"Some brainwashed youth think that in a chaotic society, they can do anything, believing they can have money, guns, women, rule as a tyrant, become an evil Godfather whose word decides life and death. They only realize after being sold that no, they are merely ones whose lives can be ended with a single word, they are nothing but slaves to evil. Do you think that returning to the past, you could become a king or a minister? Don’t kid yourself, if you returned to the past, you’d only end up as a pile of bones."

——Gu Weijing "Interview with Good and Evil, Past and Future"

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Break his arm, or kidnap a girl.

This kind of ruthless talk, seeping with blood from between the lines, caused not a single change in expression among the three men present.

In the underworld,

it’s always been the law that those who follow me prosper, those who oppose me die.

You really think just by watching a few old Hong Kong films like "True Colors of a Man" that gangsters are all noble big brothers who heroically give to the needy?

They can bring a big bag of money to your house to wish you Happy New Year, not even frowning when giving you a luxury sports car. So when they throw your entire family into the Yangon River to feed the fish, they won’t even bat an eyelid.

Otherwise,

does Bald really look like a benevolent man running a charity hall?

Even that deputy inspector closed his ears to Bald’s words, closing his eyes to rest, as if he were asleep.

"Officer Wu, I already know the situation, thank you for the information. Please help me arrange something, next month’s Water Festival, I’d like to invite your elder to visit the Great Golden Pagoda and burn some incense. This year, the Myanmar Government has renovated and restored the mural paintings in the Pagoda, using renowned international artists; they’re really beautiful."

The Underworld Godfather wasn’t in a hurry to deal with Gu Weijing.

The middle-aged man glanced at the calendar on the table and casually arranged a time.

Then he pointed at Bald, speaking warmly, "The Gu Weijing he mentioned is a young man I have my eye on. You really should take a look at his mural paintings; they are vibrant in color, very spiritual, worth careful study."

"You are truly a cultured man, sir. I will certainly convey this to our elder. However, our elder is a crude soldier who has held a gun all his life, so I’ll trouble you to explain the subtleties of the murals to him when the time comes."

The military second generation, newly transferred from Mandalay to Yangon, bowed out with a smile.

This level of collusion between black and white crosses has long surpassed the point where I report to you for how much you pay me.

It’s too vulgar and unimpressive.

It often goes like this, with everything unsaid yet understood.

"Sir, you haven’t said how to deal with Gu Weijing yet?"

Bald noticed that after Officer Wu left, Brother Hao hadn’t spoken for a while, just kept flipping through the calendar in his hand, as if he’d forgotten about it, prompting him.

"You should take a look; this painting is really quite something. The brushwork is mature, the ink is spirited, it has a touch of Zen to it, like a Bodhisattva opening their eyes — worthy of Master Cao Xuan’s hand."

Brother Hao still didn’t answer.

The calendar in the middle-aged man’s hand was a souvenir calendar issued by the Yangon Government for the Great Golden Pagoda restoration project.

He looked at the joint mural by Cao Xuan and Gu Weijing on the calendar, filled with admiration: "It’s really good. The colors are sharp and accurate, ancient yet lively. I heard this young man named Gu Weijing spent an afternoon experimenting to find this formula."

"I’ve always liked to use young people. At first, I just thought this kid was skilled in spatial structure with his brushes, so I took notice of him. I didn’t expect he’d turn out to be such a treasure."

Brother Hao praised, clapping his hands.

"Is it really that good?"

Bald raised an eyebrow, a hint of disdain in his voice: "That peer Miao Angwen, who is very similar to Gu Weijing, was much easier to win over and is very obedient too."

For gangs,

young people have the daring, are easy to bribe, loyal, sometimes even more ruthless and more useful than adults.

In Africa, there are the infamous and notorious Scouts, and Latin American drug cartels also like to select future core members from teenage gangs.

Similarly,

the forgery gang under Brother Hao has a lot of core painters cultivated from average art-studying middle school students handpicked by Brother Hao.

Gu Weijing wasn’t the first young man Brother Hao has had his eyes on, nor will he be the last.

This year, Brother Hao needs to add a forger to his team.

Bald kept hitting a wall with Gu Weijing,

so he switched targets to bribe that middle schooler named Miao Angwen, whose grades and family background were similar to Gu Weijing’s, finding it extremely easy.

Upon hearing that the renowned Brother Hao wanted him to paint forgeries, Miao Angwen was ecstatic.

He became visibly radiant.

In Yangon City, any art student knows,

working for Brother Hao is like the God of Wealth coming to visit; you can make a fortune with your eyes closed, no coercion or cajoling needed, Miao Angwen readily agreed.

Honestly,

that was the rhythm Bald was familiar with.

Brother Hao is Yangon’s dark Godfather; being noticed by him is a big deal, he gives you face by asking you to work, it’s mutually beneficial.

An ordinary artist in Southeast Asia, how much can one earn painting all their life?

Loyally work a couple of years for Brother Hao, and you’ll achieve financial freedom.

Gu Weijing acting like a virtuous maiden who’d rather die than submit, is a rarity among rarities.

"Very similar?"

Brother Hao examined the artist acknowledgment plaque on the calendar’s cover, his fingertips trailing over the gilded names, finally resting on Gu Weijing, and retorted: "What makes you think that Miao Angwen is worthy of being compared to our Mr. Xiao Gu?"