Hong Kong film: Rise of Prison Break

After the lottery was completed, the smoke in the small incense hall became even thicker.

Smiling Tiger raised his hand and offered Zhang Wenjie a cigarette. The scarlet flame danced in the dim light, reflecting on his perpetually smiling face.

Zhang Wenjie leaned slightly closer to the lighter, and the moment the cigarette was lit, he saw a fleeting glint of calculation in the smiling tiger's eyes.

"Ah Jie, right?" Smiling Tiger exhaled a smoke ring, patted him on the shoulder with just the right amount of pressure, "The boss will definitely not treat you unfairly!"

The smoke from cigarettes filled the space between the two of them.

Inside the incense hall was a statue of Guan Yu, the flickering candlelight casting a distorted shadow.

The corner was cluttered with miscellaneous items, and the air was filled with a mixture of the smell of incense, cigarette smoke, and a faint musty odor.

"There are plenty of our own people in Stanley Prison," Smiling Tiger lowered his voice, his tone seductive. "You work for the gang, so spend a year or two in there, and when you come out—" he drawled, gesturing with his finger, "I guarantee you'll be rich and powerful, and I'll reserve a high-ranking position for you in the gang!"

The gimmick described by the smiling tiger was nothing new to Zhang Wenjie.

He'd seen too many empty promises like this in his past life—all talk and no action when it came to cashing them.

"I'll do whatever the boss says!"

Zhang Wenjie lowered his head, letting the stray hairs on his forehead slightly cover his eyes.

The original owner's memories flipped through her mind like pages of a book—the Tung Sing gang, the Smiling Tiger, the Causeway Bay establishment, the chaotic brawl last month, the policeman lying in the ICU… Fragments of memory pieced together a clear picture: she was the scapegoat pushed out.

His tightly furrowed brows slowly relaxed, and when he looked up again, his face already wore the original owner's usual obedient and foolish expression. He even grinned at just the right moment, revealing a smile that was both ingratiating and simple-minded.

The smiling tiger carefully observed his expression, secretly pleased.

He had originally thought he would need to use coercion and bribery to achieve his goal, but he didn't expect his underling to be so sensible! He liked this kind of "sensible" underling the most.

When you're in a gang, you don't need to be exceptionally talented.

No matter how good a fighter is, can he withstand bullets?

Smiling Tiger firmly believed that the most important thing in the underworld was knowing how to lead subordinates.

Having many underlings is just icing on the cake; what's truly valuable are the loyal henchmen who can shield their boss from harm at crucial moments.

As for whether he has ambitions...

If you have no ambition, what's the point of joining a club?

The smiling tiger caught a glimpse of a deeply hidden sharp glint from beneath Zhang Wenjie's lowered eyelids.

Having ambition is good; an ambitious underling is a good underling.

Ambition is the reins; hold them in your hand, and they will be propelled forward.

If it weren't for that bastard Crow's reckless actions that caused such a huge mess and dragged me into it, I wouldn't have had to go through the whole life-or-death lottery.

What a pity, such a promising talent, and now he's going to be thrown into jail in Stanley...

Upon realizing this, the smile on the smiling tiger's face froze for a moment.

What do you mean by a year or two? That's just nonsense.

This time it was an attack on a police officer. The officer who was slashed is still lying in the ICU, his life hanging in the balance. And that damned reporter has been reporting on it extensively, causing a huge uproar.

There's no way to calm things down without handing someone over.

The underlings handed over are just cannon fodder.

But ordinary cannon fodder wasn't enough, and the meaningful look in the eyes of the guild leader when he assigned the task to him... made the smiling tiger's heart skip a beat.

Isn't that indirectly weakening your own power?

That damned old fox!

Zhang Wenjie looked at the ever-changing expression on the smiling tiger's face, and then glanced at the crumpled piece of paper in his hand—on which was written a glaring character "义" (righteousness) in red ink.

He slowly turned his head and looked at the other seven people who had not been chosen.

The seven people visibly breathed a sigh of relief, some even showing a smug, lucky look.

Meanwhile, the thin, dark-skinned old man, Amin, who had put down the tray, stood in the shadows with his hands hanging down, expressionless.

Zhang Wenjie understood everything.

I was carefully chosen to take the blame!

A surge of anger rose from the depths of his heart and rushed straight to his head.

He could almost see himself being handcuffed, pushed into a prison van, convicted in court, and then thrown into the dark and gloomy Stanley…

And these people in front of him, these so-called "brothers" and "bosses," will continue to indulge in debauchery and will soon forget that he even exists.

The more he thought about it, the angrier he became, and Zhang Wenjie felt a throbbing sensation in his temples.

He suppressed the turmoil in his heart, his feet curled up tightly in his worn-out leather shoes, his toes gripping the soles, using this subtle, unnoticed movement to vent his emotions.

On his face, however, he still maintained that foolish look of obedience, and his eyes even became more "devout".

"Amin! Get ready to open the sandalwood!" Smiling Tiger waved his hand, as if shaking off something unpleasant.

The dark-skinned, thin old man, Amin, responded and nimbly walked to the incense table.

Kai Tan is certainly not about exorcising evil spirits; if he had that kind of ability, why would he be involved in a gang?

This is to give Zhang Wenjie a promotion.

Taking the blame requires a certain status; that simple initiation ceremony was just a formality.

Now, the Smiling Tiger is going to give Zhang Wenjie a "thunderbolt from nowhere," directly demoting him to a Red Pole (a high-ranking criminal).

The position is too low; it's simply not enough to explain to the police, the gang leader, or the underworld.

Typically, one has to endure three to five years of service in the organization and make contributions before they can be promoted to a higher rank such as Straw Sandal, White Paper Fan, or Red Stick.

However, there is a special case: if a newcomer makes a "significant contribution" to the club, they can be promoted directly, which is called "a bolt from the blue".

What Zhang Wenjie is about to do is precisely this kind of "contribution".

Logically, a formal investiture ceremony requires at least three people to be simultaneously promoted to the positions of straw sandal, white paper fan, and red stick before the ceremony can begin.

Those large-scale events used to be very complicated and took several hours to complete, and they are rarely seen nowadays.

The second type of ceremony is called "plain drama," which simplifies the process and is directly handled by the person in charge of the temple.

As one of the Five Tigers of Tung Sing, Smiling Tiger found it very easy to recruit his underlings.

"Open the altar and lead the horses into the city."

Amin had taken off his coat and put on a slightly oversized white long shirt, with a red cloth tied around his forehead and two ribbons hanging down on his left side.

He walked to the incense table, picked up a wooden sword, and spoke in a hoarse but deliberately high-pitched voice: "Ten thousand troops cross the Second Plank Bridge, copper on the left and iron on the right, no difference. The Zhu family built the bridge, the Hong family crossed it, but this bridge belongs to outsiders. On the left, dragons, tigers, turtles, and snakes converge; on the right, carved beasts and contracts..."

The chanting echoed in the small incense hall, and together with the swirling smoke, it actually had a somewhat eerie sense of ritual.

The other seven people who weren't chosen watched with bated breath, their eyes filled with complex emotions.

The smiling tiger walked up to Zhang Wenjie, personally pinning a crudely made copper "Red Stick" badge to his collar, and patted his chest forcefully: "Ah Jie, since you've acknowledged me as your boss, I will definitely not treat you unfairly. I'm giving you a position now, a Red Stick! When you get out, you'll enjoy endless wealth and glory..."