Chapter Six: Teasing the Underlings

So I gently patted the shoulder of my comrade from the Northwest and quietly shared my plan.

As I expected, the moment he heard it, he shook his head vigorously. “No way! That’s just asking for death!”

“Come on! They’re going to mess with us no matter what! Why not let them suffer a bit in return?” I kept persuading him. “Besides, if we all keep our mouths shut, who could ever prove it was us?”

After thinking it over, the man from the Northwest had to admit it made sense. As for the other two fellows, they said nothing, simply watching the two of us with blank faces.

Sensing my concern, my Northwest friend clapped the two others on the back and grinned. “Don’t worry! Da Zhuang and Er Zhuang are from my village! With the tall guy gone, I’m their leader now!”

Tall guy? Who was that?

It took me a moment to realize he was referring to the man I’d just drowned.

Night fell quickly. The four of us soaked in the water prison. During the day, it hadn’t been too bad, but now, as darkness settled, the temperature plummeted and we all began to shiver.

Worse still, the water was so deep that lying down or even sitting to sleep was impossible. Especially for the three from the Northwest—they were shorter, and could only keep their heads above water by standing on the dead man’s body. Otherwise, the water pressed on their chests, leaving them gasping for air.

Even so, we didn’t just sit idle. We took turns scraping away at the muddy bank.

After about an hour, we’d managed to dig a modest hole. I glanced into the distance and saw several beams of flashlight dancing in the darkness—patrolling guards, no doubt.

As the lights drew closer, I felt a surge of glee. “Come on, you bastards, step a little nearer! You won’t know what hit you!”

Sure enough, as they approached, I saw it was the same two guards who’d pissed on us that afternoon.

One of them, the blond, shined his flashlight directly in my face, making me squint. But I remembered the warning from my comrade—don’t flinch, don’t react.

“Well now! Tough piggies, aren’t you? Come fight me if you dare! Want me to warm you up again?” he sneered, squatting at the edge of the bank.

In the next instant, the patch of earth beneath him gave way—undermined by our digging—and he fell, yelling, straight into the water.

Instinctively, he grabbed for his companion, but only succeeded in yanking down the man’s pants as he tumbled in.

The other guard, stunned, found himself dragged bare-bottomed into the muck alongside him.

Once they’d struggled to their feet, both were caked in mud, sputtering and swearing.

“Why the hell did you pull me in?”

“How was I supposed to know the ground would collapse?”

“Damn it, where are my pants?!”

Watching them paw at their faces and fish for lost clothes in the muddy water, I could barely suppress my laughter—especially at the bare-assed one, who fumbled around like a clam-digger searching for his trousers.

We all felt a surge of satisfaction, but remembered the unspoken rule: never laugh aloud. We stifled our amusement.

The other inmates, though, didn’t know better. They cackled openly at the guards.

Already humiliated, the two guards exploded with rage, brandishing their electric batons and storming toward the other cages.

“Laugh again, I dare you!”

“Try grinning one more time!”

We heard the buzz of electric batons and a chorus of unearthly wails—strangely, not from the prisoners, but from the guards themselves.

The two of them, soaked to the skin, had zapped themselves along with their victims, leaping and shrieking as if possessed.

My Northwest friend stared in astonishment. “What’s with these two idiots? Why are they dancing like that?”

I couldn’t help scoffing. “Don’t you know? Water conducts electricity. They shocked themselves as much as anyone else!”

Realization dawned on him and he chuckled. “Serves those bastards right! May the shocks fry them all!”

After several long, chaotic minutes, the two guards finally scrambled to the bank, still bare-bottomed, throwing nervous glances at the water as if unsure what had happened.

At last, they vanished, defeated, into the darkness.

Only then did we allow ourselves to laugh freely.

When our laughter died down, my Northwest companion slapped me on the shoulder. “Brother, you’re a genius! You really gave those fools a taste of misery!”

I grinned sheepishly; all I’d wanted was to trip the guards, the rest had been a happy accident.

Once the mirth faded, we turned our thoughts to sleep. Lying down was out of the question, so we settled for propping ourselves against the bars.

Exhausted from the day’s ordeal, I drifted off almost immediately.

I don’t know how much time passed before a commotion woke me. Someone was tugging at my hair.

Blinking, I looked up to see 2050 crouched at the edge, poking me with a stick.

I was about to call out, but she quickly signaled for silence. Only then did I notice everyone else was still asleep.

She tossed two foil packets into the cage. I picked them up—compressed biscuits.

The sight of food made my hunger roar to life. I’d been here three days, surviving on two buns and a bowl of rice gruel. If not for Amber, I’d have starved.

I looked up at 2050 in confusion. We could barely get slop, so how had she managed to bring us compressed biscuits?

Her lips moved silently, and I finally understood: “I closed a deal!”

I didn’t hesitate. Grateful, I flashed her an OK sign.

After she left, I tore open a packet, only to stop short. Was it right to eat alone?

More than that, if the others found out I had food, it could cause trouble—maybe even bloodshed.

So, I quietly woke my three companions.

They stared at me in confusion until I motioned for silence and whispered, “Keep it down! I have food.”

Their eyes widened in disbelief. Da Zhuang and Er Zhuang shuffled closer.

I pointed to the other cages, and they caught on, falling silent.

Carefully, I opened the packet—two biscuits. Without hesitation, Da Zhuang and Er Zhuang each grabbed one, hungrily stuffing them into their mouths.

My Northwest friend and I split the other packet, each taking half.

These were military-grade biscuits—dense and high in calories, but dry and hard to swallow. We washed them down with the filthy water from the cage, caring little for taste.

Afterwards, the three still gazed at me hungrily. I could only shrug. “That’s all there is. Really, nothing left.”

To prove it, I lifted my jacket pocket. “Check for yourself if you don’t believe me.”

Seeing I was willing to let them search, they finally accepted I had nothing more to share.

Even half a biscuit made a world of difference. We perked up, while the others in their cages slumbered on, waking only to continue their hungry soaking.

We chatted quietly. In the process, I learned my Northwest friend’s name: Xie Yixiang.

“Hey, brother, what’s your name?” he asked.

“Liu Nanfeng,” I replied.

“Hey, that’s a good name! Isn’t there a song or something? ‘The southern wind knows my heart, blows my dreams to the western isles…’”

I smiled awkwardly; my sister’s name really was Liu Xizhou.

When dawn came, a wake-up bell sounded.

Within five minutes, we saw a great mass of guards herding prisoners from the dormitories to the office building.

“It’s time for the morning meeting,” Xie Yixiang explained. “They’ll sing the company song, get assigned their quotas, and only then can they eat breakfast.”

Soon, the building rang with a loud chorus: “Take a chance! Be the third generation rich! Work like mad or you’ll fail! Want success? Go crazy first! Fight for money, charge, charge, charge!”

A few minutes later, the prisoners surged out and bolted toward the canteen, the scene reminiscent of a bayonet charge in a war film.

But not all of them rushed. Some strolled over, chatting and laughing.

Xie Yixiang explained that these were the top performers. The management was more lenient with them; they could eat their fill at any time.

If you managed to close deals worth over two hundred thousand a month, you could be promoted to team leader or assistant.

But for newcomers and those who didn’t meet their targets, we could only wait on the first floor for the leftovers—the slop after the others had eaten their fill.