In Shanghai’s bustling foreign settlement, dangerous undercurrents churned. This was an age of blades, lies, and cheongsams.
Su Wanmo was the “Buddha” whom everyone in Shanghai feared. In public, she was the astute head of the Linglong Chamber of Commerce, moving between foreign trading houses and wealthy families. In secret, she controlled the Zhabei docks and held the lifeline connecting the rivers to the sea. With a few words and a smile, she could get Western medicine past the Japanese blockade; with a turn of her hand, she could determine the price of gold on the black market. Her celadon cheongsam wrapped around a proud, unyielding spirit, while the string of pearl earrings at her neck bore the weight of countless storms of blood and violence.
Then a mysterious shipment of weapons from the south shattered the dangerous balance between the various factions. British merchants were insatiably greedy, Japanese collaborators lurked everywhere, and the Green Gang was rife with hidden attacks. And that Mr. Qiao, who always saved her a seat beneath the opera stage and smiled with such warmth, seemed to be hiding another face...
When a dear friend became a mystery and trust became a bargaining chip, Su Wanmo stood on the roof of the Peace Hotel, gazing down at this dazzling yet rotten metropolis, and slowly struck a match.
“They say Shanghai is a den of tigers and wolves.”
“Funny you should say that.”
She exhaled a mouthful of smoke, the flame illuminating the cold glint in her eyes.
“I was born a tigress in lipstick.”
[A sweeping tale of the Republican era about power, betrayal, and redemption. See how, as a woman amid the chaos of war, she fights her way through the deadly game to carve out a path for herself and the people.]
The writing is very much like the Republic of China. The latest chapter is updated. The confrontation scene makes people feel very graphic. There is still a bit of suspense at the end. I will continue to follow. I want to know who the ghost is.