Hong Kong film: Rise of Prison Break

The movements were so fast it was dazzling!

In just three seconds, the eight thugs flew backward in a fan shape, crashing into three tables and shattering dishes all over the floor.

The sounds of wailing and groaning immediately filled the entire teahouse.

Zhang Wenjie carried the blood-stained folding stool to Tongtouqi's side.

The bald man's face was covered in blood, his nose was sunken, and he was rolling on the ground, clutching his face.

"Young Master, Young Master..." Zhang Wenjie poked Tongtouqi's head with a stool leg, his voice full of sarcasm, "When I, Da Mi, was out in the game, Gan Zitai was just a little punk in diapers. Dare to act tough in front of me?"

He lifted his foot, the heavy sole of his leather shoe pressing down on Tongtouqi's hand, slowly applying pressure.

"Ah—!" Copperhead Seven let out a pig-like scream, his fingers making a series of "crackling" sounds under his shoes.

"You can't even manage a henchman," Zhang Wenjie looked down at him, his eyes as cold as ice. "The boss of Tsim Sha Tsui? Bah!"

He raised his foot and kicked Tongtouqi hard in the waist!

The kick was extremely powerful. Copperhead Seven slid two or three meters across the ground before crashing into the base of the wall and coming to a stop. He spat out a mouthful of blood and passed out.

"Useless." Zhang Wenjie threw away the folding stool and patted his hands to remove non-existent dust.

The teahouse was deathly silent.

All the diners held their breath, and even Uncle Shun huddled behind the counter, trembling.

Tianji and Jitouming exchanged a glance, both seeing terror in each other's eyes.

"Ming-ge," Tianji said in a low, trembling voice, "that uncle just now...did he say he was 'Big Mimi'?"

Chicken Head Ming swallowed hard, trying to remain calm: "Really? Just the same name... You think it's really that Big Mimi from Hung Hing? That's someone from ten years ago..."

Even though he said that, his legs were trembling.

"Hurry up, hurry up," Chicken Head Ming tugged at Frog, "We haven't been paid yet anyway..."

The two had just turned around when they heard that rough, hoarse voice behind them: "Stand still."

The sound wasn't loud, but it held the two of them rooted to the spot like a nail.

Tianji and Jitouming stiffly turned around and saw Zhang Wenjie's fleshy face looking at them with a half-smile.

The two of them had to tilt their heads back to meet those unfathomable eyes and the few nose hairs sticking out of their nostrils.

Zhang Wenjie took a pack of Marlboro cigarettes from Tianji's shirt pocket, shook one out and put it in his mouth, then lit it with a lighter from Tianji's pocket.

The whole set of movements was fluid and natural, as if it were happening at home.

He took a deep breath and exhaled a string of smoke rings, which looked particularly arrogant amidst the wailing gangsters and broken dishes on the ground.

"Where do you hang out?" Zhang Wenjie flicked his cigarette ash. "Which boss do you work for?"

Tianji nudged Chicken Head Ming next to him with his elbow and whispered, "Hey, Ming-ge, he asked us where we're from..."

Chicken Head Ming's forehead was covered in cold sweat, his lips trembled, and he couldn't speak for a long time.

"Big, big, big brother..." he finally managed to squeeze out a sentence, his voice barely audible, "H-hello..."

Zhang Wenjie raised an eyebrow, looking at him with interest: "Heh, you have good taste, little brother. Which loser are you working with?"

He tilted his head back and exhaled smoke rings with an O-shaped mouth, his nonchalant demeanor, coupled with the mess on the ground, was incredibly intimidating.

Seeing that Chicken Head Ming remained silent, Frog quickly interjected, "Big Brother Mimi! We're with Brother Jordan!"

"Jordan?" Zhang Wenjie narrowed his eyes. "Which Jordan?"

Just as Tianji was about to boast about the "juicy gossip" he had heard from Jitouming, Jitouming suddenly slapped him on the back of the head with such force that Tianji staggered.

"Shut up!" Chicken Head Ming shouted sternly, then turned to Zhang Wenjie with a fawning smile on his face, "Brother Da Mi, the kid doesn't know any better... We're with 'Jordan Road Horse King,' we collect protection money and keep an eye on things on Jordan Road... It's all small-time stuff, nothing to your liking."

As he spoke, he secretly observed Zhang Wenjie's expression.

Zhang Wenjie, with a cigarette dangling from his lips, sized up the two trembling gangsters.

The frog was as thin as a bamboo pole, and the golden retriever was scalded to a golden brown; they were clearly greenhorns who hadn't been out in the game for long.

Chicken Head Ming is slightly better; he has a bit of shrewdness in his eyes, but it's limited to street smarts.

Two lowly scoundrels.

However... sometimes, minor roles are more useful.

"Jordan Road Horse King..." Zhang Wenjie repeated the name, a meaningful smile playing on his lips. "Alright, you guys are lucky today."

He reached out and tapped Ji Tou Ming's chest with the finger holding the cigarette:

"From now on, follow me."

Chicken Head Ming was stunned.

The frog was also stunned.

Everyone still awake in the teahouse was stunned.

"Big...Big Brother Mimi..." Chicken Head Ming stammered, "How could we, such insignificant characters, be worthy to serve you..."

"I said you're good enough, and you're good enough." Zhang Wenjie interrupted him, his voice brooking no argument. "Be here waiting for me at this time tomorrow. If you dare not come..."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the unconscious Tongtouqi at the base of the wall.

Chicken Head Ming trembled and quickly bowed, saying, "I'll definitely be there! I'll definitely be there!"

Zhang Wenjie nodded in satisfaction, took out several thousand-yuan bills from his pocket, and casually tossed them onto the greasy table.

"Uncle Shun, this is enough to compensate you for your losses."

After saying that, he stopped looking at anyone, a cigarette dangling from his lips, hands in his pockets, and swaggered out of the teahouse.

The morning light was blinding, and the streets were bustling.

Zhang Wenjie's figure quickly blended into the crowd and disappeared.

In the teahouse, Chicken Head Ming stared at the few banknotes on the table, then glanced at Copper Head Seven by the wall, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down.

"Ming-ge..." Frog asked softly, "Are we... really with Big Mi-ge?"

Chicken Head Ming took a deep breath, his eyes gradually becoming firm.

"Go with us! Why wouldn't we?" he whispered. "This is our chance! Let's go back and tell Horse King we're not going with him anymore!"

"Huh? What about Horse King..."

"What's there to be afraid of? With Big Brother Migo as our backer, Horse King is nothing!"

The two left the teahouse in a hurry, without even having time to eat breakfast.

Uncle Shun peeked out from behind the counter, looked at the mess on the floor, then at the few banknotes on the table, and sighed deeply.

The world of martial arts is about to be stirred up again.

At that moment, Zhang Wenjie had already turned into a small alley, taken off his fisherman's hat and sunglasses, revealing a completely different face.

He pulled out his mobile phone and dialed a number: "Hey, Ah Guang. Make arrangements, I need to see 'Jordan Road King'."

A calm voice came from the other end of the phone: "Yes, boss. What needs to be prepared?"

Zhang Wenjie smiled and looked up at the narrow patch of sky at the end of the alley.

"Prepare a coffin."

"Empty or full?"

"That depends on whether Horse King... knows what's good for him."