Shanghai Beach, ten miles away from home, is full of undercurrents. Shen Haitang, the top singer of Paramount, wears a cheongsam and has a great voice, and she is among the dignitaries. No one knew that when she returned to the attic after singing "Tuberose" every night, she would pull out half of a yellowed photo from the bottom of her wardrobe - that was the only clue left behind by her sister who disappeared three years ago. Until that night, Lu Xiaochuan, the new marshal of the Shanghai Army, stepped into the ballroom, his military boots stepped on the marble floor, and his eyes were like a knife scraping across her face. He asked her to sing "Song Girl from the End of the World", but when she leaned over to pour the wine, he said in a voice that only the two of them could hear: "Miss Shen, the person you are looking for is in Warehouse No. 7 Of Zhabei Pier." The fingers under her cheongsam pinched into her palms, and she raised her eyes and met a pair of bottomless eyes. In this game of chess, from the first piece falling, it was destined that no one could escape intact.