White Tower Is Silent

The Yellow River flows through the city, and the wind blows sand all over the sky. In the 1980s, in the land of Jincheng, coal trucks, freight yards, and railway stations supported hundreds of thousands of mouths and countless people who relied on their fists and courage to make a living. Some people turned from coal black men to big bosses overnight. Some people were calling each other brothers at the wine table yesterday, but today they were found dead by the Yellow River. In this land, loyalty is more valuable than life, and face is as valuable as the sky. A word from a brother can make anyone dare to break through mountains of swords and seas of fire; a look from an enemy can make one of them lie down and get out. This is a story about the past in the Northwest Jianghu. The people at that time were as wild as wolves in the Gobi Desert and as fierce as Shaozi in the Hexi Corridor. Their stories are as muddy as the water of the Yellow River and as long as the water of the Yellow River.