Gangster heir? Please call me a legitimate entrepreneur.

It's 6:30 in the morning.

A thin layer of frost had formed on the bluestone slabs of the old Xiguan commercial street, making them slippery to walk on.

A cold wind swirled rotten vegetable leaves deep into the alley.

The air was filled with a greasy smell of pig offal and cheap fried dough twists made from soybean oil.

"Bang!"

Old Zhao was shirtless, with a greasy black leather apron tucked into his stomach.

He chopped the chipped boning knife into the pig's hind leg on the cutting board.

Broken bone fragments mixed with minced meat flew far away.

He hastily wiped the snot from his nose with the back of his hand, which was stained with pig's blood.

"What kind of crappy mobile payment is this? I'm not using it!"

Old Zhao muttered curses under his breath, the boning knife scraping against the sharpening rod with a harsh, screeching sound.

"We threw them a piece of cardboard yesterday, what could they do? Do you think gangsters would dare to hack someone to pieces in the street?"

At the entrance of the alley.

The two Jinbei vans stalled.

The car door was flung open with a whoosh.

Lei Hu stepped down, wearing a pair of pointed leather shoes that were polished so well they could be used as mirrors.

He was wearing a brand new black suit today.

The fabric is crisp and straight, without a single crease.

The muscles in his chest were holding the buttons tightly shut, making them look like they could burst off at any moment.

"Line up, everyone!"

Lei Hu, speaking in a hoarse voice, turned and waved into the car.

Dozens of burly men jumped off the bus like dumplings being dropped into a pot.

They were all dressed in black suits and red ties.

What's most striking is that these people are all clutching pairs of snow-white work gloves.

It was so white it was dazzling.

"Kim Jong-un! What's with your gloves?"

Lei Hu glared at Sanpang with his bull-like eyes and grabbed his arm.

"My thumb's already poked a hole in it! The rough edges are all sticking out!"

Sanpang shrank his neck, looking aggrieved.

He frantically stuffed his chubby hands into the gloves.

"Tiger, Brother Tiger, my hands are too chubby, I really can't squeeze into this one-size-fits-all."

"We have to squeeze in, even if we can't!"

Lei Hu slapped Sanpang on the bald head, making a crisp cracking sound.

"Brother Su sent me this message last night."

He took his phone out of his pocket and glanced at it, his Adam's apple bobbing as it slipped inside his collar.

"Nobody is allowed to speak during our on-the-ground promotion today."

"Standing right in front of someone's shop. Giving me a hard time!"

Er Lengzi, wearing white gloves, scratched his buzz cut.

The cotton thread dangled from his scalp, making a sizzling sound.

"Tiger, are you just laughing? Aren't you going to read that labor law thing?"

Lei Hu put his phone back in his pocket.

I took a deep breath of the cold wind, which carried a frosty scent.

"If Brother Su says we don't have to read, then we don't have to! If Brother Su says we have to laugh, we have to laugh even if it makes us laugh our heads off!"

He pointed to the butcher shop in front of him.

"Let's go! To Old Zhao's place!"

Old Zhao had just hung half a pork rib on the iron hook.

The iron hook swayed, making a creaking, teeth-grinding sound.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a dark mass of people surging towards the alley entrance.

The rhythmic "clack-clack" of leather shoes on the bluestone slabs seemed to strike the heart.

Old Zhao's hand trembled, and the boning knife almost sliced ​​off his own thumbnail.

Lei Hu walked at the very front.

It stopped about a meter away from the butcher's cutting board.

The dozens of men behind him scattered in a flurry.

They formed a semi-circular circle around the entrance of the butcher shop.

Place your hands together in front of your lower abdomen.

The snow-white cotton gloves gleamed eerily in the gloomy morning light.

Old Zhao swallowed hard.

The palms of my hands, which were holding the boning knife, were covered in a layer of slippery sweat.

A chill ran down his spine.

These people came yesterday looking disheveled, but today they're dressed like a funeral procession.

"W-What are you doing!"

Old Zhao mustered his courage and slammed the knife against the cutting board.

"I threw away that batch yesterday! Go ahead and smash my place if you dare!"

He yelled at the top of his lungs, but his voice cracked.

Lei Hu ignored him.

The text message Su Ye sent last night was replaying in my mind.

He clenched his back teeth, and the muscles in his cheeks twitched twice.

He swallowed all the swear words he usually used to curse.

He forced a wide grin at the corners of his mouth.

He revealed a set of teeth stained yellow from years of smoking.

The centipede-like scars on his face bulged into a tangled mess as he smiled.

Er Lengzi and San Pang laughed when they saw their boss.

He quickly followed suit and grinned.

Dozens of burly men with menacing faces, looking like they were carrying the weight of a murder.

Not a word.

They stared intently at Lao Zhao, all revealing a kind of "nuclear benevolence" smile.

