The Thirteen Bodyguards of Shanghai

The mist over the Huangpu River had yet to lift when the boots of “Quickblade” Xiang Fang crushed a dockworker’s severed finger. Written in blood on the black notice were the words “The Thirteen Sworn Brothers: Settle the Score in Three Days.” At the bottom was stamped a silver wolf’s head, the mark their chief had burned onto each of them when the thirteen swore brotherhood years ago. Xiang took out his pocket watch. Inside was a faded photograph. In it was the youngest of them, “Little Zhuge” A Jie, who was now chained up in a dungeon in the French Concession.