>During the famine in Henan in 1942, my mother sold me into a brothel with half a bag of sorghum.
>The boss pointed to the portrait of "Red Girl" on the wall: "Learn from them, and you can also eat white steamed buns."
>Ten years later, I fled to Hong Kong and exchanged my dignity for banknotes under the neon lights.
>In the 1980s, I returned to Shenzhen and bought the entire street with my flesh and blood money.
>I trade in stocks, real estate, and open nightclubs. The newspapers call me the "Golden Touch".
>Until the day the bodyguard found white powder in my Mercedes-Benz.
>When the police broke in, I was stuffing the last gold bar into my granddaughter's silver bracelet.
>"Don't be like grandma." The moment the handcuffs were locked, the lily specimens fell from the Bible——
>It was the spring of 1942, when my mother was pinned to my lapel.
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