head lowered, his hands uneasily rubbing the corners of his clothes. The philistine smoothness in his body was completely restrained at this moment.
"As long as adults like it." Old Huang smiled apologetically and kept his voice low.
Fang Mo raised his eyelids, staring at Old Huang with his deep eyes, without speaking.
Silence.
Stifling silence.
Old Huang only felt that those two eyes were like two Boning Knife, peeling off his disguise layer by layer, exposing all the ulterior secrets deep in his heart to the sun.
"Why did Lao Wang leave?"
Fang Mo suddenly spoke, his tone as calm as if he was asking what was for dinner today.
Old Huang was shocked, and the flattering smile on his face instantly collapsed, revealing a bit of struggle and bitterness.
He opened his mouth, as if he wanted to make up some reasons, but in front of Fang Mo's eyes that seemed to be able to pierce through the soul, all lies seemed pale and feeble.
"Sir..." Old Huang's voice was dry.
"Don't tell me those nonsense about him traveling around Four Seas." Fang Mo took out the bright yellow roll of Imperial Decree from his arms, threw it on the table, and said There was a crisp sound, "Who is he Wang Youan? I know better than you. A master who can steal clothes from a dead man for a few taels of silver, would he be willing to leave behind this Block C Cell's money and water?"
Fang Mo leaned forward, and the ferocious aura developed in Western Desert exploded instantly, like an awakened Fierce Beast, locking the old pawn in front of him.
"Did you catch any wind?"
Old Huang's knees softened and he could no longer hold up. He fell to his knees with a thud.