Hong Kong variety show: Hung Hing, are you contributing to society?

At night, at an abandoned pier in Wan Chai.

The salty sea breeze, carrying the smell of decaying wood, swept across the deserted beach.

Xiao Fu led Ah Zhong and Ah Yi out of a black Toyota.

The three were dressed in simple sportswear and walked with a steady gait.

Xiao Fu walked at the front, his face so ordinary that he would be lost in a crowd, but his eyes were unusually calm.

Ah-Zhong and Ah-Yi, each half a step behind, were both young men in their early twenties, their muscle lines faintly visible under their thin clothes.

"Brother Fu, look ahead," Ah Zhong said in a low voice, pointing towards the depths of the dock.

A derelict wooden fishing boat lay half-abandoned on the beach, its paint peeling off to reveal the grayish-white wood.

A person sat at the bow of the boat, with only a red light flickering in the darkness—it was a cigarette.

Xiao Fu nodded, and the three continued forward.

The sound of footsteps was particularly clear on the quiet dock.

The red light from the fishing boat was bounced into the sea, the man jumped off the boat, and five more figures immediately stood up on the beach.

By the faint light from the cargo ship in the distance, you could see that the five men were all carrying baseball bats.

The plane glided gracefully from the fishing boat and landed on the soft sand.

He was wearing a leather jacket, jeans, and a pair of badly worn motorcycle boots.

He kept chewing something, his cheeks puffing out.

He was holding a black motorcycle helmet in his right hand, swinging it casually in the air.

The two sides stopped ten meters apart.

The plane squinted at the people approaching.

He recognized Xiao Fu—Lin Yaodong's top henchman, who had risen to prominence in the Hong Kong underworld in the past six months.

It is said that this man is highly skilled, efficient, and most importantly, almost foolishly loyal to Lin Yaodong.

As for the two young men behind Xiao Fu, Fei Ji didn't recognize them; they were probably newly promoted henchmen.

The plane then looked behind the three people.

Darkness stretched towards the dock entrance, where no one was present.

"Just the three of you?" the plane asked, its voice deliberately drawn out, sounding somewhat angry.

Xiao Fu didn't reply, but just looked at him quietly.

The plane chewed its gum vigorously a few times: "I need to see your boss, Lin Yaodong!"

Xiao Fu said calmly, "Brother Dong is busy, so he sent me to ask you why you brought people to cause trouble on our territory."

"No time?" The plane laughed, nodding faster and faster, with increasing force.

The chewing gum in my mouth was making a crackling sound as it was chewed, even though it had long since lost its flavor.

He felt a fire rising from his stomach and shooting straight to his head.

In the Wo Luen Shing district, although Fei Ji may not be the most powerful figure, everyone in Sham Shui Po respectfully calls him "Brother Fei Ji".

He started from the bottom as a lowly clerk, working his way up from the bottom, dealing with everything from ripping people off to managing the venue and collecting debts.

He has seven knife scars on his body, each one a testament to the blood he shed for the gang.

Now that Lok Gor has taken over as the head of Wo Shing Wo, he helped to grab the dragon head pole, although he ultimately failed.

But he has done a great job, and now he is the boss of Wo Luen Shing in Wan Chai!

What now?

He personally sent his plane to cause trouble on Lin Yaodong's territory, hoping to force the other party to show up.

And what happened? Lin Yaodong sent one of his men to fob him off!

"Lin Yaodong, the leader of the Hung Hing triad in Mong Kok..." Airplane said, each word seemingly squeezed out from between his teeth, "Is he that powerful!?"

The last three words were shouted out, echoing across the sea.

He felt utterly disregarded.

He was all too familiar with this kind of contempt.

When he was a child in a public housing estate, his family was poor, so he wore his older siblings' hand-me-downs, and his classmates at school looked down on him.

In the early days of his career, because he didn't know how to talk and only focused on his work, the senior members of the gang looked down on him.

What he hates most is being looked down upon.

"Speak! What does Lin Yaodong mean?!" The plane stepped forward, almost touching Xiao Fu's face.

He could smell a faint scent of soap on Xiao Fu, which was strange, as a man from the underworld would not smell of cigarettes or alcohol, only soap.

Xiao Fu didn't even blink, his expression still blank: "Brother Dong is busy. You brought people to our territory to cause trouble, so Brother Dong sent me to talk to you."

