There is an old saying in Qianmen: Those who are rich will not end well.
Zhao Mingqi and Su Wanqing know this truth. They sent their son, who was just one month old, back to his hometown and wanted him to be an ordinary person. But they themselves could not escape that ending after all.
Ten years later, a well-worn man knocked on Zhao's door with a customized watch and a jade bracelet. 10-Year-old Zhao Chenzhou hid behind the door and watched his grandparents collapse in front of him for the first time.
From that day on, he knew one thing: his parents were not working outside, but were killed.
He knelt before the man and said, "Teach me."
After eight years of studying the art, I practiced a pair of old cards until my fingers were calloused, and I could read every look of people I saw on the street. Song Hailou taught everyone all his skills - not the techniques, but the situation, the reading of the mind, the deepest skill of Qianmen: the game of people's hearts.
At the age of 18, Zhao Chenzhou hid his father's watch close to his body and embarked on the road from the county seat to the provincial capital and then to the capital. This watch is his only talisman - friends will help him if they see it, and enemies will kill him if they see it.
From Liuhe to Pingyang, from Jiangcheng to Beijing, he spent twenty years gathering thousands of generals step by step, and getting closer to the truth step by step. What he has to face is not only the enemy who killed his father, but also the big man behind the enemy who has hands and eyes as wide as the sky.
My father left behind a saying: Among people from thousands of families, the greatest skill is not to win, but to let the damned person show up in the sun.
This is a story about Qianmen. But this story is about more than just gambling.
