Hong Kong variety show: The mastermind behind the scenes is emerging.

In an old but elegant villa on the edge of Sham Shui Po, the air was heavy, as if it were filled with lead.

This villa was rented by the "Five Lucky Stars" together. On weekdays, it was always filled with the ramblings of monk fruit, the twisted theories of rehmannia, and the endless arguments about rhinoceros hide and American ginseng. That noisy mix of tobacco, leftover takeout, and men's sweat was the soul of this house.

But tonight, the lobby on the first floor was eerily quiet. Only the room at the far end of the second floor emitted a dim and lonely light—that was Partridge's room.

At this moment, the ever-unreliable "lucky star" leader was curled up in a wicker chair by the French windows, like a collapsed hill. He was draped in a pilling blanket and clutched a nearly empty bottle of brandy tightly in his hand. His usually smooth, round face was now somewhat red and swollen due to the effects of alcohol and extreme grief.

His other hand was tightly clutching a photograph, its edges slightly curled from repeated handling. It was taken in front of the Western District Police Station—Chen Jiaju, wearing his crisp but somewhat cramped police uniform, was grimacing as he tried to handcuff Partridge next to him; while Partridge in the photo looked disgusted, pushing Chen Jiaju's face with her large, fat hand.

Looking at the photo of the two people, who seemed to dislike each other yet secretly happy, Partridge felt as if he had a wad of cotton soaked in bitter medicine stuck in his throat. Tears welled up in his eyes, eventually dripping down his chubby cheeks and onto the plastic film of the photo.

"You bastard... Chan Ka-kui, you're truly a hopeless, hopeless bastard..."

Partridge let out a hiccup, her voice hoarse, and muttered curses at the empty room.

"I told you a long time ago not to be a lousy cop, but you wouldn't listen. It's dangerous, and you don't earn any money. All you do is talk about upholding justice, what a load of rubbish! Now look what happened! You're buried alive in a rubble field, and there's not even anyone to collect your body. Look at you, after all these years, you still haven't married Amei, and you haven't even left a child. You just kicked the bucket like that. Who do you think you are?"

As he spoke, he suddenly let out a self-deprecating laugh and took another big gulp of brandy.

"If you had been willing to become a thief with me back then, with our skills, all the safes on Hong Kong Island would have been like paper. We could have made enough money, bought a farm in Hawaii, and sunbathed and fished every day, wouldn't that have been great? What were you after...?"

In Partridge's heart, Chan Ka-kui was always a troublesome friend who gave her a lot of headaches.

The two grew up together in an orphanage, and later performed acrobatics together in a theater. Ka-Kui, being strong, always managed to protect Partridge from the older kids. But as they grew up, fate played a cruel joke: one became a policeman, the other a habitual thief. After becoming a cop, Ka-Kui, in his pursuit of high performance targets, often dragged Partridge back to the station to eat curry rice. Their encounters were always marked by fights and insults, but whenever Partridge faced a truly insurmountable obstacle, or when Ka-Kui was attacked by gangsters while investigating a case, the first to rush in and fight was always the other.

This kind of brotherhood, where brothers risk their lives for each other, is rarer than gold in the cold concrete jungle of Hong Kong Island.

"Ka-Kui, if you ever run out of money down there, remember to tell me in a dream." Partridge shook the wine bottle, her eyes glazed as she looked out at the churning dark clouds. "Although I'm a bit short on cash lately, I can still manage to burn a few paper replicas of beautiful women and sports cars for you... Don't be so foolish in your next life."

Just as Partridge was immersed in this almost desperate sorrow and was about to open another bottle of wine to drown her sorrows, a crisp click sounded from the window behind her.

A sudden gust of cold wind swept in, scattering the photos on the table and making Partridge shiver.

"Damn it, this broken window is broken again..."

Partridge stood up, cursing and swaying from the alcohol. He staggered toward the window, reaching out to grab the old handle.

However, just as he reached the window and was about to reach out, a dark shadow suddenly dropped down from above the window frame without warning, hovering directly in front of his face.

"!!!"

Partridge's breathing stopped completely at that moment.

By the dim light inside the room and the occasional flashes of lightning, he could make out the face.

It was a face as white as paper, devoid of any color. Even more terrifying was the fact that its eyes had no pupils, only lifeless whites. The distorted makeup, reeking of decay, appeared particularly grotesque in the cold night wind.

What devastated Partridge was that the outline of this "ghost face" looked exactly like Chen Jiaju, whom he had been thinking about day and night and had just been talking about.

"Partridge... I died such a terrible death..."

"Chen Jiaju" spoke softly, his voice ethereal yet mournful, carrying a chilling tremor that echoed in the silent night.

"Jia... Jiaju?!" Partridge was so frightened that her legs went weak, and she collapsed to the ground, the brandy bottle slipping from her hand. "You... you stay away! I may have scolded you, but I'll burn paper money for you tomorrow! I'll burn your mansion! I'll burn your private jet!"

"I don't want the plane... I want your gold watch..."

As "Ghost Face" spoke, his pale hands began to grip the windowsill, and his entire body, in an extremely bizarre posture, as if boneless, slowly climbed over the window to try and enter the house.

"I'll burn it for you! I'll burn it all for you! Please don't take me with you!"

Partridge let out a terrifying scream, the deep-seated fear instantly overpowering the alcohol. He no longer cared about brotherhood; instinctively, he grabbed a thermos filled with hot water from the side and smashed it with all his might against the ghostly face that had crawled in.

