A rickshaw driver dragged the car over, and the eleventh boy got into the car and took a look at the gold-plated pocket watch. It was one o'clock in the morning. He got out of the car in front of a hotel and checked into the shop. He took out a dark blue tunic suit from his purse and put it on, and buttoned a blue peaked cap on his head. He took out a miniature small German pistol, wrapped the muzzle several times with a towel, opened the window, and quietly came out.
The period before dawn was the darkest moment, and even the noisy Dingxianglou was also quite quiet at this moment. The side door suddenly opened, and a pot-bellied figure flashed out, with a box gun pinned to the waist of this figure. He lit a cigarette at the door and snorted and waited for the rickshaw driver.
The dim light reflected this person's pale face and bloodshot eyes. This person was Brother Long. Last night, he really stayed up all night, Xiao Hong waited on him comfortably. He wiped his face sleepily, thinking of Xiao Hong's white thighs in his mind.
"Bang—" There was a low gunshot in the darkness, and a bullet passed through Long Ge's left ear and flew out of his right head. Brother Long opened his mouth wide and looked in the direction where the bullet came, where a figure flew over, grabbed his fallen body, and leaned against the wall. Brother Long was almost killed on the spot. The visitor put his knees on Brother Long's body, quickly put on a pair of white gloves, and inserted the cigarette burned by Brother Long's fingertips into his mouth. Only then did he flip through Brother Long's pocket quickly.
A rickshaw driver came over and looked over here with some penetrating heads. The man didn't look back, just roared in his mouth: "Mother X! Brother Long, you have killed three people tonight, and you are arguing with a rickshaw driver! Did the **** didn't take care of you last night? what?"
The rickshaw driver turned pale in fright, and he dared to probe his head again, dragging the rickshaw and running desperately, wishing he could not have more legs.
The surroundings calmed down, and the man finally took out a secret letter from Long Ge, kneaded it into a ball, swallowed it into his mouth, and swallowed it in pain. He took off the white gloves and hurried away from the way. Brother Long's body leaned little by little in the wind, and finally fell down.
In the morning in old Shanghai, the sound of trams sliding, the sound of horns, the sound of army boots treading on the ground, and the screaming of vendors were all mixed up. To people in troubled times, these sounds have an indescribable bleak smell. In this era of changing the king's banner at the city head, the noise of the city seems to never change, following the people to the Revolution of 1911, to a democratic republic, to cooperation between the Kuomintang and the Communist Party, and to the eight-year war of resistance.
There was a knock on the door in the compound at No.17 Nanjing Road North Hutong. After a while, a voice from inside yelled: "Eleven, your mother didn’t know that I was a night owl! I just fell asleep and dreamed of a thigh-exposed girl. I gave you this shot and all ran away! You gotta Pay me!" Then came the sound of dressing and walking around.
The Eleventh Young Master was standing at the door, with that big and old leather bag under his arm. An old lady with little feet sent her little granddaughter to school, and when she heard the screaming inside, she frowned and took her granddaughter away, fearing that those rogue words would pollute her granddaughter's ears.
The door opened, revealing a big face covered with wine lees, and two yellow fangs half exposed. The Eleventh Young Master walked in, took off the towel hung on the nail behind the door, brushed the dust from his robe, and asked: "Old wine, how was business last night?"
Old Jiu looked outside in a mysterious manner, closed the door, and snarled a few dollar bills from his body and spread them out in his big hand: "Ha, it's a good price! That guy claims to be a military commander, and he still wears them. Mr. shook his hand! I said eleven, if you have any good information in the future, you can sell those military and central military spies directly, don’t sell the middlemen, it’s too dark! Hey, today I will invite you to have a drink."
"Old wine," the Eleventh Young Master said sternly, "When you first arrive in Shanghai, you are not familiar with the place of life, so it is better to keep the key points! Who are those military and middle tiers? They are partisan! Once the information sold to them is wrong, you I have to eat iron peanuts! It's safer to sell to middlemen, at least not so dangerous! In these days, nothing matters."
Lao Jiu snorted disdainfully: "You, you are just timid! These years, the timid and the timid have been starved to death! I have suffered enough, and when I have made enough money, I will go back to my hometown in Northeast China! Mom! It's so compelling, my mother-in-law, Cuihua, won't I lower my eyebrows and be pleasing to my eyes?! If you are so careful, when will I save enough money!"
The eleventh master shook his head, took out the night pearl from his purse, and played with it reluctantly. Lao Jiu went to the bed and squeezed a bottle of Lao Baigan, took a sip, smacked his lips and said, "I said eleven,'Prosperity antiques, troubled times gold' understand?! Where are these rare objects like you and me? Do you think you are still the little young master who splurges casually from the Sun family?! It's serious to exchange intelligence for some golden rice!"