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

A pale white dawn appeared on the horizon; the winter rain that had fallen all night had finally stopped.

On the bluestone pavement of Shiliupu, rainwater mixed with the still-dry black ink meandered into the sewer.

"Breaking News! Breaking News! The evidence is overwhelming that the tycoon of Qingmen colluded with Japanese pirates to traffic opium!"

"Breaking News! Zhang Sulin betrays his compatriots; a true traitor has surfaced!"

Ah Jiu was shirtless, his eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep. Hundreds of laborers from Gonghexiang pulled carts loaded with newspapers through the streets and alleys.

Bundles of the Shen Bao extra edition, like snowflakes, crashed into the newly awakened long street.

On a street corner, steam rose from a soy milk stall draped in an oilcloth canopy. A copy of a special edition newspaper, tossed casually over, landed on the corner of the table.

Customer A, a middle-aged man wearing a melon-shaped hat, glanced at the bold, large characters above and suddenly slapped his thigh: "I knew it! What kind of good guy could Zhang Sulin be?! He's the real traitor, the one who's in cahoots with the Japanese!"

A customer next to him, who was eating half a fried dough stick, immediately chimed in with a heartfelt agreement: "I said something was wrong yesterday. What kind of person is that constable named Wen Laowu? How could he be qualified to betray the country? It must have been Boss Zhang who pushed him out to take the blame."

"What a damn beast! Let's go! After we finish eating, let's go to the Zhang mansion and curse this traitorous dog!"

Under the tarpaulin awning, the crowd was filled with indignation. There was no truth, only perspective.

Ajiu was passing by, pulling an empty cart. Yesterday, this group of people were cursing Fifth Master as a dog, but today they've transformed into the vanguard of denouncing Zhang Sulin.

"Bang!"

A muffled thud.

An old gentleman wearing a faded long gown slammed a rough porcelain teacup heavily onto the table.

"You spout righteousness and morality, but your hearts are full of petty scheming and despicable acts." The old man stood up. "Yesterday, you were the ones smashing shops with torches and cursing Detective Wen as a traitor. Today, the wind has shifted, and you're the ones cursing Zhang Sulin. You're just using 'patriotism' as a pretext to vent the anger and resentment oppressed by this cannibalistic world! When it really comes down to fighting foreigners with bayonets, you'll be the first to run!"

The diners' faces turned pale, then red. Diner B, enraged, yelled, "You old geezer, what are you pretending to be so high and mighty for..."

The old man ignored the group and turned around. He walked out of the tarpaulin awning and went straight to Ah Jiu's cart.

His eyes reddened as he looked at Ah Jiu's face covered in ink and the scratches on his forehead from the machine gun fire the day before.

He took out two heavy silver dollars from the inner pocket of his long gown and placed them on the cart.

"Sir, the extra edition is free..." Ah Jiu was stunned and hurriedly tried to push the silver dollar back.

"Take this. This isn't money for newspapers, it's money for incense and candles for the brothers who died on the streets of Nanshi yesterday." The old man pressed Ah Jiu's hand down.

"We neighbors all heard the gunfire on the streets of Nanshi yesterday." The old man straightened up, his voice resounding in the cold morning wind. "A man who would brave the warlords' machine guns to retrieve his own brother's body has a spine of iron! Such a man would never become a dog for foreigners!"

The old man folded the extra edition neatly and tucked it into his pocket.

"It's because this world is too corrupt, so corrupt that true heroes have been wronged."

After saying that, the old man turned and walked into the morning mist.

Ah Jiu stood there, stunned, clutching the two warm silver dollars in her hand. Tears washed away the ink on her face, leaving clear tear tracks.

Ah Jiu suddenly realized that what Fifth Master was protecting was never those onlookers who followed the wind, but rather wise people like the old man, who remained clear-headed and upright even on this ravaged land.

"Brothers!" Ah Jiu wiped away his tears. "Pull the cart! Deliver the truth to the enlightened people of Shanghai!"

