The wind from the Huangpu River brought the salty smell to his face. Lu Huaijin stood in the shadow of No. 27 On the Bund, looking up at the spire of the Customs Bell Tower. The hour hand pointed to three o'clock in the morning, and the copper clock face glowed coldly in the moonlight, like a huge eye overlooking the sleeping Shanghai Beach.
He had just pressed down the brim of his police hat when he suddenly heard a muffled sound coming from inside the bell tower, followed by the "thud" of a heavy object falling to the ground. Lu Huaijin immediately grasped the gun and ran up the spiral staircase. There was still rain left on the damp stone steps, glowing dimly in the halo of the flashlight.
The iron door on the top floor of the bell tower was ajar, and the smell of blood mixed with the smell of rust hit your face. Lu Huaijin opened the door, and the flashlight beam swept across the ground - a corpse in a suit was lying on his back, with a bloody silver table knife stuck in his chest, and the gilt pattern of "Parlem" was engraved on the handle. The deceased's right hand was clutching a pocket watch, with a dark green silk thread wrapped around the watch chain.
"Agent Lu, what a coincidence?" A lazy voice suddenly sounded from behind. Lu Huaijin turned around suddenly and saw a woman wearing a dark green cheongsam leaning against the door frame, the moonlight coating her outline with a hazy silver edge. The woman held a cigarette between her khaodan-coated fingers, and curls of green smoke lingered in front of her delicate face.
