Chapter 1

In September in Guangzhou, the heat has not yet subsided.

Li Ruiyuan, holding a half-smoked cigarette in his mouth, squatted beside the trash can at the back door of the convenience store, squinting at the lame stray cat at the alley entrance. The slanting sunlight shone down, making his pair of thirty-yuan slippers shine brightly.

"Brother Yuan, the goods have arrived." The yellow-haired boy came over with his neck shrunk.

Li Ruiyuan didn't move, only a "hmm" rolled out from his throat. Cigarette ash fell, staining his washed-out jeans. He stood up. His 5'85" height cast a long shadow in the narrow alley, but his frame was thinner than that of an average man, like a thin knife in its sheath.

The delivery man stood at the end of the alley, his suit and tie standing out from the damp and dirty surroundings. He handed over a black briefcase with a fake smile on his face: "Mr. Li, this is the payment from Macau."

Li Ruiyuan twitched his lips but didn't respond. He lazily unzipped his briefcase, fingertips flicked through a few stacks of Hong Kong dollars, and suddenly smiled, "Why are there three thousand missing?"

"What?"

"I said, three thousand is missing." He spat out the cigarette butt and crushed it with the toe of his shoe. "Although I don't have a high degree, do you think my math was really taught by a physical education teacher?"

The argument broke out quickly. Li Ruiyuan didn't like nonsense, and his fists came before his reasoning. As the man fell, he knocked over a trash can, scattering rotting fruit peels and waste paper all over the floor. Huangmao trembled with fear, but Li Ruiyuan bent down to pick up his briefcase and slowly counted the money. The sunlight shone on his profile, and the shadow cast by his brow bone made his eyes appear darker. His eyebrows were very thick, the most rugged part of his face.

"Brother Yuan...will something happen?"

"What could possibly happen? This idiot dares to embezzle money from me." Li Ruiyuan took out three bills and stuffed them into the yellow-haired man's pocket. "Go buy a pack of cigarettes, and use the rest to buy exercise books for your sister."

He thought of Li Xuan. That little girl who was only in junior high school, always holding a book. Last week, she went to the convenience store where he worked, saw the bruises on his arms, and her eyes were as red as a rabbit. Li Ruiyuan hated her crying the most, so he stuffed her a lollipop and sent her away: "Go back to your homework."

The Pearl River separates the rich and the poor in Guangzhou. Henan and Hebei are worlds apart. Li Ruiyuan lives in Henan, where the old city's handshake buildings are packed like sardines. The family's small supermarket barely makes ends meet. His parents, whose backs had broken down due to overwork, now rely entirely on him, even though they know they can't rely on this son.

At ten o'clock in the evening, Li Ruiyuan wandered into a food stall. The plastic tables and chairs were greasy and reflected the light. At the next table, a few young men in expensive T-shirts were blowing bottles, the sound so loud that it was piercing.

"Hey, isn't this Brother Yuan?" One of them looked at him sideways.

"I heard you beat up Boss Chen's men again today?" Li Ruiyuan ignored him and walked straight to the corner seat. The man kept on asking, "You dare to touch a dragon from Macau? Aren't you afraid of drowning?"

The sound of shattering glass suddenly erupted. No one could see how Li Ruiyuan struck, only that the man's forehead was already red. The scene erupted in chaos, with beer bottles and chair legs flying everywhere. Li Ruiyuan struck hard, targeting the most painful areas, yet a lazy smile remained on his lips, as if he were just playing some idle game.

He was slamming someone's neck against the wall as the sirens started to get closer. He didn't even let go when the police rushed in.

"Name."

"Li Ruiyuan."

"age."

"Twenty-four."

"Profession."

"Unemployed."

The incandescent lights in the police station were blazing brightly, revealing no one. The officer taking his statement looked only a few years older than him, his brow furrowed. "You again. Why did you fight this time?"

Li Ruiyuan leaned back in his chair, stretching his long legs casually: "I'm not happy with them."

"Li Ruiyuan!" The policeman slammed the table. "What do you think this place is?"

"The Public Security Bureau," he laughed. "How about a tea restaurant?"

At three in the morning, he finished writing a self-criticism. The handwriting was crooked and the content was extremely perfunctory. The police picked it up, took a look, and laughed in anger: "'Try not to hit others in the face in the future'? Is this your self-criticism?"

It was still dark when he left the police station. The September morning breeze brought a rare chill, ruffling his long hair. His phone vibrated in his pocket. It was a message from his mother: "Xuanxuan has a fever. Go get some medicine."

He stood on the street, lit a cigarette, and watched the neon lights of the tall buildings across the street gradually dim. Those gleaming office buildings housed another kind of life, a world he could never touch.

The pharmacy wasn't open yet. Lee Seo-yeon wandered into a 24-hour convenience store and bought some fever-reducing medicine and a lollipop. The clerk, a new girl, didn't dare meet his eyes when she gave him the change; the bruise on his cheekbone was too noticeable.

On his way home, he passed the Macau casino. The golden gate gleamed arrogantly in the morning light. A few thugs stood outside smoking and whistled when they saw him.

Li Ruiyuan didn't stop, just raised his middle finger and continued walking forward.

The aroma of breakfast wafted from the old residential building. He climbed to the sixth floor, and before he could even insert the key into the lock, the door opened. Li Xuan stood at the door, her face flushed. "Brother, did the police beat you?"

"What are you talking about?" He stuffed the medicine into her hand and said, "Go to sleep."

The little girl didn't move. She stared at the wound on his face for a long time, then suddenly whispered, "Our class teacher said Guangzhou is a good place. As long as you work hard, anyone can make a name for themselves."

Li Ruiyuan sneered and ruffled her hair: "What does your class teacher know?"

Sunlight slanted in through the kitchen window, illuminating the crumpled self-criticism. Li Ruiyuan crumpled it into a ball and threw it into the trash can, then started to boil water for instant noodles.

This September, it seemed as if nothing had happened, yet something seemed to be quietly lost. He was still the flexible, vicious, and arrogant Li Ruiyuan, mingling in the lower classes and cracks of Guangzhou, ready to raise his fist for a little profit or a momentary impulse, and then be arrested by the Public Security Bureau and forced to write a nonsense self-criticism.

Future? Ideal? That's something from another world.