"Talk?!" Feiji laughed angrily, tilting his head and sizing Xiao Fu up and down. "Who do you think you are? What right do you have to talk to me?!"

His five henchmen stepped forward at the opportune moment, dragging their baseball bats across the sand with a rustling sound.

The atmosphere suddenly became tense.

Ah Zhong and Ah Yi turned slightly to the side, their hands reaching for their waists.

Xiao Fu raised his hand and made a very slight downward pressing motion.

The two stopped immediately.

Xiao Fu looked at the plane so close to his face, and still spoke in that flat tone, "Brother Dong said I should have a proper talk with you, in a polite and courteous manner..."

"Fuck you!" Before the plane could finish speaking, the motorcycle helmet he swung with his right hand had already smashed into Xiao Fu's face!

It happened without warning, quickly, ruthlessly, and accurately.

The motorcycle helmet traced an arc through the air, creating a whooshing sound.

He rarely talks when fighting; he prefers to use his fists rather than his words—an instinct he developed over a decade of street hustling.

Xiao Fu made a move.

His movements didn't seem fast, even somewhat casual—he raised his hand to block.

The moment the arm made contact with the helmet, a dull thud was heard.

Xiao Fu's arm didn't even flinch, steadily blocking the heavy blow.

The plane's pupils contracted.

He used 80% of his strength in that strike, but Xiao Fu not only caught it, he caught it effortlessly.

"If you hit me, I'll hit you." Xiao Fu said as if he were describing something very ordinary.

The plane opened its mouth as if to curse, but the words turned into muffled sobs.

Because he saw that Xiao Fu's left hand had somehow clenched into a fist and emerged from below, heading straight for his chin.

too fast.

While the plane's brain was still processing the information "How did this guy throw that punch?", a sharp pain shot through its chin.

It wasn't the pain of being punched; it was a complex, excruciating pain—like dislocated bones, shattered teeth, and nerves being violently torn apart.

He heard a crisp "snap" sound coming from inside his head.

Then the world spins and turns upside down.

The plane landed face up on the beach, half of its face buried in the sand, kicking up a cloud of dust.

His vision went black and his ears were ringing.

He tried to get up, but his body wouldn't obey him.

I wanted to swear, but I couldn't muster any strength in my jaw and could only make strange "hoho" sounds.

The more the plane moved, the more the body looked like it was convulsing.

"Boss!"

"Boss!"

Five baseball bats were swung up at the same time.

Instead of retreating, Xiao Fu advanced, dodging the first blow by sidestepping it, and then slashed at the wrist of the person wielding the stick with his left hand in a palm-blade motion.

The younger brother screamed as the baseball bat slipped from his hand.

Xiao Fu caught the falling stick, swung it backhand, and smashed it down on the second man's ribs.

It was that crisp sound of bones breaking again.

Ah Zhong and Ah Yi also moved.

The two were clearly well-trained, one on the left and one on the right, focusing their attacks on the lower body.

Ah Zhong swept one of them down with a kick and snatched the stick from his hand; Ah Yi was even more direct, taking a blow to the shoulder with the stick and punching the other man in the stomach at the same time, causing the underling to kneel down and vomit on the spot.

Thirty seconds.

From the moment the plane was attacked until all five henchmen were lying down, it only took thirty seconds.

A groan rose from the beach.

Some people rolled around clutching their severed arms, some curled up like shrimp, and some simply passed out.

Ah Zhong and Ah Yi were panting, having been hit once or twice, but because they dealt with it well, the blows were not very strong.

Little Fu dropped the baseball bat and squatted down next to the airplane.

The plane was still struggling to get up, its eyes bloodshot, staring intently at Xiao Fu.

"Brother Fu, what do we do next?" Ah Zhong walked over and glanced at the plane, whose ear was bleeding and whose consciousness was blurred.

"Throw it into the sea to feed the fish?" Ah Yi pulled out a roll of yellow industrial tape from his lower back, skillfully tore off a piece, and the "ripping" sound of the tape being torn apart was particularly jarring in the silence.

For them, dealing with such situations is commonplace.

When I first started working with Lin Yaodong, this situation usually involved packing, securing heavy objects, and sinking into the sea – a smooth and efficient process.