Hong Kong film: Rise of Prison Break

This seemingly casual remark stirred up even more complex emotions in Liao Zhiwei's heart.

When joining a gang and leading followers, the most effective strategy is always to win hearts and minds, directly targeting the opponent's deepest desires or fears; only then comes monetary benefits; and lastly, the illusory brotherhood of the underworld.

Zhang Wenjie clearly understands this principle well.

By consuming some "mysterious means" (Liao Zhiwei understands this as some kind of costly secret technique or technology), he can be given a reborn appearance and get rid of the brand-like marks of the past.

This "gratitude" and the "ability" demonstrated are far more effective in winning people's hearts than simply giving money.

"Yes, boss! I got it!" Liao Zhiwei nodded vigorously, composed himself, took out a mobile phone from his pocket, and started dialing.

Zhang Wenjie then squatted down in the spot where Liao Zhiwei had been sitting, mimicking his actions as he watched the busy ants in the corner, as if it were some interesting sight.

In fact, he also took out his mobile phone and dialed a number.

The call was answered quickly.

"Hey, Ah Xiong," Zhang Wenjie's voice became casual, with an unquestionable tone, "Bring the people you trust and get to work. Prepare to 'arrest' that escaped bastard and his 'accomplices'."

On the other end of the phone, in the staff break room of Stanley Prison, Chung Cho-hung was sitting with his legs crossed, a cigarette dangling from his mouth, and a cup of hot tea in his hand.

Hearing Zhang Wenjie's words, he pursed his lips: "I know, I know, you're rushing me! Did you handle the reporters?"

"My reporters are all ready, all those cameras and microphones are waiting for you to show up." Zhang Wenjie's tone remained unchanged. "Remember, if you're going to put on an act, do it properly. Don't come out unscathed and make a fool of yourself. Enough talk, bring your men over here now! You know the address."

"Damn it! Being the boss is all that great!" Zhong Chuxiong cursed as he slammed the receiver back onto the landline.

He pinched the cigarette butt from the corner of his mouth with two fingers of his left hand, took a deep drag, exhaled a large cloud of smoke, and complained to Ma Zhixiong, who stood beside him like a shadow, "Damn it, this kid is getting better and better at ordering me around!"

Ma Zhixiong kept his eyes down, his expression completely calm. He knew very well who the real "boss" was, whose words he had to heed, and whose words he could ignore.

As for what personal opinions his superior might have about Zhang Wenjie?

He chooses to let things go in one ear and out the other, listening and then forgetting, never getting involved.

"Xiongzai," Zhong Chuxiong stood up, patted his crisp uniform, and twirled in front of Ma Zhixiong, "Look at my clothes, how's that? Impressive enough? Don't I look like a model correctional officer about to be bravely wounded and capture a fugitive?"

Ma Zhixiong's face showed a suitable hint of confusion: "???"

"Sigh!" Chung Chu-hsiung sighed in exasperation, walked back to his desk, opened a drawer, and took out a simple set of cosmetic supplies—blood plasma packs, foundation, eyebrow pencil, and the like.

"Don't be so dense! How will you be a manager in the future? How will you climb the ladder?"

He quickly started applying lotion to his face and arms in front of the mirror.

Soon, several realistic "scars" and "bloodstains" appeared on his face and uniform. Combined with his deliberately messy hair and clothes, he really looked like he had been through a "fight".

"After today, it'll be hard for your brother Xiong to be poor even if he wanted to!"

As Zhong Chuxiong made final adjustments to his "injuries," he spoke to Ma Zhixiong with a hint of barely suppressed excitement and anticipation in his voice.

"This outfit, and this spot of mine, might be reserved for you to wear in the future! This is also... what Brother Jie wanted."

He specifically mentioned Zhang Wenjie's name.

"Following us, I can't guarantee you'll become incredibly wealthy, but we can ensure your future is secure and that you'll have whatever you want!"

Ma Zhixiong's face immediately lit up with a perfectly balanced expression of gratitude, excitement, and loyalty, and he nodded repeatedly: "Thank you so much for your promotion, Brother Xiong! Thank you so much for your care, Brother Jie! I will definitely do my best!"

Chung Chu-hsiung was very pleased with this flattering manner.

The two quickly packed up, checked their sidearms and police equipment, and then strode out of the room to assemble a trusted team of correctional officers who had already received instructions and were waiting at the prison gate.

---

Meanwhile, in the warden's office at Stanley Prison.

The atmosphere, however, was quite different from the tense and noisy outside, appearing rather subtle.

Warden Liang sat upright behind his large desk, his fingers tapping unconsciously on the gleaming surface, his face expressionless.

Opposite him sat Robinson, dressed in a blue and white striped prison uniform, yet still with his legs crossed, a small cigar in his hand, looking completely at ease.

Despite being in a prison cell, Robinson's aura of authority, honed by years of experience and the trials of life, remained strong, even subtly overshadowing that of Warden Liang, who was in uniform and represented the law.

"While I personally deeply admire Mr. Robinson's outstanding contributions to society and the economy," Warden Liang began slowly, his voice steady and businesslike, "and... I am very grateful for Mr. Robinson's words of encouragement when I was promoted. However..."

He abruptly changed the subject, his gaze sharpening: "Personal relationships are personal relationships, and the law is the law. I, Liang, have earned my position here through hard work and struggle within the correctional system, step by step. It wasn't just because of a big shot's casual remark back then. Mr. Lu is now a prisoner awaiting trial, and there are some rules I cannot break."

His words were veiled in barbs, both indicating that he didn't owe Robinson too much of a favor and implying that his current status wasn't entirely due to Robinson.

"Hehe..." Upon hearing this, Robinson not only did not get angry, but instead chuckled softly.

He flicked the ash off his small cigar with a relaxed gesture, as if he were simply receiving a guest in his own study.

"When a tiger is down on its luck, even dogs will bully it; when a tree falls, the monkeys scatter. The fickleness of human relationships and the coldness of the world are simply human nature. Warden Liang's ability to speak frankly is more reassuring than those hypocrites outside."

As he spoke, he reached his free right hand into the inside pocket of his prison uniform, fumbled around for a moment, and then slowly pulled out a neatly folded check.

He held the check between two fingers, gently pressing it against the smooth tabletop, then used his wrist to slowly and steadily push the check toward Warden Liang across the desk.

"Here is a cash check for ten million Hong Kong dollars. HSBC cashier's check, payable on demand."

Robinson's voice was not loud, but every word was clear.

"I think Mr. Leung is very busy with official duties and has devoted himself to maintaining the security of Hong Kong. Surely he wouldn't refuse such a small and insignificant 'gift' from an elderly, widowed man like myself who is nearing the end of his life?"

Warden Liang's eyelids twitched almost imperceptibly.

His gaze fell on the thin check on the table, as if he could see through the paper to the long string of zeros that made his heart race.

He didn't go to take it immediately. Instead, he raised his head and re-examined the old man opposite him, who had spent most of his life in the business world and was now a prisoner, yet still remained calm and composed. His eyes were full of scrutiny and incomprehension.