Hong Kong film: Rise of Prison Break

He gently raised his left hand, his five fingers flicking gracefully in the air, as if conducting a silent symphony.

One of the men standing behind the door started moving.

He had somehow produced a short, sturdy jujube wood stick in his hand, and without warning, he swung it down hard at the side of Golden Finger's right knee!

"Snap—!!!"

A sharp, teeth-grinding cracking sound suddenly exploded in the confined space, drowning out all other subtle noises.

"Aaaaaahh ...

The golden finger let out a shrill, distorted scream, and the beer bottle slipped from its grasp and shattered on the ground with a "bang".

He instantly lost his balance, clutching his right leg which was bent at an odd angle, and rolled to the ground. His body convulsed violently from the excruciating pain, veins bulged on his forehead, and cold sweat instantly soaked his clothes.

"What a...pleasant voice."

Liu Yaozu closed his eyes, tilted his ear slightly, as if appreciating beautiful music, and continued to play the rhythm in the air with his left hand.

Then, he opened his eyes and looked at Qian Wendi's face, trying to see fear, collapse, or anger on the face of this skilled cheater who was said to be quite daring.

However, Qian Wendi's reaction surprised him somewhat.

Qian Wendi did not show the dramatic emotional fluctuations that Liu Yaozu had anticipated.

He didn't even look at his partner who was groaning in pain on the ground; his eyes were fixed on Lily, who was being threatened with a dagger.

Their eyes met briefly in the air. Lili's eyes were filled with fear and pleading, while Qian Wendi's eyes held a suppressed coldness and a hint of barely perceptible reassurance.

"Mr. Liu," Qian Wendi looked at Liu Yaozu again, her voice more steady than before, "you are rich and powerful, a man who does big business. Duan Ran wouldn't... really go to such lengths, coming to my door in person, just to catch a petty swindler like me, would he?"

The amusement in Liu Yaozu's eyes deepened.

He slowly sheathed the dagger and casually tossed it onto the coffee table beside him with a clatter.

He pushed away the stiff Lili as if she were an insignificant object.

"To be caught cheating in my place, Liu Yaozu's, venue, and still be able to negotiate with me without batting an eye..."

Liu Yaozu stood up, straightened his crisp suit cuffs, and walked over to Qian Wendi with a leisurely, slightly hunched gait.

He was slightly taller than Wendi Qian, and at that moment he exuded a sense of oppressive superiority.

"Qian Wendi, you're quite a talent."

He paused, lit a cigar, and the smoke slowly rose: "According to the rules, getting caught cheating means having your hand chopped off, which is the least of your worries. But I admire your courage and your... composure under pressure."

He exhaled a smoke ring, the smoke hitting Qian Wendi's face: "How about this, you do me a favor. If you do it, our 'misunderstanding' will be forgotten. I'll pay for your brother's leg treatment. And the money you won last night... no, the money you 'took' will be wiped clean too. How about it?"

Qian Wendi's expression remained largely unchanged, but his breathing subtly slowed and lengthened in an instant, unnoticed by anyone.

Having demands means having a way to survive.

Where there is hope, there is a chance for things to turn around.

Compared to having your hands cut off immediately, or having your legs broken like Golden Finger, an unknown mission at least represents room for maneuver.

"Mr. Liu, please feel free to ask if you need anything," Qian Wendi said, lowering his eyes and becoming submissive. "As long as it's within my power."

"Very good!" Liu Yaozu patted his shoulder, quite firmly. "Those who understand the times... are wise. What I want you to do is simple in theory..."

He leaned close to Wendi Qian's ear, lowered his voice, and said, word by word, "I want you to go to jail."

……

Stanley Prison, exercise yard.

At 10 a.m., the sun was shining brightly, but the concrete ground beneath the high walls and electric fences still exuded a chilling and oppressive atmosphere that was hard to shake off.

The prisoners, dressed in gray-blue uniforms, were scattered throughout the square like sheep being let out to roam. Some squatted against the wall to bask in the sun, some whispered in small groups, and some were doing simple exercise.

Zhang Wenjie was alone, squatting in a shady corner at the edge of the playground.

From here, you can avoid most of the line of sight while still observing the activity across the entire square.

He had a cigarette dangling from his mouth—to satisfy his craving, he habitually removed the filter and smoked the tobacco directly.

He took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled two thick, straight plumes of smoke from his nostrils, like the breath of a dragon.

His gaze, seemingly casually sweeping across the entire scene, was actually like a precise radar, ultimately locking onto a group of people not far away.

That was a remnant of the Hung Hing Party, with Big Mimi at its core.

Da Mi herself sat on a dilapidated bench that had been moved from somewhere, her right leg in a thick cast and fixed with a wooden board. She was carefully carried by two equally bruised and swollen men to a place where the sun was shining directly.

His face was ashen, his eyes were sinister, and he stared intently in Zhang Wenjie's direction, the hatred in his eyes almost turning into a tangible knife flying towards him.

He was surrounded by seven or eight wounded prisoners with fierce expressions, who also cast venomous glances at Zhang Wenjie from time to time.

Meanwhile, in the relatively "comfortable" shade on the other side of the square, Silly Biao, the boss of Warehouse No. 2, was sitting comfortably on a stone bench that his underlings had specially wiped for him.

He squinted, enjoying a moderately firm shoulder massage from one of his underlings behind him, probably humming a tuneless little tune.

He was surrounded by several confidants, among whom was Jin Yayao, a man with blond hair and a fawning expression.

Jin Yayao fiddled with a matchstick in his hand, but his eyes kept glancing at Zhang Wenjie in the corner, his face showing obvious surprise and curiosity.

He leaned closer to Stupid Biao, lowered his voice, and said in what he thought was a volume only the two of them could hear, "Brother Biao, is that the East Star Red Stick who swept through Warehouse Number One last night? He looks... just so-so, squatting there like a quail. Brother Biao, you're a force to be reckoned with in Stanley, why doesn't he... come and show his respect?"

Sha Biao paused slightly in his massage, not even lifting his eyelids, and snorted through his nose, "Are you teaching me how to do things?"

Jin Yayao's heart skipped a beat, and he quickly forced a smile: "Hey... Boss, how could I dare..."

"If you wouldn't dare, why are you asking?"

Sha Biao suddenly opened his eyes, his previously blissful expression instantly turning into one of anger. He glared at Jin Ya Yao, "Have you eaten too much red bean paste (brain)? You're so stupid!"

He bent his right index and middle fingers into a "thump" shape and unceremoniously raised his hand to tap Jin Yayao's slick, golden hair on the top of his head with a "thud".

"Ouch!" Jin Yayao clutched his head, wincing in pain, but dared not flinch, and could only continue to feign ignorance and laugh awkwardly.

"When you go to a temple to worship a god, have you ever seen a god worship a little devil?" Sha Biao seemed to get angrier as he spoke, and he held up the two fingers that had just hit the man and waved them in front of Jin Ya Yao's eyes.