Chapter 624
The Death of the Golden-Haired Tiger
In the open-air plaza, the stage frame has been half erected.
Workers were busy moving sound equipment, and several young people wearing volunteer T-shirts were adjusting the lights.
"Over there! Move the speaker a little to the left! Yes, right there!"
Li Zhiming, the person in charge of the planning, was directing the operation through a megaphone, his forehead covered in sweat.
This charity performance was three months in the making, and almost all the prominent patriotic stars in Hong Kong attended.
Stephen Chow, Andy Lau, Jacky Cheung, Tony Leung... the list is so long it could fill three pages.
All proceeds from the performances will be donated to disaster-stricken areas in the interior, with not a single penny retained.
"Brother Li, there are gangsters loitering around here again," the assistant said, jogging over.
Li Zhiming frowned and looked towards the edge of the square.
A dozen or so young people dressed in floral shirts and jeans strolled over slowly, cigarettes dangling from their lips, their eyes scanning the surroundings as if they were taking a walk in their own backyard.
Almost simultaneously, three police cars pulled up on the side of the road, and six police officers quickly got out and stood between the gangsters and the stage.
"Back off! Everyone back off!" the leading police chief, Chen Guozhong, shouted sternly, his hand already on the baton at his waist.
The gangsters stopped, looked at each other, and suddenly burst into laughter.
"Officer, it's not illegal for us to take a walk, is it?" A young man with dyed blond hair spread his hands, his expression exaggerated. "Hong Kong is a society governed by the rule of law. Citizens don't even have the freedom to take a walk?"
Another person with slicked-back hair chimed in, "Yeah, I heard a big star is coming today. Is it a problem for us ordinary folks to come and see our idols?"
Chen Guozhong stared at them, his eyes icy: "I know you, you're from Golden Tiger's gang on Portland Street. I'm warning you, this is a different occasion today, don't cause trouble. Otherwise, the people behind you won't be able to handle it."
The blond-haired man chuckled and leaned closer: "Officer, I don't understand what you're saying. We're just ordinary citizens here to support the charity performance. Does doing charity have to be selective?"
The police and the gangsters faced off, and the atmosphere grew increasingly tense. The workers on the other side of the stage stopped what they were doing and watched them with concern.
Finally, the gangsters shrugged and slowly brushed past the police, but they didn't go far. They sat down on a bench at the edge of the square and openly stared at the stage.
Chen Guozhong gritted his teeth and whispered to his colleagues, "Keep a close eye on them, and arrest them immediately if they make any moves."
"Boss, why don't we just kick them out?" the young officer asked, puzzled.
“There’s no legitimate reason. They’re doing nothing, just sitting there.” Chen Guozhong sighed. “These guys have gotten smarter; they know how to test the limits of legality.”
-
The atmosphere was equally somber in the temporary rest area backstage of the charity performance.
Stephen Chow put down the schedule in his hand and rubbed his temples: "Golden Tiger's men are definitely going to cause trouble today. I saw them sitting on the side of the square when I came in just now."
Andy Lau poured a cup of tea and pushed it in front of him: "Don't worry too much. With so many police officers around, they won't dare to be too arrogant."
“You don’t understand Golden Tiger,” director Johnnie To interjected. He had experienced the darkest period of the Hong Kong entertainment industry. “This man is different from other gang leaders. Other gangs either seek money or power, but Golden Tiger seeks face. He thinks Portland Street is his territory. If we hold an event on his territory and don’t pay tribute, it’s like slapping him in the face.”
Tony Leung had been silent until now, then spoke up: "More than a decade ago, they could point guns at us while we were making movies. Now? Would they dare to do that again?"
The room was quiet for a few seconds.
“They wouldn’t dare do it openly,” Andy Lau said slowly. “But what about behind the scenes? What if the stage equipment suddenly malfunctions? What if the sound system breaks down? Or what if there’s an unexpected power outage? They have plenty of ways to do it. What they want isn’t money; they want us to bow down, to tell all of Hong Kong that they still call the shots in the entertainment industry.”
“But this time is different.” Stephen Chow stood up, walked to the window and looked out at the square. “This time it’s a donation to our compatriots in the mainland, so the political significance is different. If they really want to cause trouble, then they’re going against everyone.”
