The rusty rivers and lakes hide a conspiracy colder than the blade of a knife
In Binjiang City in 1998, the sea breeze was filled with the smell of diesel and blood.
The walls of Tongzilou in the old city peeled off like scales, and the neon tubes went out brightly in the fumes from the night market stalls. People here didn't trust the copper buttons of the police station, but they trusted the rusty fire ax in Brother Hao's hand - until a certain gangster wearing a tattoo sticker overturned the rules of the entire street with half a bottle of fake pills.
Xiao Heyu never wanted to be a hero.
The test results for his mother's uremia were sharper than the gangster's machete, forcing him to serve dishes at the "Tuberose" bar during the day and go to the dock to carry frozen fish at night. Until that rainy night with the pungent smell of sea, he broke the wrist bone of the stick gang's fire starter with his bare hands, but the poison needle of Liang Junbang's pen, second in command of the Ax Gang, was pressed against the back of his neck - it turns out that the most deadly rust is never on the blade, but in the folds of the human heart.
The people here live like anchor chains in the harbor, covered with algae and mustard that cannot be washed away:
Hao Yuhang's fire ax split through thirteen smuggling boats, but it could not break the eyes of his brothers who were increasingly evasive.
Liang Junbang always wears a gold-plated fountain pen in his suit pocket. Some say it contains a poisonous needle that can seal his throat upon seeing blood. Some say the barrel of the pen is engraved with the name of his first love.
The three heroes of the Stick Gang left butterfly marks on the port containers. From the depths of the containers filled with Southeast Asian cigarettes, kitten-like whimpering could occasionally be heard.
What Xiao Heyu clutched tightly was a lighter engraved with the word "Zhu"...
