"I was born around 1970, in a small village 170 kilometers east of Mandalay, a city in central Myanmar. There is no mark on the map. I can't remember who my parents are."
The setting sun slowly set,
an old-fashioned oil lamp was lit in the concierge’s room. The flame was as bright as a bean, and there was a faint smell of grass and wood smoke, which was slightly choking, reminding people of the old days. of inferior ink.
Uncle Alai may be curious to see what this ignorant kid is selling.
Maybe it was just the news from the Myanmar Mirror that brought back memories of the past prosperous times.
He was silent for a few minutes and then actually started to tell his story.
The gatekeeper’s voice is hoarse, but his tone is very rhythmic.
When he spoke, it was like an ancient medieval bard singing a long narrative poem.
Gu Weijing did not wait for the last stroke to draw this line drawing.
Ten minutes after the janitor began to narrate, he began to write slowly.
It’s just that the writing is very slow, and it can’t even be called sketching.
He first traced the outline of Uncle Alai with a line drawing, and then listened to the janitor's narration. Occasionally, a light flashed in his mind, and then he slowly sketched out one or two lines. , to capture the momentary look on the uncle’s face.
With the sound of the rustling pen tip sliding across the sketch paper, Gu Weijing had a premonition that this might be the highest level painting in his series of line drawing sketches.
The first half of the janitor's story is almost an inspirational portrayal of life trying to change one's destiny.
He was born in the 1970s, the most chaotic era in Myanmar.
The United Nations rated Myanmar as the least developed region in the world at that time.
Warlords, civil war,
In the primeval jungle of the Golden Triangle, there are even defeated remnants of the national army who cede territory to themselves as kings.
At that time, the whole country was extremely poor.
The civil war rages on every year, and more and more drugs are collected.
Everyone knows that growing drugs means growing dollars.
In the farmland of the Golden Triangle, poppies bloom all over the mountains and plains, bringing with them breathtaking beauty.
The drug economy is like a tube of opium that makes addicts struggle to death. In the curl of smoke, it takes the entire country and nation to sink into hell.
Drugs are exchanged for dollars, dollars are exchanged for arms, and arms are used to fight civil war and drugs are stolen. This logical closed loop has been popular in the Golden Triangle for seventy years.
Like many children in the Lucky Orphanage, Uncle Alai himself was a drug orphan. Both his parents died in a fire war between warlords fighting for control of a 3,000-acre poppy field.
The drug lords in the Golden Triangle in the 1970s were much more powerful than their American predecessors.
When the drug dealers in San Francisco, Chicago, and Atlantic City were at their most arrogant, they used Chicago typewriters all day long.He was shooting at the police station's SWAT team.
A young painter named Bill Finger was lucky enough to witness the scenes of gun battles between drug lords every day, and felt that this place was simply a fucking hell of sin.
Later, I used this as inspiration to create "Gotham", a classic dark crime city in American comics.
Compared with the Golden Triangle, the sinful hell written by Bill’s classmate obviously lacks enough imagination.
Hitting a Thompson submachine gun is nothing more than childishness.
The major drug lords and warlords in Southeast Asia control thousands or even tens of thousands of armed forces. When they clash, they fight The sky was dark, and mines, heavy machine guns, flamethrowers, large-scale artillery and even armored vehicles charged.
The mood is up. Killing a village is like playing.
"I don't care who my parents are or how they died. Maybe they were innocent villagers who were affected, or maybe they were involved with a certain party in the war."
Uncle Alai He said casually, "He might even be a drug dealer, who knows?"
Uncle Alai is luckier than most drug orphans because he was adopted by his "father" when he was very young. .
His "Abba" is a teacher in the countryside.
The teacher is an old gentleman with an old-fashioned character. He attended a free church school in the old days and is proficient in English and French.
The greatest achievement of a teacher who has worked hard all his life is to teach a few successful students.
Uncle Alai is the most ambitious among them.
He is the first young man within a radius of 100 kilometers to be admitted to Myanmar's best national military academy.
When Uncle Alai went to the military academy, his father's health was already very bad.
Alai kowtowed three times in front of his adoptive father's bed to say goodbye. The teacher just patted his shoulder and said softly, "Alai, be a good person and live well."