“That’s why it’s troublesome.” Johnnie To smiled wryly. “Old-fashioned gangsters like Golden Tiger don’t understand political significance at all. All he knows is that if a group of celebrities are doing things on his turf without asking him first, it means they’re looking down on him.”
There was a knock at the door, and Li Zhiming walked in, his face not looking too good: "Everyone, I just received news that Jinmaohu has said that we have to pay 30% of the ticket revenue as venue management fees, otherwise there may be an accident during today's performance."
"Thirty percent?" Andy Lau laughed angrily. "All our income is to be donated; we won't keep a single penny. And he, on the other hand, asks for thirty percent?"
"Did you call the police?" Stephen Chow asked.
“I reported it, but the police said it was just a verbal threat. They could only increase patrols before taking any real action,” Li Zhiming said helplessly. “Besides, Golden Tiger is very clever. He doesn’t show up himself; his underlings relay the messages, so we can’t find any evidence against him.”
Tony Leung suddenly asked, "What did Mr. Xiang say?"
The room fell silent again.
Charles Heung is a pivotal figure in Hong Kong's entertainment industry and one of the few people who can speak with gangsters.
"Neutral," Johnnie To said. "Neither supporting nor opposing. The meaning is clear: this is your own doing, so you have to resolve it yourselves."
Andy Lau suddenly slammed his fist on the table: "Then let's settle this ourselves! I refuse to believe that after so many years since Hong Kong's return to China, these gangsters can still act with impunity!"
-
Feng Yuxiu squatted beside the stage support, tightening screws in his hands, while listening to all the sounds around him.
He was wearing a gray overall outfit and a baseball cap today, looking like an ordinary back-of-house worker.
"Hey bro, could you lend a hand with that speaker over there?" a young volunteer called out.
Feng Yuxiu nodded, got up and walked over.
He moved swiftly, carrying the subwoofer that would normally require two people to lift, and placed it steadily in the designated spot.
The young volunteer stared in disbelief: "That strength..."
“I’ve practiced before,” Feng Yuxiu replied simply, his gaze sweeping across the edge of the square.
The dozen or so thugs were still sitting on the bench, smoking, laughing and talking loudly, and occasionally pointing towards the stage.
The police stood twenty meters away, and a delicate balance was maintained between the two sides.
Feng Yuxiu squinted his eyes.
Before coming, he had done his research. Jin Maohu, whose real name was Jin Sheng, was in his early fifties and was a local tyrant in the Bolan Street area.
Unlike other gangs that have transitioned to legitimate businesses or engaged in high-tech crimes, Golden Tiger still sticks to the old ways from the 1990s: collecting protection money, running arcades and DVD stores, and employing more than two hundred people.
This kind of person is the most troublesome; he doesn't seek great wealth or status, he just wants to save face.
If you offend him, he'll fight you to the death.
Feng Yuxiu went around to the alley behind the square.
This place is piled with miscellaneous items and is rarely visited; it's a gathering place for gangsters.
Sure enough, deep in the alley, seven or eight thugs were smoking together.
Upon seeing Feng Yuxiu enter, one of the blond-haired men stood up and said, "Hey, you can't come in here. Get lost."
Feng Yuxiu didn't stop and continued walking forward.
"Damn it, are you deaf?" the blond-haired guy cursed as he walked over and kicked her.
What happened next happened too fast.
Before Huang Mao's foot could even touch Feng Yuxiu, he was sent flying backward, crashing into a trash can with a loud bang.
Before the others could react, Feng Yuxiu had already made his move.
One punch, and the man on the left had his nose broken.
With an elbow strike, the man on the right broke his ribs.
With a sweeping kick, all three people fell to the ground at the same time.
In ten seconds, all seven gangsters were lying on the ground groaning in pain.
Only the leader was still standing, but his face was deathly pale, and his right hand trembled as he reached for his lower back, where a machete was tucked.
Feng Yuxiu looked at him and suddenly smiled: "Try pulling it out."
The leader gritted his teeth, suddenly drew his machete, and a cold glint flashed in his eyes.
But before he could raise his knife, Feng Yuxiu was already right in front of him, his hands gripping his chin.
"Wait! I..."
"Click".
It wasn't the sound of bones breaking; it was the sound of the jaw joint dislocating.
