We agreed on the twelve zodiac animals, but you've transformed into the Monkey King?

At the same time, at Gonghexiang Wharf.

Seventeen-year-old Ah Jiu, the youngest son, was hiding in a corner of Warehouse No. 4. He had just received two brand-new silver dollars.

He put the silver dollar in his mouth and bit down hard on the edge. Looking at the clear teeth marks on it, Ah Jiu grinned foolishly. He tucked the silver dollar into his pocket, clutching it tightly, planning to get some good medicine for his mother who was suffering from tuberculosis when he changed shifts in the afternoon, and then go to the braised food stall on the street corner to get half a pound of pig's head meat.

"drop--!!!"

The sharp, urgent sound of a French police whistle shattered the tranquility above the dock.

"Bang!"

Six large black trucks bearing the license plates of the French Concession Police Department smashed through the outer wooden fence of Gonghexiang. Hundreds of fully armed Annamese policemen, with bayonets fixed to their rifles, surged in like a pack of wolves.

"Police are on duty! Everyone stay put!"

The French police chief led his men straight to warehouse number four, where Ah Jiu was located. Without any preamble, the chief kicked over the broken wooden crate that Ah Jiu was using as a seat.

With a "whoosh".

The wooden crate's inner lining broke, and two packages of high-purity opium, tightly wrapped in oil paper, rolled straight down into the muddy water.

"Someone reported Gonghexiang for smuggling opium, and he's been caught red-handed!" the French police chief arrogantly announced in broken Chinese. "Seal off the entire area! Cuff the ringleader!"

Ah Jiu was completely stunned. He stared at the opium on the ground, shaking his head frantically and backing away repeatedly: "It's not mine! Fifth Master made a strict rule that we never touch opium! This is a frame-up! A frame-up!"

The French police chief sneered, swung his rifle, and smashed the butt of the rifle hard into Ah Jiu's mouth.

"Bang!"

Ah Jiu's teeth shattered, and with a scream, he collapsed into the muddy water. The two silver coins he had just warmed rolled out of his arms and landed beside the French sheriff's boots.

Ajiu instinctively reached out, wanting to grab the two yuan.

"Click."

The French police chief, wearing hard-soled military boots, stomped hard on Ah Jiu's hand. The sound of breaking bones, mixed with Ah Jiu's scream, drifted far from the warehouse.

With bloodshot eyes, Chen Jinbiao led several hundred of his men, raising iron hooks and machetes, ready to charge forward and fight to the death.

"Click-click-click—" Hundreds of rifles were simultaneously cocked, their dark muzzles pointed at the Hongmen brothers.

"Uncle Biao! Don't move!"

Ah Jiu was pinned down in the mud by two Annamese policemen. Tears mingled with blood streamed down her face as she screamed vehemently at Chen Jinbiao:

"Don't move! If you move... the entire organization will be gone! Fifth Master's life's work will be gone!"

The French police chief spat contemptuously on the ground: "Take him away. Seize the dock."

Ah Jiu was dragged toward the truck. Only a long trail of blood remained on the ground, along with two pieces of his hard-earned money, deeply embedded in the mud.

Chen Jinbiao's eyes were bloodshot, and the veins on the back of his hand, which was gripping a machete, were bulging.

As soon as he swung his sword, his five hundred brothers would swarm him. But he also knew that flesh and blood couldn't stop the French guns. Five hundred brothers would die in the mud, and the dock that Fifth Master had just reclaimed, the promised resettlement allowance, and the way out would all vanish.

Chen Jinbiao took a deep breath, his eye muscles twitching.

Clang.

He threw the heavy machete into the mud.

"Uncle Biao!" The brothers behind him exclaimed, their eyes red with tears.

"What's with the wailing? The sky isn't going to fall."

Chen Jinbiao didn't turn around. He unbuttoned his short-sleeved shirt, ripped it off, revealing the Guan Gong tattoo on his bronze chest, and strode towards the French police chief, facing hundreds of gun barrels.

"Sir," Chen Jinbiao said calmly. "I'm a senior member of Gong Hexiang's gang, and I'm in charge of this dock. Those two packets of opium were something I secretly hid behind Fifth Master's and the brothers' backs to earn some extra money. It has nothing to do with the gang."

The French police chief squinted at the burly man who was half a head taller than him.

