Beihai, Summer 1996. The "Lu Residence."
This was a sprawling, high-walled estate situated in the heart of the West District. Two white marble lions, each a man's height, stood sentinel before the vermilion gates, radiating a quiet menace in the salty sea breeze.
Inside the study, an administrative map of Beihai was spread across a mahogany desk. Lu Changfeng held a Parker fountain pen, lightly circling several key coordinates: Cape Road, Dijiao Pier, Sanzhong Road, and Tieshan Port.
"Changhai, you win a kingdom with warriors, but you rule it with 'rules,'" Lu Changfeng said, looking up. His gaze behind the gold-rimmed glasses drifted toward the stone lions outside. "Those who only know how to kill are mere thugs. True power is making everyone realize that without us, the business in Beihai stops spinning."
Beside him, Lu Changhai was stripped to the waist, guzzling a chilled local "Beihai Big Mouth" beer. He wiped his mouth with a careless hand. "Brother, who dares to defy us now? Those who listen get rich; those who don't... well, there's plenty of room at the bottom of the ocean."
"Superficial," Lu Changfeng tapped the map. "Ah Sheng's been moving too slowly lately. Tell him the wholesale price for seafood at the pier must be squeezed tight. It doesn't matter if the fishermen riot. What matters is that our 'distinguished guests' have their appetites satisfied."
That night, at a secluded private club in Tieshan Port.
The VIP suite was thick with the haze of premium Cuban cigars and the scent of expensive imported liquor. Ah Sheng clutched a black leather briefcase, appearing both humble and efficient in the dim light.
Opposite him sat several men in civilian clothes, their expressions relaxed and nonchalant.
"A small token of appreciation from Boss Changfeng," Ah Sheng said, clicking the briefcase open. Stacks of crisp banknotes emitted a seductive scent of fresh ink under the lamp. He lowered his voice, his tone dripping with practiced flattery. "Chief Chen, Section Chief Huang, Director He... Boss Changfeng says the peace and order of Cape Road depend on your hard work. From now on, the cut from the gambling dens will be delivered here punctually every month."
The man addressed as Chief Chen slowly raised his glass, not even glancing at the money. He spoke casually, "Ah Sheng, Changfeng is a man who understands how the world works. Times are tough for everyone. As long as things look clean on the surface, we brothers will naturally make things... convenient."
It was a silent, mutual pact.
From that moment on, the Haicheng Gang wove a "Golden Shield" that covered the entire city.
Under this distorted order, the residents of Cape Road found it increasingly difficult to get through to the police. When one of Changhai's henchmen shot a waiter at a game hall over a petty argument, the case file would mysteriously "vanish" on its way to the precinct. When a massive brawl broke out on the streets, the patrol cars would always arrive fifteen minutes late due to "heavy traffic."
Witnesses collectively became deaf and blind. Even the families of victims would vanish from Beihai overnight after receiving a thick envelope of "consolation money."
Lu Changfeng sat in the attic of the Lu Residence, listening to the distant whistles from the pier. Through Ah Sheng's hands, he transformed "black money" into protective umbrellas. Through the network of his other lieutenants, he pushed the grey businesses of Sanzhong Road to their absolute limit.
He wasn't just collecting protection fees. He was slowly draining the law and morality of the city, pumping it straight into the Lu family's vaults.
"Changhai, this isn't robbery," Lu Changfeng said, closing the map with a chillingly calm tone. "This is called 'asset restructuring.' On this stretch of coast, we are the heavens."
Those were the years of extravagant prosperity for the Haicheng Gang—the darkest golden age of Western Beihai. Shackles made of gold were locked around everyone's neck, yet no one dared to make a sound.