In Jiangcheng, it's midsummer.
The scorching sun hung overhead, softening the asphalt roads in the urban villages. The air was filled with a turbid smell of oil smoke, sweat, and cheap perfume.
The narrow alleys are complicated, the handshake building is packed tightly, and the electric wires are criss-crossed like a tangled mess. You can see littered garbage, waterlogged low-lying areas, and shirtless lower-class men shaking cattail fans everywhere.
This is the muddy den at the bottom of Jiangcheng, a slum that the rich scorn, and a Shura field where countless little people struggle to survive.
Ye Xiao was leaning against the mottled wall, holding a RMB 50 loose cigarette in his mouth, half-squinting his eyes, looking like a lazy person waiting to die.
He is 1.85 Meters tall, with a broad frame, wide shoulders and narrow waist. Even if he is just standing casually against the wall, he has an oppressive tough guy aura. With wheat-colored skin cultivated by years of fighting, running around, and being exposed to the sun and rain, coupled with a sharp jawline and dagger-shaped eyebrows, he is not a handsome boy in the traditional sense, but his hormones are bursting, and his whole body is full of wild masculinity.
Good-looking skins are all the same, but this kind of tough guy temperament that licks blood from the edge of a knife and is ground out of the mud at the bottom is the most eye-catching thing.
"Brother Xiao, you really don't want to go? Brother Scar asked you to go to the venue tonight. It's two hundred a night, including cigarettes and water. You're a fool not to go!"
Next to him, a skinny monkey-like young man was sweating profusely and stamping his feet anxiously. He was none other than Ye Xiao's younger brother, Monkey.
Monkey is seventeen or eighteen years old, with a childish look on his face. He has been living in the village in the city for two years, and the only person he admires is Ye Xiao.
Don't look at Ye Xiao this year
