"I was born around 1970, in a small village 170 kilometers east of the city of Mandalay in central Myanmar, where I can't ......remember who my parents were."

The sun is slowly setting,

An old-fashioned oil lamp was lit in the concierge room, and the flames were like beans, and there was a faint smoke of plants and trees, which was slightly choking, reminiscent of the inferior ink of the old days.

Uncle Alai may be curious to see what this kid who doesn't know what kind of name he is selling.

Or maybe it's just that the news of the Myanmar Mirror has brought back memories of the past eventful era.

He was silent for a few minutes, and then he actually began to tell his story.

The janitor's voice was hoarse, but his tone was rhythmic.

When it is narrated, it is like an old medieval bard singing a long narrative poem.

Gu Weijing didn't wait for the last stroke before drawing this line drawing.

Ten minutes after the janitor uncle began to narrate, he began to write slowly.

It's just that the pen is very slow, and the slow one can't be called a sketch.

He first traced the outline of Uncle Alai's appearance with white drawing, and then listened to the doorman's narration, occasionally with a flash of inspiration in his mind, and then slowly sketched one or two lines to capture the momentary look on the uncle's face.

With the sound of the rustling tip of the pen and paper sliding over the sketch paper, Gu Weijing had a hunch that this might be the highest-level line sketch series he painted.

The first half of the gatekeeper's story is almost an inspirational portrayal of life trying to change his fate.

He was born in the seventies, the most chaotic era in Myanmar.

The United Nations rated Myanmar as the least developed region in the world at the time.

Warlords, Civil Wars,

In the primeval jungle of the Golden Triangle, there are even remnants of the national army who will be defeated and cut the land as king.

At that time, the whole country was poor to death.

The civil war was fought every year, and the more drugs were confiscated.

Everyone knows that a drug is a dollar.

In the farmland of the Golden Triangle, poppies are all over the mountains, with a breathtaking beauty.

The drug economy is like a tube of Fushou ointment that makes addicts die and struggle, and in the curling smoke, it takes the whole country and nation to hell together.

Drugs for dollars, dollars for arms, arms fight civil war to grab drugs. This logical closed loop has been in use in the Golden Triangle for 70 years.

Like many of the children in the Good Luck Orphanage, Uncle Alai himself is a drug orphan whose parents died in the fire of warlords fighting over a 3,000-acre poppy field.

The drug lords of the Golden Triangle in the 70s were much fiercer than their American predecessors.

When the drug dealers in San Francisco, Chicago, and Atlantic City were at their most arrogant, they used Chicago typewriters to shoot at the police department's SWAT team all day long.

A young painter named Bill Finger had the privilege of witnessing every day of the drug lord's shootout, and felt that this place was a fucking hell of sin.

Later, he used this as inspiration to create "Gotham", a classic dark crime city in American comics.

Compared to the Golden Triangle, Bill's guilty hell clearly lacks enough imagination.

What kind of pediatrics is it to beat the Thomson submachine gun,

Southeast Asia's big drug lords and warlords, all of whom control armed forces of thousands or even tens of thousands, clash in the dark, with mines, heavy machine guns, flamethrowers, massive artillery and even armored vehicles.

The interest came up, and slaughtering a village was the same as playing.

"I don't care who my parents are or how they died. They may be innocent villagers who have been victimized, or they may be involved with one side of the war. ”

Uncle Alai said nonchalantly: "Even just a drug dealer, who knows?" ”

Uncle Alai is luckier than most drug orphans in that he was adopted by his own "Abba" when he was very young.

His "Abba" was a country teacher.

The teacher was an old-fashioned old gentleman who had attended a free church school in the old days and was fluent in English and French.

The greatest achievement of the teaching craftsman in his life is to teach a few successful students.

And Uncle Alai is the most competitive of them.

He was the first young man within a radius of 100 kilometers to be admitted to the best national military academy in Myanmar.

When Uncle Alai went to the military academy, Abba's health was already very bad.

Alai kowtowed three times in front of his adoptive father's bed to say goodbye, and the teacher just patted him on the shoulder and whispered, "Alai, be a good person and live well." ”

Studying, going to school, military school, anti-narcotics, stationed abroad......

