Rouge Buttons: the Bloody Cheongsam of Old Shanghai

In the twenty-fifth year of the Republic of China, winter came earlier in Shanghai than in previous years. At three o'clock in the morning, most of the neon lights at Paramount have been extinguished, leaving only the faded red lantern on the lintel, swaying in the cold wind. "Inspector Chen, please come this way." The concierge Zhang rubbed his cold-red hands and led him inside. "At what time was the person found missing?" Chen Mo's voice was low and a bit hoarse. His eyes were like those of a hawk, scanning the surroundings vigilantly.