Chen Jinbiao stretched out his hands, wrists together: "According to the rules, I'll go back to the police station with you for 'tea.' Our branch will pay the full amount of the bail money to Great France. Release that young man, and I'll go with you."

"Click".

The cold, heavy handcuffs were locked onto Chen Jinbiao's wrists.

Several Annamese policemen stepped forward and slammed their rifle butts into Chen Jinbiao's knees. Chen Jinbiao groaned, kneeling on one knee in the mud, but stubbornly straightening his back.

He was roughly dragged up and shoved into the black prison van. Before getting in, Chen Jinbiao looked back at the four towering Class A warehouses, then at Ajiu lying in the mud.

Chen Jinbiao grinned at Ajiu, "Take your two silver dollars and go get your mother's medicine. While you're at it, go to the street corner and cut up half a pound of pig's head meat. Tonight, when I get out of the police station, I'll come back to the branch and have a drink with you."

Ah Jiu knelt blankly in the mud, watching Chen Jinbiao's receding figure.

"Okay... Uncle Biao, I'll cut up some large intestine for you!"

The car doors slammed shut, and it sped away, leaving behind a mess and five hundred stunned laborers.

……

2 PM, Xiafei Road Apartment.

In the living room, soothing Western music flowed from the gramophone. Wen Xiao leaned back on the sofa, a drawing by Aman between his fingers. He casually pulled a cheap piece of candy from his suit pocket, unwrapped it, and popped it into his mouth.

I can't remember when I started to like this cheap sweetness.

"Bang!"

The sound of the door being kicked open shattered the brief moment of tranquility.

Sister Yuan strode into the living room. Her pretty face was deathly pale, and her chest heaved violently.

"What's wrong? Why are you in such a hurry?" Wen Xiao said, a piece of candy pressed between her teeth.

"Wen Xiao..." Sister Yuan's voice trembled, "Uncle Biao is in trouble. The French police... just sent back the news. That beast Pierre has no intention of releasing him. He said that if Gong Hexiang dares to take the smuggling route, he'll have to pay with his life..."

Wen Xiao stood up: "Gong Hexiang's path can be cleared, but what about Uncle Biao?"

"He didn't spit it out. He endured three hours of torture in the police station's basement." Sister Yuan closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and said, "Now... he's hanging outside the iron gate of the French Concession."

"Crunch."

Wen Xiao bit the fruit candy in her mouth.

[System Notification: The third authority node has been triggered: French Concession Police Station Branch.]

[Node Status: Extremely Hostile.]

The system panel on his retina was flashing wildly, and the Sumeru Points were blinking, but he only felt that the blue light was extremely dazzling and disgusting.

He suddenly stood up, and because he stood up so quickly, the coffee table in front of him was overturned, and bone china teacups shattered all over the floor.

"Fifth Master! Calm down!" Sister Yuan rushed up to pull him away.

He was expressionless.

"Prepare the car."

"Go pick up my uncle."

……

Outside the iron gate at the border between the Chinese-controlled area and the French Concession.

The pale winter sun shone coldly on the dirty streets. A light rain began to fall.

Outside the iron gate, there were no longer ordinary onlookers. A full five hundred shirtless laborers, a dark mass, blocked the entire street. They gripped iron hooks and machetes, and every one of them had bloodshot eyes.

Inside the iron gate, sandbags were piled high. The Annamese police of the French Concession set up two heavy Maxim machine guns, their dark muzzles pointed at the group of Chinese coolies who could go berserk at any moment.

Wen Xiao pushed open the car door and walked into the crowd.

The Hongmen brothers, who were about to erupt like a volcano, spontaneously stepped aside the moment they saw Wen Xiao, making way for the front.

"Fifth Master!" Countless low growls, suppressed with grief and indignation, rose and fell among the crowd.

Wen Xiao walked step by step to the front. He raised his head and looked at the tall utility pole outside the iron gate.

Chen Jinbiao was hanging upside down there.

His entire body was covered in wounds, and the curved Guan Yu sword on his chest was obscured by blood and mud. His ten crushed fingers hung limply, swaying like tassels in the cold wind.

Wen Xiao took off his black trench coat, stepped on the sandbags outside the iron gate, and reached out to cover Chen Jinbiao's mangled head with the trench coat.