……

At the border between France and China, Zhang Sulin's mansion stands.

"Down with the traitor Zhang Sulin!"

"Severely punish the traitors! Eradicate the disgrace of the Green Gate!"

The imposing black lacquered gate outside the mansion was now being pounded with countless rotten vegetable leaves, rotten eggs, and stones, creating a deafening roar. The thugs from the Qingmen gang, who had been searching the streets for Gong Hexiang's laborers just last night, were now looking as if they had lost their parents.

In the study on the second floor of the mansion.

"Bang!"

A priceless Qianlong famille rose vase was smashed against the wall, shards of porcelain scattering all over the floor.

Zhang Sulin's face was ashen, and his chest heaved violently.

"Wen Laowu...you bastard Wen Laowu! How dare you try to undermine me!" he roared through gritted teeth. "When I was a powerful figure in Shanghai, he was still eating shit in his mother's womb!"

He turned his head sharply and looked at the white officer sitting on the mahogany sofa.

The White officer lit a cigar, ignoring the shards of porcelain scattered on the ground and Zhang Sulin's fury.

"Lieutenant Bai!" Zhang Sulin strode up to him, placing his hands on the coffee table. "Send a telegram to Marshal Lu immediately! Tell him to transfer troops from Songjiang! Send a battalion... no, a regiment into the city! Shut down the Shenbao newspaper office! Arrest that bastard surnamed Wen and all those troublemaking students and execute them!"

The White officer took a puff of his cigar and blew thick smoke into Zhang Sulin's face.

"Boss Zhang," the White officer flicked his cigarette ash, "if you don't want to die fast enough, don't drag our Commander down with you."

Zhang Sulin was stunned, then his face darkened: "Deputy Officer Bai, what do you mean by that? I've been paying Marshal Lu nearly a million silver dollars in military pay every year! Now that I'm in trouble, does the Marshal intend to abandon me?!"

"Crossing the river and then burning the bridge?" The white officer's eyes revealed undisguised contempt. "Boss Zhang, Du Risheng was right about something: no matter how powerful you gangsters are, in the eyes of warlords, you're nothing more than chamber pots. Now that chamber pot is leaking and covered in excrement, do you think the Marshal will still shove you under the bed?"

Zhang Sulin was so angry that he laughed instead.

The White officer, holding a cigar between two fingers, pointed south. "Boss Zhang, you usually only focus on the tobacco business in the concession. Do you know what the big picture is now? Do you know what kind of place Longhua Town in Xuhui is?"

Zhang Sulin was taken aback by his question: "...Jiangnan Manufacturing Bureau Branch Factory".

"Not too stupid." The White officer stood up, walked to the window, and coldly watched the angry march below through the gap in the curtains.

"Qi Yuan's men, the Zhili warlords, are now loitering around Shanghai every day. A battle between the two rivers could break out at any moment! Whether Marshal Lu can hold onto Zhejiang Province and Shanghai depends entirely on the ammunition in the hands of He Fenglin, the military governor of Songhu!" The white officer turned around and stared intently at Zhang Sulin. "And whether the ammunition supply can be maintained depends entirely on the Jiangnan Manufacturing Bureau's branch factory operating day and night!"

Cold sweat broke out on Zhang Sulin's forehead.

The White officer approached step by step: "Right now, because of your filthy business of trafficking opium and colluding with the Japanese pirates, the entire city of Shanghai—workers, students, and ordinary citizens—is in an uproar! Do you know that this morning, several thousand arsenal workers at the manufacturing bureau were already showing signs of striking?!"

"Now you want me to deploy troops to suppress the students? To shut down newspapers?" The White Army officer looked at him as if he were already dead. "Are you trying to completely ignite the anger of the entire city against the military and the arsenal?! Once the manufacturing bureau stops production and the front lines are cut off, not only you, Zhang Sulin, but even I will be court-martialed!"