The Facial Makeup Fell into the Engine Oil

On the night of Nanzhanbu Island, there are two names that never meet. One is Jin Chao. Ten years ago, he moved to Thailand with his father. From a gentle boy, he became a car repairman in an underground boxing ring. He was full of mobile phone oil and suffered from old injuries. He had to survive at the bottom with dignity. One is a picker. The young master of Qiumen, the owner of the seaside tavern, and the "face" at night. He was born into the blood of a gangster, with the blade hanging above his head, and even his breathing had to be measured. A boxing match, a wrench, and a handkerchief returned by one party. They were supposed to be strangers with no connection to each other on this island - until the man with a bloody white shirt got into the old Subaru at the door of the car repair shop. One has been dormant in the darkness for too long and has forgotten what pain is. One has been walking on the edge of a knife for too long and has forgotten what stopping means. The rainy season on Nanzhanbu Island is very long. Long enough for one person to learn another person's silence, long enough to break down the life he owes into every afternoon spent repairing cars. ——"See if I need someone to drive for you." ——"I owe you my life, pay it back slowly." Two people who were crushed by fate became each other's only defenseless accomplices in the deepest night in a foreign country. About falling and supporting, about flowers that bloom in the mud and are not intended for anyone to see.