Feng Yuxiu used both hands forcefully and slowly tore it to both sides.
The leader's mouth was forced open, growing wider and wider, and the skin at the corners of his mouth began to tear, with blood seeping out.
"Ahhh!"
A muffled scream came from that deformed mouth.
The henchmen around were all terrified, and some of them even wet their pants.
Feng Yuxiu released his grip, and the eldest brother collapsed to the ground, clutching his torn lip with both hands, gasping for breath.
"Who sent you?" Feng Yuxiu asked one of his underlings.
"Golden, Golden Tiger... Tiger Brother sent us to keep watch..." The underling trembled like a leaf, "Big Brother, spare me, I... I'm getting married next month..."
Feng Yuxiu crouched down, staring at his boss's terrifying face: "Have you ever killed anyone?"
The eldest brother shook his head frantically, tears, snot, and blood streaming down his face.
"Then I'll spare your life today." Feng Yuxiu stood up, looked around, and said, "Go back and tell Golden Tiger that if there are any problems with this performance, I will personally go to Portland Street to find him."
After saying that, he turned and walked out of the alley as if nothing had happened.
-
At 4 p.m., the audience began to enter.
The square gradually filled with people, and the atmosphere was lively.
Security was increased by thirty people, significantly strengthening vigilance.
Those gangsters disappeared without a trace, but Feng Yuxiu knew that the matter was not over.
Sure enough, at five o'clock sharp, just as the performance was about to begin, something unexpected happened.
First, the lighting system suddenly went out completely, then came back on after three seconds. Next, the sound system emitted a piercing scream.
Technicians conducted an emergency inspection but found that all the equipment was working properly.
Feng Yuxiu walked directly toward an old building on the west side of the square.
His intuition told him that the source of the interference was there.
On the third floor of the old building, in a room, three gangsters were fiddling with a piece of equipment.
Suddenly, the door was kicked open.
"who!"
Feng Yuxiu rushed in and immediately dislocated the arm of the nearest man. He then snatched the iron rod from the man's hand and smashed it into the back of the second man's knee.
The third person tried to run away, but Feng Yuxiu grabbed him by the back of the collar and slammed him against the wall.
In less than fifteen seconds, all three of them collapsed.
Feng Yuxiu glanced at the jamming device and stomped on it until it was smashed.
When I returned to the square, the lights and sound system had been restored to normal.
The performance officially began, and Andy Lau was the first to take the stage. As the music started, thunderous applause erupted.
When Andy Lau was singing his second song, a gasp suddenly came from the side of the stage.
Feng Yuxiu rushed over and saw two men dressed as workers pouring liquid—gasoline—on the stage frame!
"Stop them!" the security guard shouted.
But the two workers were extremely quick; after pouring the gasoline, they ran back, already holding lighters in their hands.
The seal was lifted.
He was so fast that he left only a blur in everyone's eyes.
The first arsonist had just pressed the lighter button when his wrist was grabbed, twisted and broken, and the sound of bones breaking could be clearly heard.
The lighter slipped from his hand, but Feng Yuxiu caught it mid-air.
Upon seeing this, the second arsonist pulled out a dagger and stabbed.
Feng Yuxiu neither dodged nor flinched. Just as the blade was about to pierce him, he turned to the side, his right hand reaching out like a venomous snake to grab the other man's throat. He was lifted off the ground and then slammed heavily to the ground.
All of this happened within ten seconds.
When the police rushed over, the two arsonists were already unconscious.
The gasoline was quickly cleared away, and the performance was not even interrupted.
Andy Lau on stage, unaware of what was happening, continued his heartfelt performance.
Feng Yuxiu twisted his neck. "It looks like we're going to have to get rid of the Golden Tiger today. He's been too fussy."
At 7 p.m., when the performance reached its climax, hundreds of people suddenly poured out from around the square.
They were all wearing the same floral shirts and carrying sticks and machetes. The leader was none other than Golden Tiger himself, a bald, burly man with a tiger tattooed on his neck and fierce eyes.
The audience began to stir, and security immediately formed a human wall, but there were too many people on the other side.
Golden Tiger raised his voice, "Holding an event on my turf without even giving me a heads-up, who's going too far?"
