1 Chapter 1

(This story is based on real events, but all names and places are fictional)

Some say that where there are people, there is darkness. Some say that this society should not condone violence. Some say that gang members value brotherhood above all else, that brotherhood is greater than the heavens. But in my eyes, the gangster life is like a game of chess. We can't make our own decisions about what we want to do, and there is no turning back. I will use my own experiences to tell you what the gangster life is really like.

The Memphis First Prison— with the sound of heavy doors opening, two men walked out of the prison. One was dressed in a uniform, while the other, wearing a thick cotton coat, carried a cloth bag in his hand. Without a doubt, the two were a prison guard and a convict who had just completed his sentence. That convict was me! The guard approached me, took out a twenty-dollar bill from his pocket, handed it to me, and sighed:

"John, behave yourself from now on, and don't get into trouble anymore! Go on, and remember, don't look back, it's bad luck!"

"Officer James, thank you!"

Officer James had been particularly kind to me in prison, and he was a rather amiable person compared to the other fierce guards. He was considered a good officer among the prison staff.

I bid farewell to Officer James and, braving the heavy snowflakes, trudged through the snow to the bus stop.

My name is John, and I became an orphan when I was five years old, growing up in the house of my aunt and uncle.

I used to be an excellent student, a source of pride for my aunt, and the kind of child that people would refer to as the "model child" from a good family.

But that all changed three years ago, during the summer. After finishing my tense exams, I went to a restaurant to celebrate with several classmates, including a girl I liked, Alice.

Unfortunately, we had the misfortune of encountering a few rowdy guys at the next table who were drunk. They made lewd comments about my crush and even tried to touch her.

Hot-headed and young, and with the victim being a girl I liked, I was extremely angry. I picked up a beer bottle and smashed it over the head of one of the troublemakers, which led to me being sentenced to three years in prison.

But what they didn't know was that this John, who had just been released from prison, would become the gang leader who would strike fear into the entire Memphis underworld in a few years…

Sitting on the bus, I leaned half against the cold seat, my gaze fixed on the window, regret swirling in my heart.

Three years of youth spent in prison, missing out on my life, and missing out on that admission to Washington University!

But what puzzled me even more was, why hadn't my aunt's family come to pick me up on my release today? Did they not know I was getting out, or had they completely lost hope in me?

In these three years, my aunt's family had only visited me once, in the first year, when my aunt cried and told me to reform. After that, I never saw my aunt's family again.

Thinking of this, I let out a desolate smile. It seemed that this blood relationship with my relatives might just end here.

Just as I was lost in my thoughts, the driver's loud voice pulled me back to reality.

"Next stop is the Amish village, is anyone getting off?"

"Yes!" I responded, standing up and walking to the back door of the bus. As the vehicle came to a stop, I pushed the door open and stepped down. After the bus left, leaving a trail of exhaust in its wake, I stood looking at the familiar country road, my heart filling with trepidation, unable to take a step for a long time.

"I'm back!" I said with a forced smile, comforting myself as I stepped into the snow, walking step by step towards the home I hadn't seen in three years. The village was still the same, with no significant changes despite my three-year absence.

After ten minutes, I finally arrived at the doorstep of my aunt's house, my face flushed. I couldn't tell if it was from the cold or from a sense of shame. But as I was about to open the door, I was taken aback—the door was chained shut, the locks covered in thick snow, and the snow in the courtyard was ankle-deep, indicating that no one had lived here for a long time.

I felt a sense of loss and confusion: "Could it be that my aunt's family moved away?" Thinking this, I turned and headed to the village's information hub—the local convenience store.

As I entered the store, it was filled with smoke, and the noisy chatter of people playing Texas Hold'em poker fell silent as I walked in. "Hey, isn't this old John's son? He's out!" the store owner called out, waddling towards me with his large belly.

I smiled awkwardly and asked, "Uncle, where is everyone at my aunt's place?"

The store owner waved his hand and said, "Ah, you don't know yet! In your second year inside, your uncle was electrocuted at a construction site!" "The boss compensated with twenty thousand, and then your aunt moved away with your cousin!"

After saying this, the store owner reached for a pack of Eights cigarettes from the shelf and handed them to me, saying, "Take these, son. Your second uncle is giving them to you. Go to the city and take a bath to wash away the bad luck!" "You're twenty-one now, find a job and work hard. You've always been smart; as long as you work hard, you'll make money!"

I took the cigarettes and thanked him. Indeed, I didn't smoke before, but how many people come out of prison without picking up the habit? After thanking my second uncle, I turned and left the store, hearing the whispers of the villagers behind me as I exited.

Holding the pack of Eights, I lit one as I walked through the snow to the village entrance to wait for a ride. I thought I should follow my uncle's advice and find a job in the city first to secure my livelihood.

At the same time, the thought of my aunt moving away filled me with a sense of desolation and loss, realizing that from this point on, I might not have any family left.

As I finished the cigarette, I casually tossed it to the ground, my mind involuntarily conjuring up the images of two people. One was my crush, Alice, whom I hadn't seen in three years and who should be in college by now, starting a new life, while I was just a convict fresh out of prison. The gap between our lives was significant, leaving the feelings we had since high school to remain just that—a high school romance.As the cigarette extinguished in the snow, I bid farewell to the past.

The other person in my mind was a good brother I met in prison, who called himself Da Hu. Da Hu took special care of me in prison. He was sentenced to seven years for a violent fight that resulted in one death, but he had been released the previous autumn.

Da Hu said that he was a big shot in Memphis, with a bathhouse and a hotel under his name. He told me to look for him after I got out of prison, and he could help me live a comfortable life. I remembered his phone number clearly, but I wasn't sure if I should look for him. I knew he was involved with the gang, and I didn't want to go down that path. But with nowhere else to go and considering him as a possible support, I didn't know if he would still remember me after a year with no contact.

After waiting for an hour, my hands and feet numb from the cold, the shaky bus finally arrived. I boarded, paid the fare, and held onto the handrail, crowded among the passengers, my mind replaying Da Hu's number over and over.

…

When I arrived in the city, I looked at the fifteen dollars left in my pocket, sighed, and walked up to a phone booth. I inserted coins into the booth and dialed the number that would change my life…