Knight of the Light

In order to make money and earn foreign exchange, Zhou Qingfeng can be described as doing everything. He turned the law over, and specifically selected the relatively simple and feasible business.

The 'environmental protection' industry is the most durable and indispensable in human survival. Now that the comics are printed, so should film and television products.

The girl with the stage name 'Su Su' went to the bathroom and returned again five minutes later. She filmed "The Survivor of the Next Door." Twelve volumes of original paintings, but the screenwriters found were very good at irrigation, and would not be finished without making fifty or sixty episodes.

Each episode is about half an hour, short and intensive, and the content is compact, equivalent to a series.

Because of this drama, the midnight scene of hk's cinema line is extremely popular recently, and the entire East Asian cinema line has set off a wave.

Hearing that the videotape can earn a lot of foreign exchange, Xiao Jinlang couldn't help but move. He looked at Director Chen who followed him, and it turned out that his heart beat, and he had the idea of ​​making more points and making more money.

"Will this be written in the report?" Chen Mu whispered.

Lao Xiao was just awkward, but he turned to Su Su as a good girl dedicated to the development of the country. He didn't even look at Chen. He said with integrity, "If you want to write, you write. I don't see it."

Xiao Jinlang, you old fox!

Director Chen thought to himself: "How do you let me write about this? In case something goes wrong, who is to blame for it? Who is it? I'm not consulting with you to unify the caliber."

The converted studio of the warehouse worked late. The crew is all night owls, and the spirit gets deeper into the night. Lao Xiao watched the filming, he really gained insights, but he came out after half an hour.

"Ouyang, isn't President Zhou coming to HK? Where is he?"

Ouyang Jun also spread his hands, "I don't know. When I went ashore, I called Mr. Zhou's number on hk, but it didn't work.

The dock pick-up said that the 'environmental protection' industry has been hot recently, and HK has produced a lot of low-quality piracy, which caused us a lot of losses. The president is here to deal with piracy. "

Piracy?

loss?

Xiao Jinlang suddenly became angry, and even Director Chen was furious.

Is it easy for me to earn some foreign exchange? Face is gone, hard work only to find a way to get rich. It's only been a few days that some people have come to the tiger's mouth to eat food. Impatient.

"Who's so bold?" Chief Chen rushed to ask, "Do you want to help? Mainland China still has a little influence on HK."

Ouyang narrowed his neck and shook his head: "I don't know too well. It is said that they are a group of poor Vietnamese.

They are brave and not afraid of death, what they do to make money. President Zhou knew that afterwards he only said ‘oh’, and then disappeared.

The local staff of hk said that it is not us who should worry now, but the group of Vietnamese. They were even happy, as if waiting for a show. "

Lao Xiao and Chen Chu looked at each other and did not understand.

In the 1970s, as the 'Vietnam War' ended, US troops withdrew from South Vietnam, and a large number of Vietnamese refugees fled into HK. These people are poor and bitter. They often fight in downtown areas, causing hk law and order to be quite chaotic for a time.

Because the poor has only one bad life left, Vietnamese immigrants have always lived at the bottom. Their footprints are all over the world, and the feeling to outsiders is ‘black and thin, bearable, and fierce’.

This time, when I saw the "environmental protection" comics on the market, the money came quickly, and there was no technical content. Someone wanted to get a share of it.

HK local gang was beaten twice by Zhou Qingfeng. In particular, the second time he was baptized in blood, the whole hall disappeared overnight and it really scared a lot of people.

But the Vietnamese were not scared. Their circles are closed and they hardly communicate with the outside world. They don't even care about or even hear the rumors on the market. They only see the opportunity to make money.

As a result of this middle of the night, a 'Jialing' motorcycle carrying a young man was rumbling towards the northern district of hk New Territories. This is an area close to the Shenzhen River, and a large amount of farmland is retained after thirty years.

Without gps and unfamiliar with the road, the young man pinched a map to move around the residential buildings in the North District. It took me a long time to find a cluttered residential area.

Most of the shabby streets are buildings from the 1950s and 1960s. The signboards in the stores are short of pens and paintings, and have nothing to do with the international metropolis.

It was late, and only the orioles standing on the street were walking around. Occasionally, people appear in the market, either for the salty and wet guys who are looking for joy, or for the unruly little bitch.

The young man stopped on the motorcycle in front of Liu Ying, pulled out a large amount of Hong Kong dollars, and beckoned.

"Boss, follow me." Liu Ying, who was exposed to the clothes, carried a small bag, and stepped forward to the young man. She couldn't see the face of the young man wearing a helmet, and could only glance at the motorcycle the other party was riding.

This motorcycle is so big, it is one circle bigger than the normal Jialing motorcycle. There have also been some changes in its shape, which are more streamlined. The engine sound is more muted, representing strong power.

The young man did not get out of the car and shoved the banknotes into the underwear button on Liu Ying's chest.

He didn't take off his helmet, only spread out the map in his hand, and asked, "I'm in an underground printing factory. It should be run by a Vietnamese, but I don't know where it is?"

When he heard that he was looking for Vietnamese, Liu Ying turned his head and left.

The young man grabbed his arm and forced Liuying to turn around and begged: "Brother, the money is returned to you. I don't want to cause trouble."

"You've got something wrong." The young man pressed hard and asked, "Either you tell that underground printing house? Or I pinch your hand? You choose one."

Liu Ying, pinched by the strength of the young man, screamed and shook his head. Other streaming warbler in the street market stunned.

Not long after, two thin little sister-in-laws ran out in the dark corner, yelling at the young man and yelling.

At this moment, the young man realized that he seemed to have reached the target group's territory, because the Cantonese accent of the two little sister-in-law was obviously strange.

"I'm looking for an underground printing factory. It is estimated that there are so many old machines, seven or eight workers, and a group of Vietnamese are leading the way."

The young man stepped forward on his motorcycle, strangling the little sister-in-law's throat on the left. The little sister-in-law on the right didn't see his opponent's movements immediately, and immediately realized that it was not good enough, turned his head and ran, yelling along the way.

The young man fainted the little **** in his hand. The heavy-duty motorcycle kept up with the escaping one and turned into the alley beside the community street.

The alley was narrow, less than two meters wide.

There is domestic sewage flowing on the ground, and the sewer pipes here must have been blocked.

There were many drying racks on both sides of the alley, and the escaped little sister-in-law screamed and tore the drying clothes to the ground. Heavy motorcycle tires ran over, splashing with sewage, leaving clear wheel marks.

At the end of the alley was an open house, and behind the rusty metal door came several skinny, short, but aggressive men. They heard the little sister-in-law's shout, and rushed forward.

The area of ​​the tin house is quite large. Under the light, you can see several printing presses working inside. The sound of paper printing is endless, and it has a great sense of rhythm.

When the young man's motorcycle drove forward, a fierce leader emerged from the tin house, holding an akm-47 in his hand, and yelling fiercely.

It's scary.

Finally found the right place.