The pungent smell of smoke mixed with the stench of alcohol wafted into Fu Yan's nostrils without restraint.
As soon as he entered the house, he saw takeout boxes piled up crookedly on the rooftop, with oily soup mixed with leftover food spilled all over the floor. His once cozy home was now a mess, completely unlike what it used to be.
Fu Yan covered his mouth, suppressing his nausea, and stepped over the threshold.
A beer bottle rolled out of the bedroom door and rolled all the way to his feet.
As soon as Fu Yan looked up, he met the gaze of a blond-haired man in the room.
The man had a scar across his left eye, a cigarette dangling from his lips, and a deck of cards in his hand.
Upon seeing Fu Yan, he scoffed, "Someone's here."
Fu Yan's steps felt like they were made of lead. Just as he realized what was happening and was about to run out the door, he accidentally stepped on an empty wine bottle and fell to his knees with a thud.
His palms, chafed raw from bracing against the ground, were mixed with dirt and sand, and the cold wind made him wince in pain.
Just as Fu Yan was about to get up, he caught sight of two pairs of leather shoes out of the corner of his eye.
The two men held him down by the shoulders and kicked him in the knee, forcing him to kneel down again.
The blond-haired man grabbed his hair, forcing him to tilt his head back, and said in a shrill voice, "You're that kid's sugar daddy, aren't you? You look kind of familiar."
Fu Yan raised his head and looked at him expressionlessly. It seemed like this person didn't recognize him.
The blond-haired man felt a chill run down his spine under the fearless gaze of Fu Yan's dark eyes. He raised his hand and slapped Fu Yan across the face, then grabbed Fu Yan's hair and pulled him back hard: "Damn it, don't look at me like that. Where's Xiao Xin? Are you here to pay off his debts?"
That slap caused a small scratch on the inside of Fu Yan's mouth from the teeth.
The taste of blood spread in his mouth, and the sore skin in his mouth hurt, but it was nothing compared to the pain in his heart.
Thinking of Xiao Xin, Fu Yan's eyes filled with desolation. After a long while, he murmured, "I don't know, I don't know where he went..."
The blond-haired man snorted, looking unconvinced.
He grabbed Fu Yan's hair hard, forcing him to tilt his head back, his eyes filled with malice as he looked at Fu Yan: "You won't talk, huh?"
Fu Yan's hair was being pulled, as if it were about to separate from his scalp.
He swallowed a mouthful of bloody saliva, coughing lightly as he choked.
Seeing him frowning in discomfort but showing no sign of begging for mercy, the blond-haired man sneered, "What's your relationship with Xiao Xin?"
Fu Yan swallowed the blood, a smile suddenly appearing on his lips. "You're looking for him, is there something you need?"
As soon as he finished speaking, the person standing behind him kicked him hard.
"Cough pfft—" Fu Yan frowned and spat a mouthful of blood onto the blond-haired man's face.
The man behind him said to the blond-haired guy, "Brother, why are you wasting your breath talking to him? You'll behave if you beat him up a couple of times."
The blond-haired man impatiently wiped his face, glaring angrily at the other man: "Did the hell tell you to do it? Get the hell out of my way!"
The person who was being scolded, still holding the playing card, snorted and left.
Huang Mao then lowered his eyes to examine Fu Yan. Fu Yan had changed into very ordinary clothes, but the more he looked at Fu Yan's face, the more familiar it seemed. He felt that Fu Yan was not an ordinary person.
He stood up straight, beckoned to one of his men, and pointed at Fu Yan, who was kneeling on the ground, saying, "Search."
The subordinate nodded and searched Fu Yan's body, but found nothing except a key.
The blond-haired man tossed the keys aside and cursed at him, "Useless."
Seeing that Fu Yan didn't have anything of value on him, he dispelled his doubts.
He grabbed Fu Yan's chin, forcing him to raise his head again. "I thought you were somewhat useful, but I didn't expect you to be just a worthless piece of trash."
Huang Mao had absolutely no interest in people who didn't even have the will to fight back after being beaten.
He released Fu Yan, beckoned to his two subordinates behind him, and looked down at Fu Yan kneeling on the ground: "Beat him."
Huang Mao was too lazy to do it himself. In this situation, when he ordered his men to do it, it meant that they would only stop if Huang Mao told them to.
Two burly men received the order and grabbed Fu Yan by the collar, slapping him in the face.
Fu Yan's face immediately turned purplish-blue, and after the intense pain, he felt a numbness in his face.
The two men seemed to think that slapping him in the face was too much of a waste of their hands, so they let go of his collar and kicked him hard in the stomach with their leather shoes.
Fu Yan remained silent throughout, as if he hadn't felt anything, but suddenly he grinned, revealing bloodstains on his white teeth, which looked rather eerie.
The dazzling light from the overhead incandescent bulbs hurt Fu Yan's eyes as he lay on his back.
He squinted at the two dark figures in the backlight and chuckled, "You haven't eaten?"
He felt no pain; the physical pain on his body was nothing compared to the pain in his heart.
The two henchmen, humiliated by such blatant mockery, exchanged a glance before forcefully stomping on his abdomen.
Fu Yan felt a violent contraction in his abdomen, and blood churned in his throat. He turned to the side and spat out a mouthful of bloody foam.
His black hoodie was stained with mud and some unknown filth, and his blood-stained face made him look utterly disheveled.
After vomiting, Fu Yan propped himself up against the wall behind him and suddenly grinned and laughed loudly.
The laughter attracted the attention of the people playing cards inside. The blond-haired man frowned, glanced at the doorway, took the cigarette out of his mouth, and asked his subordinate, "What's going on?"
The subordinate, somewhat apprehensive, lowered his eyes and said, "Boss, he seems to have gone mad..."
"Damn it." The blond-haired man threw down his cigarette and cards, kicked the small coffee table in front of him in frustration, and walked towards the door with two empty wine bottles in his hand.
His men saw him coming and immediately made way for him.
Fu Yan was still laughing, his laughter deafening, mocking everyone present.
Huang Mao picked up the wine bottle in his hand and smashed it on Fu Yan's head.
The bottle shattered, and shards of glass flowed down with the warm blood, slid across Fu Yan's eyes and lips.
Fu Yan stuck out his tongue and licked the corner of his lips, which tasted of blood.
He leaned against the wall and beckoned to the blond-haired man with a defiant gesture: "Continue."
Huang Mao was furious; he had never seen such an arrogant person.
"Damn it!" He grabbed Fu Yan by the collar and smashed the wine bottle in his hand down on his head.
Fu Yan felt a wave of dizziness, then his eyes rolled back and he fainted.
Huang Mao's eyes were bloodshot; the fire that Fu Yan had stirred up in his heart hadn't died down yet. He let go of Fu Yan, grabbed a wine bottle from the ground, and smashed it against the back of Fu Yan's head.
The person was silent, and blood was everywhere.
Seeing that the blond-haired man showed no sign of stopping, the people nearby immediately went forward to pull him away.
"That's enough, boss! If you hit someone again, you'll kill them!"
Huang Mao was pulled off Fu Yan.
He composed himself and said to his men beside him, "A bunch of useless cowards! I had to do it myself, and now look how silent we are!"
He cursed and broke free from the hands that were holding him, and was about to walk back into the house when he heard someone exclaim.
"Boss! You didn't kill him, did you?"
Seeing his overreaction, the blond-haired man kicked him: "What are you yelling about? What's it to you whether I live or die?"
The younger brother showed him the photo in his hand, and said in horror, "I just saw him online, he looks like the young master of the Fu family..."
Huang Mao's heart skipped a beat, and he asked, "Is he Fu Yan?"
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