Uncle Alai's life before the age of forty is called bitter and sweet, and the spring breeze is proud, although there are many bitter pains that are not enough for outsiders, but everything is good.

The peace agreement, the fall of Khun Sa, and the entry into the top.

"Brother Gu, you don't understand, when I was in my thirties, I drove an open-top military jeep in front of Yangon City Hall Boulevard, and the guards stood up to salute me...... What a beautiful scenery it is. He said softly.

Gu Weijing looked intently, when the silent janitor told this past, his tone was still calm, but it still made people feel that his face was full of irrepressible smiles and pride.

Gu Weijing caught the subtle arc of the corner of the uncle's mouth and fell on the pen.

This smile,

Unless you trace it one by one, you can't imagine such a subtle arc and brilliance for how long you sit in the studio.

The feeling of the corners of the mouth slightly rising is beyond words to describe, with a far more penetrating appeal than laughing.

This is a man's heroism that can only bloom between his eyebrows after he has done something that he is proud of at his strongest age.

Eye-catching and fascinating.

Even if he later fell to the bottom, volunteering day after day in an orphanage, he could not erase the flying spirit that he once remembered.

"Then it was the turning point in my life."

Uncle Alai suddenly fell silent, he stroked the newspaper on the table, the smile in his eyes dissipated little by little, and only endless loneliness remained.

"Three trucks."

Uncle Alley gently held out three fingers.

"Three trucks? What do you mean. Gu Weijing was a little puzzled.

"I was still in charge of some of the anti-narcotics work, and I had soldiers on the road to the harbor to load ships, and they seized a convoy with three trucks full of high-purity heroin." Uncle Alai said softly.

"Just three cars?"

"Just three? Brother Gu, do you know how much these methamphetamine are worth? The janitor looked at the young man in the ivory tower and asked with a smile.

"Hundreds of thousands of dollars?"

Gu Weijing shook his head.

He only heard that the rich brother who had been expelled from Dulwich College for playing psychedelic drugs was said to cost hundreds of dollars a week just for taking drugs.

But how much is three truckloads of heroin worth, Gu Weijing really has no idea.

"At the height of drug prohibition in North America, high-purity heroin used to fetch $200 a gram, four times more expensive than the same weight of gold." Uncle Alai shrugged.

"Based on my experience in drug enforcement, these three truckloads of heroin are worth at least $390 million. And that's just the market price at the place of origin. If it gets to the United States, it's easy to get at least $500 million. Japan or Singapore may be able to sell for a billion, if it is successfully transported to Dongxia, where the drug is most strictly prohibited......"

Uncle Alai made a joke: "Maybe you can probably be on the rich list, right?" ”

$390 million?

Even Gu Weijing, a person with a very weak view of money, was shocked by this number.

Sure enough, war and drugs are the most lucrative industries in the world.

Equally crazy is probably the high-end art industry.

"And the convoy of transport is all military vehicles." Uncle Alai added gently.

Gu Weijing was silent.

He knew that with the chaos in Southeast Asia, the person who dared to use a convoy with a military license plate to transport hundreds of millions of dollars of heroin in Yangon must be a big man with his hands and eyes.

"Whose goods?"

Uncle Alai whispered the name of a great warlord general who everyone in Rangoon had heard of, and who had belonged to the Emperor of the Turks in central Burma.

After the armistice, most of the Burmese warlords no longer fight with government forces.

In exchange, many of these big warlords, who still have descendants, have moved into the upper echelons of the government.

belong to the real power of the state.

"No wonder."

Gu Weijing shook his head, moved these people's goods, and knew how much pressure would be pressed over when he thought about it.

"I can't even remember how many big people were calling me that day to make me smarter. How many generals have sent me telegrams ordering me to let go? ”

Uncle Alai smiled and tapped lightly on the table: "The adjutant of the great warlord drove me to me with two sacks of dollars in the trunk. ”

"It's not a suitcase from a TV series, it's really the kind of big sack of burlap that holds flour, and the benefits of two sacks are full of green dollars. The adjutant said that he had originally prepared $2 million, but the bag really couldn't fit it, so he only brought about $1.87 million in total. Please raise my noble hand. ”

"The big warlord also called me personally, told me to be smarter and mess with him, and promised me to be a general within five years."