Reading , school, military academy, anti-narcotics, stationed abroad
Uncle Alai’s life before the age of forty can be said to be full of hardships and joys, and he was very happy. Although there were many hardships that were not humane to outsiders, everything was for the best. of.
Peace agreement, Khun Sa's fall, and entry to the top.
“Brother Gu, you don’t understand. When I was in my thirties, I drove an open-top military jeep past Yangon City Hall Avenue, and the guards stood at attention and saluted me. How beautiful the time is." He said softly.
Gu Weijing looked at it intently. When the silent gatekeeper told this past incident, his tone was still calm, but it still made people feel that his face was full of uncontrollable smiles and pride. .
Gu Weijing captured the subtle arc at the corner of the uncle's mouth and wrote it down.
This kind of smile,
Unless you trace it stroke by stroke against the model, you will not be able to imagine such a mysterious arc and smile out of thin air even if you sit in the studio for any length of time. Brilliance.
The feeling of the corners of the mouth rising slightly cannot be described in words, and it has a far more penetrating appeal than a hearty laugh.
This is the heroic spirit that can bloom in the eyes of a man when he is at his strongest and has done something that makes him proud.
Dazzling and fascinating.
Even if he later hit rock bottom and worked as a volunteer in an orphanage day after day, it could not wipe away the high-spirited spirit he once remembered.
"Then it was the turning point of my life."
Uncle Alai suddenly fell into silence. He stroked the newspaper on the table, with a little smile in his eyes. Dissipated and dissolved, leaving only endless loneliness.
"Three trucks."
Uncle Alai gently stretched out three fingers.
"What do you mean three trucks?" Gu Weijing expressed some confusion.
“I was still in charge of part of the anti-narcotics work at the time, and my soldiers seized a convoy on the road to the seaport for shipment, including three trucks filled with high-purity heroin. "Uncle Alai said softly.
"Just three cars"
"Just three cars. Brother Gu, do you know how much these methamphetamines are worth?" The gatekeeper looked at the young man in the ivory tower and smiled. Asked with a smile.
"Hundreds of thousands of dollars"
Gu Weijing shook his head.
He only heard that the rich guy who was once expelled from Dulwich High School for playing psychedelic drugs was said to cost several hundred dollars a week just for taking drugs.
But Gu Weijing really had no idea how much three trucks of heroin were worth.
“When drug prohibition was the most stringent in North America, high-purity heroin could be sold for over 200 US dollars per gram, which was four times more expensive than gold of the same weight.” Uncle Alai shrugged.
"Based on my experience in anti-narcotics, these three trucks of heroin are worth at least 390 million U.S. dollars. This is just the market price in the place of shipment. If it is shipped to the United States, it will easily cost at least 500 million U.S. dollars. Japan Or Singapore, maybe it can be sold for one billion, if it is successfully shipped to Dongxia, where the drug ban is strictest."
Uncle Alai made a joke, "Maybe he can be on the rich list."
< p>390 million US dollarsEven a person like Gu Weijing, who has a very weak view of money, was shocked by this figure.
As expected, war and drugs are the most profitable industries in the world.
The only one that is equally crazy may be the high-end art industry.
"And the transport convoys are all military vehicles." Uncle Alai added gently.
Gu Weijing was silent.
He knew that given the chaos in Southeast Asia, anyone who dared to use a military-branded convoy to transport hundreds of millions of dollars of heroin in Yangon must be a big shot with great hands and eyes.
"Whose goods?"
Uncle Alai whispered the name of a great warlord general that everyone in Yangon had heard of, who once belonged to the Turkish emperor in central Myanmar.
After the armistice agreement, most warlords in Myanmar have stopped fighting against government forces.
In exchange, many of these big warlords who still have direct troops have entered the upper echelons of the government.
Belong to the real rights holders in the country.
"No wonder."
Gu Weijing shook his head and touched these people's goods. Just thinking about it, he knew how much pressure would come over him.
"I can't even remember how many big shots called me that day to tell me to be smarter. How many generals gave me telegrams to order me to let them go."
Alai The uncle smiled and knocked on the table lightly. "The adjutant of the great warlord drove up to me with two sacks of dollars in the trunk."
"It's not the suitcase in the TV series, it's really like that." There were two large sacks of flour and two sacks of benefits, all filled with green dollars. The adjutant said that he had originally prepared 2 million US dollars, but the bags could not hold them, so he only brought about 1.87 million US dollars in total. Please show your respect."