No sound.

Only the whistling wind swept across the cutting board.

Old Zhao felt a chill run down his spine.

This is even more terrifying than having a machete held to his neck.

He would rather these people overturn his chopping board and curse his ancestors for eighteen generations.

He just laughs without saying a word, and it gives people the creeps!

"Are you all crazy?!"

Old Zhao stumbled backward, his back slamming against the iron rack where pork was hanging, the cold pork skin pressing against his bare shirt.

He shuddered.

"Boss, two pounds of pork belly, please!"

An older woman carrying a cloth bag walked over from the other end of the alley.

The woman didn't look up; she took out her coin purse as she approached the cutting board.

"It has to be a good mix of lean and fatty meat, don't try to fool me with that chaff..."

The older woman hadn't finished speaking.

Lei Hu suddenly took half a step forward.

His leather shoes slid into the dirty water on the ground, and his back bent at a ninety-degree angle instantly.

Welcome!

He opened his hoarse voice, the sound so loud it made the bits of meat on the cutting board tremble.

Dozens of burly men behind him bent over at the same time.

White gloves were held up in front of their chests in unison.

Please use Sihai Pay!

The shouts of dozens of people came together.

The sound was deafening.

The stray cat in the alley was so frightened that it meowed and jumped onto the roof.

The coin purse in the old lady's hand flew out.

A few coins bounced and rolled around on the bluestone slab.

She looked up in horror at the dozens of burly gangsters bowing deeply before her.

His face turned deathly pale instantly, and he even stopped breathing.

"Mom! Mom! The Black and White Impermanence are here to take my life!"

The old lady didn't even want the cloth bag anymore.

He stepped into a puddle, lost one of his shoes, and scrambled and crawled as fast as he could out of the alley.

"Auntie! You haven't taken your meat yet!"

Er Lengzi straightened up and waved憨厚ly at the old lady's back.

The white gloves swayed in the cold wind.

The boning knife in Old Zhao's hand clattered onto the cutting board.

His calves were cramping, and he slumped against the iron frame, panting heavily.

"You...you're ruining my business!"

Old Zhao pointed at Lei Hu, his fingers trembling as if he had Parkinson's disease.

"I'm calling the police! I'm going to the police station to report you!"

Lei Hu straightened his suit and tie.

Still not speaking.

She continued to maintain that smile that was more chilling than crying.

She just watched him quietly.

Ten minutes later.

An elderly man wearing reading glasses strolled over to buy pork ribs.

I had just walked up to the stall.

"Welcome! Please use Sihai Payment!"

Lei Hu took the lead and gave another thunderous 90-degree bow.

The old man was so frightened he almost had a heart attack. He clutched his chest and ran away, trembling.

A full hour.

Not even a greenbottle fly dared to fly over in front of Old Zhao's butcher shop.

As long as someone gets within five meters.

These dozens of men bowed and roared in unison.

polite.

Extremely polite.

The politeness was so extreme that it made you feel like they were selling human flesh, not pork, on that chopping board.

Old Zhao completely broke down.

The pork on his cutting board was covered with a layer of white frost.

If these people stand here all day, his pork will rot in his hands.

"Brother... Tiger Brother."

Old Zhao's eyes were red-rimmed, and tears mixed with snot slid into his mouth, making it salty and bitter.

He held onto the cutting board, but his legs were too weak to support him, and he slowly slid to his knees.

"I give up... I really give up."

His hands trembled as he groped around in the muddy puddle.

I pulled out the QR code cardboard covered in black mud that I had thrown away yesterday.

He wiped his face haphazardly on his apron.

"I'll put it on! I'll put it on right now!"

Old Zhao pressed the cardboard firmly to the most conspicuous position on the cash register.

Take out a roll of transparent tape and wrap it tightly, layer by layer, as if afraid it might fall off.

"Brother Tiger, is it okay if I post it here?"

He looked up at Lei Hu, his voice filled with a desperate sob.

"Why don't you take your brothers to another place? My business is so small, I can't afford to be so polite."

Lei Hu's smile vanished.

He rubbed his cheek muscles, which were sore from laughing.

He pulled a brand new laminated QR code label from his inner pocket.

He casually tossed it onto the cutting board.

"It's been soaked in mud and water, so the code can't be scanned. Here's another one."

Lei Hu patted the dust off his gloves and lowered his voice.

"If you had just made up your mind earlier, this mess wouldn't have happened."

He turned his head and glanced at the thriving seafood restaurant across the street corner.

A cold wind blew up the hem of his suit jacket.

"Two simpletons, three fat men."

Lei Hu licked his chapped lips, a glint of fanaticism flashing in his eyes.

"Come with me to the other side."

"That Mr. Wang from the seafood restaurant has an even tougher temper than this butcher. Let's go and bow to him a few more times."