"I'll send you back to the underworld!"

"Bang!"

The thermos hit that face with perfect accuracy on the forehead, making a dull thud.

"Awooo—!"

A heart-wrenching scream, filled with a human-like pain, instantly shattered the terrifying atmosphere that had just been created.

The pale, lifeless ghost face was jerked backward by the heavy blow, and the originally mournful trembling voice instantly turned into familiar profanities.

"Ouch! You fatso, Partridge! Are you trying to kill me?! You're scalding me!"

The "ghost" was seen rubbing a large bump on its forehead, frantically shaking its hands in pain. After a series of violent blinks, its originally white eyeballs suddenly appeared as if contact lenses had fallen out, revealing Chen Jiaju's pair of bright, intelligent, and angry black eyes filled with pain.

"Stop hitting me! Stop hitting me! I'm alive! I'm the living Chan Ka Kui!"

Ignoring the redness and swelling on his forehead, Chen Jiaju quickly reached out to protect his head and shouted frantically at Partridge, who was about to grab the table lamp to launch a second attack.

Partridge was stunned. Holding the lamp, his chest heaving, he stared blankly at the man in front of him who was frantically blowing on the back of his hand that had been scalded by hot water.

"Chen...Chen Jiaju?"

……

Ten minutes later, in the living room of the villa.

Luo Han Guo, Da Sheng Di, Rhinoceros Hide, and American Ginseng were sitting around with wicked grins on their faces. Chen Jiaju, on the other hand, was being pushed in by the group in a borrowed wheelchair.

"Hahaha, that's hilarious! When Partridge was yelling just now, I thought a slaughterhouse had started operating!" Luo Han Guo rubbed his stomach, which ached from laughing, and gave Chen Jiaju a thumbs up. "Jiaju, your wire work was amazing. It was worth all the time we spent standing in the cold wind on the rooftop."

Da Shengdi slapped his thigh and chimed in, "That's right! When we heard that Jiaju was going to prank you, we joined in without hesitation. After all, we don't get many chances to see you, Partridge, scared to death."

Partridge was sitting to the side, clutching a hot towel tightly in her hand. She was still a little dazed as she looked at Chan Ka-kui, who was sitting in a wheelchair, his body wrapped in bandages, but whose eyes were still bright.

"You...you're really not dead?"

Partridge stepped forward, cautiously reached out, and pinched Chen Jiaju's arm hard.

"Ouch—! Be gentle! I'm badly injured and haven't fully recovered yet!" Chen Jiaju winced in pain, slapping his hand away. "You fat bastard, you really hit me hard just now. If I hadn't dodged quickly, you would have sent me to meet Guan Yu by now."

Upon confirming the other person's warm body temperature and recognizing that familiar, mischievous friend's scent, Partridge's eyes welled up with tears again, but this time, his face was etched with extreme disgust and anger.

"Chen Jiaju! Are you sick in the head?! Are you out of your mind?!" Partridge suddenly jumped up and roared at Chen Jiaju in his wheelchair, "Don't you know that scaring someone can kill them?! My blood pressure just rose to at least 280!"

"Hehe, it's all for the mission, isn't it?" Chen Jiaju scratched his head awkwardly, which aggravated the swelling on his forehead, causing him to gasp for breath again. "Actually, I came here this time with a huge mission that I need the help of you 'Five Lucky Stars'. I wanted to test that makeup on you earlier, to see if my makeup skills as a 'dead person' could fool the eyes of those we know. But it looks like it worked remarkably well."

"No way! Get lost!" Partridge Vegetable sat back down in her seat, turning her head away in a huff. "I never want to deal with a deadbeat cop like you again in my life. You never come to me with anything good. Last time I went to Malaysia to get that ledger, I almost lost my life."

Chen Jiaju wasn't angry; he knew these brothers too well. He cleared his throat, a sly glint in his eyes, and his tone became incredibly seductive.

"Partridge, don't rush to refuse. This mission is different from those small-scale operations we've done before. It's not only a great thing for the country and the people, and it will help our police force vent its anger, but also..." Chen Jiaju paused deliberately, holding up three fingers and waving them, "...the reward is substantial. The big boss behind the scenes who rescued me said that if this succeeds, the resettlement allowance he'll give you guys will be enough to buy this villa, and each of you will get a brand-new Mazda."

Partridge, who had been pretending to be uninterested, perked up with her ears when she heard the words "generous reward".

He coughed, casually straightened his collar, turned around, and asked in a low voice, "Um... exactly how much expensive? Ka-Kui, you know, our schedules are packed lately. If it's going to those dirty and chaotic places, we're very principled."

"Don't worry, you don't need to go into battle this time. Just do what you're used to."

Looking at his friends, whose eyes were already shining with excitement, Chen Jiaju smiled knowingly. He beckoned to Partridge Vegetable, signaling him to come closer.

Then, next to that big ear, Chen Jiaju spoke quickly and in a low voice that only the two of them could hear, uttering a series of breathtaking plans.

As Partridge listened, her eyes, which had been somewhat dull due to the alcohol, gradually became extremely bright, even revealing a kind of "excitement" madness.

"You mean...we're going to take down the Ni family..."

"Shh—!" Chen Jiaju made a shushing gesture, his eyes turning extremely cold and sharp. "This time, we're going to put on a real 'ghost knocking on the door' show!"