The new resume submitted by Zhou Hu quickly reached the hands of the prison director Qian Huan, who accepted it without a word.

Fifteen minutes later.

Li Bashan appeared again in the prison director's office, Qian Huan wore a smile that was thirty percent friendly and seventy percent apologetic as he said:

"Bashan, I broke my promise. I didn't expect people below would be so resistant to me when I first arrived."

"I just thought to go through the motions, but who would have thought that your direct superior, the Prison Chief, would change the name on the resume submitted up the chain."

"Sigh, I underestimated the situation. Who knew Zhou Hu would be so ruthless, giving neither you nor me any face, acting so decisively. Well then."

"Your junior master's job opportunity might not happen this time. Let's wait for the next chance. This opportunity will probably go to..."

Qian Huan picked up the resume and read the name on it: "Cang Qingsen. I heard he's your section chief Chang Wei's nephew."

Qian Huan sighed deeply and, looking at the expressionless Li Bashan, said softly, "Sigh, maybe next time, when there are more openings, I'll prioritize your junior master."

Li Bashan, still expressionless, replied in his low, resonant voice, "No, the opportunity is my junior master's."

Qian Huan was slightly taken aback. He had envisioned all sorts of possible reactions from Li Bashan—perhaps an angry protest, perhaps helpless endurance, or even silent acceptance.

But he never imagined that Li Bashan would be so calm yet resolute, as if...he wasn't asking or negotiating but simply stating a predetermined fact.

"???" Qian Huan couldn't help but be a bit stunned, for a moment almost doubting if he was the real prison director here.

Li Bashan didn't give Qian Huan much time to be surprised, asking in his low, resonant voice: "You agreed to allow my junior master to take the job, right?"

Qian Huan, under the sincere gaze of Li Bashan, felt his heart twinge inexplicably and quickly nodded: "Right."

Li Bashan continued in his low voice: "Zhou Hu disagrees?"

Qian Huan nodded again: "Right."

Li Bashan lifted his thick eyebrows slightly, his voice carrying a faint ripple: "Chang Wei is trying to snatch my junior master's spot?"

Qian Huan nodded mechanically, correcting: "Chang Wei's nephew, well, you're not wrong to think of it as Chang Wei."

Having sorted out the situation from the prison director, Li Bashan's eyebrows relaxed, and he smiled broadly at Qian Huan like a child: "Hmm, you're not the problem; the issue lies with Zhou Hu and Chang Wei."

Seeing Li Bashan's pure, childlike smile, Qian Huan swallowed hard, not understanding why the various schemes and plots in his mind suddenly melted like snow under the scorching sun.

Replacing them was a piercing chill that seeped into his bones, like the cold of melting snow.

Qian Huan swallowed hard, using all his strength to nod firmly and give a thumbs up: "Yes, yes, that's right, Bashan, you're clever, you've understood it very well."

Li Bashan scratched his head a little shyly, as moments of being praised for intelligence were rare in his life.

The last time he received such a compliment was, well, the last time.

Li Bashan's tiger-like eyes softened as he looked at Qian Huan, speaking in his deep voice: "Can you give me the resume of the person trying to take my junior master's spot?"

Qian Huan readily agreed and, still rational, made a copy, handing only the copy to Li Bashan.

Li Bashan gazed at it peacefully, suddenly feeling a sharp keenness in his heart, suspecting that the prison director wasn't that smart.

Why go through the trouble of making an extra copy of a dead man's resume?

Isn't it redundant? Could it be the prison has the same quirk as his sixth junior brother, who likes to burn "portraits" for the dead?

Holding the copy tightly, Li Bashan turned around and left, leaving Qian Huan alone in the office.

Only then did Qian Huan exhale a long breath, as if removing an invisible weight from his shoulders.

He slowly sat back in the large, solemn seat of the prison director, only then noticing that his back had unwittingly become drenched with sweat.

"Damn, what happened to me just now? Why did it feel like I had just walked through the gates of hell?"

Qian Huan's complexion was slightly pale as he took a few deep breaths to calm his mind. Looking around the spacious office, he still felt somewhat unsettled: "The security measures are still not secure enough; relying only on the laser passage in the corridor cannot ensure absolute safety."

Thinking this, he reached out his hand to press a button on the phone, summoning the security division's members.

Qian Huan believed it was very necessary to carry out a thorough renovation of the office interior to enhance security.

"Little Uncle was right; being a prison director is probably a high-risk job. I need to be more cautious in the future," Qian Huan muttered to himself.

....

Li Bashan returned to the martial arts school by the time it was evening.

Without resting, he headed straight to the kitchen where a pot was steaming with rice. The warm steam felt especially comforting in the night. Seeing this, the anxiety on his face gradually eased, as if a heavy stone in his heart had finally settled.

He picked up the wooden bucket and, eating in large mouthfuls, walked toward the inner courtyard. With each step, the "water level" in the bucket quietly decreased, and by the time he entered the inner courtyard, the rice had halved.

The scene in the courtyard was familiar.

The second sister was drinking alone, the third was munching on peanuts, the fifth was reading, the sixth was painting, and the junior sister and junior brother were practicing martial arts in the yard.

It all seemed like a repetition of yesterday, yet there appeared to be subtle differences.

Li Bashan's keen tiger eyes swept the courtyard, his brows furrowing slightly as he began to observe and analyze closely.

His intelligent mind quickly caught an anomaly: Strange, it seemed the second, third, fifth, and sixth had something on their minds. Their eyes occasionally sneaked glances at the junior brother and sister, but why?

As Li Bashan pondered this, he continued eating, the rice in the bucket gradually reaching the bottom.

Having finished, he licked the leftover rice grains on his lips before pulling a crumpled resume out of his pocket and slapping it on the table, his voice low and resonant: "There's a problem, someone's trying to snatch the work opportunity from my junior brother."

As soon as he spoke, everyone's eyes turned in unison, focusing on the crumpled resume.

The unfamiliar photo and name caught their attention, their pupils involuntarily flashing with a hint of joyful severity.

It wasn't the resume they were scrutinizing, but a menu, filled with enticing dishes. The name on it read: Cang Qingsen.

A sense of anticipation rose in everyone's hearts, thinking perhaps a new round of "team-building" activities was about to commence?

Li Bashan further added: "It's not just him. Chang Wei and Zhou Hu need to be dealt with too."

At these words, everyone's interest heightened.

Cang Qingsen was just an appetizer, while Chang Wei and Zhou Hu were the main courses. This "team-building" seemed to offer a lavish "menu," thanks in large part to the junior brother.

Everyone glanced at Feng Mu with increasingly soft satisfaction.

Liu Xie picked up the resume, smoothed it slightly, and handed it to Feng Mu, casually saying: "This 'team-building' activity is thanks to you again. Have a look, any thoughts?"

Feng Mu, with a calm expression, accepted the resume, his eyes lightly scanning over the name. He wasn't interested in the story behind this person; whoever dared to try for his position must have been ready for death.

However, when his gaze lingered on a particular part of the text momentarily, his brow raised slightly, revealing a moment of surprise:

"Third-year pending graduate from the Eighth Academy, what a coincidence, this is going to be interesting!"

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