"The big warlord even called me and told me to be smarter and fool around with him, promising that I would become a general within five years."
"How did you do it? "It's done"
"How can I let it go? How can I let it go?"
Uncle Alai said softly, his eyebrows became sharper and sharper at the corners of his eyes. The veins twitched and the teeth clenched tightly, as if chewing a piece of hard pig iron.
"I am an anti-narcotics soldier, but I promised my father that I would be a good person." He breathed out fiercely, and his facial features were as ferocious as that of a madman.
Gu Weijing slowly tightened his grip on the pen.
If Uncle Alai had agreed to the other party’s conditions, he would definitely not be in the situation he is in now.
But if this matter is revealed, it should not remain silent.
Hundreds of millions of dollars of heroin is definitely a huge case that can attract global attention. It is common for it to be followed and reported for several years.
"So I ordered my men to transport all these goods to the virgin jungle on the outskirts of Yangon, pour gasoline on them and destroy them, and then ordered the team to close."
Heroin can be dissolved at a few hundred degrees It can decompose, and the high temperature of gasoline burning is enough to destroy the drugs.
The gatekeeper's tone became calmer, "It is said that for several weeks, the monkeys and birds contaminated by the smoke within a radius of ten kilometers were particularly agitated."
"That's it"< /p>
Gu Weijing was a little regretful.
Looking at Uncle Alai’s fierce expression just now, he thought he could hear some exciting story about fighting against a great warlord.
"What else?" The uncle glared at Gu Weijing.
"I didn't let him go because I promised my father that I would be a good person. I didn't expose him because I just wanted to live a good life. Unfortunately, even though I wanted to settle the matter, they still didn't want to let him go. Me."
The gatekeeper smiled lonely.
Hundreds of millions of dollars of goods turned into flying smoke, I don’t knowHow many people have been offended? Uncle Alai wants to pretend that this incident never happened, but the warlord is not willing to do so.
The rest of the story is very cliche.
It didn’t take long for Uncle Alai to be suspended for investigation, and then imprisoned under an unwarranted label. He was originally going to be shot, but a few old superiors tried their best to protect him. Barely saved a life.
The janitor spent three years in prison and suffered a lot. He walked through mountains of corpses and seas of blood, but ended up with a limp in the state prison.
"Do you know what is the most darkly humorous thing about this matter?"
The corner of the gatekeeper's mouth twitched sadly.
“When I came out of prison, I learned that the great warlord was also killed by his opponent in the political struggle six months ago. I heard that the whole family fed the crocodiles together, but he still fucking I will not live as long as I did. I lost everything, and in the end I didn’t even have anyone to take revenge on.” Uncle Alai’s eyes were empty and he shook his head, “Drug lords sell drugs, and officials also sell drugs. It’s also harmful to people. A moment ago, he was a heartless butcher. He signed a ceasefire agreement under the mediation of the United Nations, and he became your boss. "Brother Gu, this is the way of this land."
"Good people don't live long, bad people have golden belts." Uncle Alai sounded like a philosopher at this moment.
"I finally see it clearly. There are no good things among those who are rich and in power. Brother Gu, if you can study art in an international school, you are a rich young man who came from a pile of gold and jade. I believe Your compassion and kindness are real, and I like you very much."
"But you dare to say that the money of the rich here is so dirty. I don’t want to take it, so don’t talk about hiring me.”
Uncle Alai smiled and waved.
Gu Weijing looked at the gatekeeper's empty eyes with no joy or sorrow, and was speechless for a moment.
The great philosopher once said that in the process of primitive accumulation of capital, every pore is filled with dirty blood. In fact, Uncle Alai may not have experienced the ups and downs of life, and has no deep understanding and understanding of ideology.
Gu Weijing felt that his state was more similar to the world-weary world view of sadness and depression after suffering in the works of Ryunosuke Akutagawa.
The world is like a Rashomon,
People eat people, people step on people.
Dark and chaotic, lifeless. If you want to live, good people will become bad people. There is no dividing line between the world and hell.
Gu Weijing caught Uncle Alai’s eyes at this moment and remembered Mr. Cao’s finishing touch.
Looking at the blank space between the eyes on the sketch paper, he suddenly felt enlightened. Please remember to collect it, the latest and fastest website is free to read without anti-theft