It was late spring on the seventh day of April in the 20th year of the Republic of China. Bai Jiusi received a red express telegram that was 800 miles away and dragged her back to Shanghai from the pig pen in Baoding Mansion. The telegram was drafted by his father, Bai Shouren, and contained only nineteen words: [My father is in dire straits, the Datong Theater is in critical condition, and he must be returned to his home as soon as possible. If he dies too late, his body will be gone].
In this semi-colonial concession where people cannibalize people, foreigners look down on Chinese, compradors look down on industry, youth gang gangsters look down on down-and-out actors, and men look down on harem girls. If she were weak in the slightest, Bai Jiusi's name would appear on the prostitution roster of a brothel on Sima Road at this time tomorrow, or she would become another nameless floating corpse wrapped in a sack at the bottom of the Huangpu River...
The old man's debt to the King of Hell is a desperate situation, but it may not be an opportunity to survive. Since fate forced her to be on a cliff, she simply regarded this cliff as the most gorgeous stage. Nineteen-year-old Bai Jiusi carried three copper coins and a small abacus in his arms, and officially entered this turbulent and murderous ten-mile foreign market!
