I Was the Boss in the Nineties

Wencheng, 1995.

As state-owned enterprises restructured, a wave of layoffs swept the city, and street toughs were everywhere, living off protection money. Dazhuang in Fuhe Alley shook down Old Sun until his son couldn't afford tuition. Black-car drivers at the South Gate docks fleeced passengers so badly that outsiders were afraid to visit. At the freight station, two gangs fought over routes, and someone drew blood every few days.

Eighteen-year-old Lei was different.

He came from a wealthy family that ran a building-materials business worth tens of millions. He had no need to get involved with the underworld. Yet he chose that path anyway, because he believed in one principle: your fists should be aimed at the bad guys, not the good ones.

He took eight brothers, all seventeen or eighteen, and made a name for himself in a single fight in Fuhe Alley.

Xiaodong was steady, Xiaohui quick-witted, Guo Ge mature, Ake ruthless, Xiaogao a smooth talker, A Xing full of clever schemes, Lailai a social chameleon, and Xiaotang calm and dependable. Nine men, nine minds, yet they pulled together like one.

From Fuhe Alley to the black-car market, then from the black-car market to the freight station, they fought their way to a place of their own and used their brains to forge a path no one else had taken.

Lei wouldn't let his brothers extort honest people, touch drugs, or bully a woman. What he wanted was to turn shady business into a legitimate enterprise.

On the day his company went public, some called him a hero, some called him an underworld godfather, and some said he had simply caught the wave of the times.

Standing in the stock exchange hall, Lei watched the figures flickering across the screen. But what came to mind was that narrow alley in the summer of 1995, and the words he'd spoken after knocking a thug to the ground:

“Your fists should be aimed at the bad guys, not the good ones.”