"How do you do that?"

"How can I let it go, how can I let it go."

Uncle Alai whispered, his eyebrows and eyes sharpened a little, the green tendons in the corners of his eyes twitched, and his teeth clenched, as if he was chewing a piece of hard pig iron.

"I'm an anti-narcotics soldier, but I promised Abba...... Be a good person! He let out a fierce breath, and his facial features were hideous like a madman.

Gu Weijing slowly clenched the pen.

If Uncle Alai had agreed to the other party's conditions, he would definitely not have fallen to the point where he is now.

But if this matter is poked out, it should not be silent.

Hundreds of millions of dollars in heroin is definitely a super case that is enough to attract global attention, and it is common for it to be tracked and reported for several years.

"So I ...... He ordered his men to transport all these goods to the primeval jungle outside Yangon, poured gasoline on them and destroyed them, and then ordered them to be closed. ”

Heroin can decompose in a few hundred degrees, and gasoline burns hot enough to destroy drugs.

The janitor's tone became flattened: "It is said that for several weeks, the monkeys and birds within a radius of ten kilometers were particularly irritable. ”

"That's it?"

Gu Weijing had some regrets.

Looking at Uncle Alai's fierce expression just now, he thought that he could hear some wonderful story about the brave warlord.

"What else?" The uncle glared at Gu Weijing.

"I didn't let it go because I promised Abba, to be a good person. I don't poke it out because I want to live well. Unfortunately, I want to settle the matter...... People still don't want to let me go. ”

The janitor smiled lonely.

Hundreds of millions of dollars of goods turned into smoke, I don't know how many people have been offended, Uncle Alai wants to act as if this incident has not happened, but the warlord boss is unwilling.

The rest of the story is very cliché.

It didn't take long for Uncle Alai to be suspended for interrogation, and then he was put in prison with a non-warranted hat, which was supposed to be shot, that is, a few old superiors desperately protected him, so he barely picked up a life.

The janitor spent three years in prison and endured a lot of hardship. The mountains of corpses and the sea of blood have all come over, but they have a limp leg in the national prison.

"Do you know what's the most black humor about this?"

The corners of the janitor's mouth twitched miserably.

"When I came out of prison, I found out that the big warlord had been killed by his opponent in a political struggle six months earlier, and I heard that the whole family had fed the crocodiles together, and he didn't fucking live long enough. I lost everything, and I didn't even have a person to take revenge on. ”

Uncle Alai had a hollow look in his eyes and shook his head: "Drug lords sell drugs, and officials also sell drugs." Drug lords harm people, and so do officials. A moment ago, he was a butcher who had lost his conscience, and signed a ceasefire agreement under the mediation of the United Nations, shook hands and changed his skin, and he was your boss. Brother Gu, this is the way of heaven in this land. ”

"Good people don't live long, bad people have a gold belt." Uncle Alai spoke like a philosopher at the moment.

"I can see clearly, where is the good thing for those who are rich and in power? Brother Gu, you can study art in an international school, you are a rich young master who rolled out of the pile of gold and jade, I believe that your compassion and kindness are true, and I like you very much. ”

"But dare you say that the adults in your family are so clean when they get rich? The money of the rich people here is too dirty for me to take it, so don't talk about hiring me. ”

Uncle Alley smiled and waved his hand.

Gu Weijing looked at the empty eyes of the gatekeeper without joy or sorrow, and was a little speechless for a while.

The great philosopher said that in the process of primitive accumulation of capital, every pore carries filthy blood. In fact, Uncle Alai may not have experienced the ups and downs of life, and he has any deep understanding and understanding of ideology.

Gu Weijing feels that his state is more similar to that of Akutagawa Ryunosuke's pen, the kind of world-weary worldview of sadness and depression after suffering.

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, and there is no boundary between the world and hell.

Gu Weijing caught Uncle Alai's eyes at this moment, and remembered Cao Lao's finishing touch.

He looked at the drawing paper on the sketch paper that was still blank in his eyes, and suddenly there was a sudden feeling in his heart.

(End of chapter)