He turned towards the stage and shouted, "You guys on stage! This is your last chance! Hand over 30% of your ticket revenue now, and I'll take my brothers and leave immediately! Otherwise..."
He paused, then grinned maliciously, "Otherwise, I'll have to invite you all to have tea on Portland Street!"
The music on stage continued.
The stage security personnel separated the gangsters from the audience. Audience members who were nearby stood up curiously to look over, but there were too many people, and all the lights were turned off immediately.
The stage lights grew brighter and brighter, and the Four Heavenly Kings went on stage, causing screams from the audience. The brief commotion went unnoticed.
Several celebrity directors came down and looked at Jin Maohu calmly: "Mr. Jin, this performance is to raise funds for our compatriots affected by the disaster in the inland areas. All proceeds will be donated. We will not keep a single penny. We cannot come up with the 30% you asked for."
"Then let's not do it!" Golden Tiger waved his hand, and hundreds of people advanced.
"Beat them!"
Hundreds of people surged in like a tide.
Feng Yuxiu took a deep breath from his high vantage point and then moved.
The first gangster to rush over raised his stick and struck down, but Feng Yuxiu dodged to the side and slashed the man's neck with his right hand like a knife, causing the man to fall to the ground.
At the same time, he kicked back with his left leg, sending the attacker flying three meters.
He was like a tiger among sheep; wherever he went, men and horses fell over.
Fists, elbows, knees, legs—every part of the body became a weapon.
In thirty seconds, more than sixty people fell.
Golden Tiger's expression changed.
He had been in the underworld for thirty years and had never seen anyone so skilled in combat.
This isn't a fight, it's a crushing defeat, a massacre.
"Attack him together! Kill him!" Golden Tiger roared.
More people gathered around.
Feng Yuxiu casually picked up an iron rod from the ground and rushed forward expressionlessly.
The short sticks transformed into two black shadows in his hands, and wherever they went, the sound of bones breaking could be heard.
His movements were as fluid as dancing, every step perfectly timed, every strike precise and ruthless.
The gangsters fell like wheat being harvested, their screams echoing throughout the scene.
In two minutes, half of the people collapsed.
The remaining people began to back away, their eyes filled with terror.
This isn't a human, it's a monster!
Golden Tiger gritted his teeth and pulled a gun from his lower back.
Hong Kong gangs haven't used guns in a long time, but he made an exception today.
But just as he raised his gun, Feng Yuxiu was already in front of him.
With a swift movement of the short stick, his wrist was broken, and the gun fell to the ground.
Another short stick was pressed against the golden tiger's throat.
The entire room fell silent.
Hundreds of people lay down.
Only Feng Yuxiu and the golden-haired tiger trembling under his stick were standing.
Feng Yuxiu glanced at the people around him, and soon more than two hundred people rushed over. They tacitly picked up all the gangsters on the ground and quickly left the scene.
These were all sent by the leaders of the inland region. Feng Yuxiu was too fast; these plainclothes officers didn't even have time to make a move.
The crowd quickly blocked the area and soon cleaned it up.
The actors on stage continued singing.
Feng Yuxiu pulled the golden tiger out of the venue and casually threw it on the ground.
Several plainclothes officers silently stepped forward, pulled the golden-haired tiger away, and turned to leave.
"Fuck your mother! You just wait!"
Golden Tiger glared at Feng Yuxiu with eyes blazing with fury. He might as well go to jail for a few years, but once he got out, he would definitely make this little brat die.
Feng Yuxiu's gaze turned cold, and he kicked the iron rod on the ground with the tip of his right foot.
call out.
The iron rod pierced through the golden tiger's heart in an instant, like an arrow released from a bow.
The short-haired bodyguards glanced at it and silently dragged the golden tiger's corpse away.
-
The performance ended successfully at 11 p.m.
Preliminary statistics have been completed, and the amount of donations raised far exceeded expectations.
The celebrities gathered backstage and raised their glasses in celebration.
Stephen Chow found Feng Yuxiu and solemnly extended his hand: "Although I don't know who you are, thank you for today."
Andy Lau also came over: "Brother, can I exchange contact information? Maybe we can collaborate in the future."
Feng Yuxiu glanced at it, "No need."
After speaking, he turned and left, disappearing shortly afterward.
A few days later, all the arcades and DVD shops on Portland Street closed down. (End of Chapter)