Huang Yiliang, the only man in Singapore to successfully transition from winning Star Awards to winning a mandatory stay in a high-security cell, is now a humble fishmonger.

The 64-year-old has announced that he is "ordinary," which is a polite way of saying his bank account is now as dry as a script for a modern Channel 8 drama.

By 7am, the former Mediacorp star is at MacPherson Market scaling fish, finally using the hand-eye coordination he perfected as a Best Supporting Assailant.

Huang, who famously graduated from "Changi University" after a minor misunderstanding involving a Bangladeshi worker and a metal scraper, says he has finally put his pride in the longkang.

It turns out that when you lose your driving license for five years for smashing into a cyclist, your career options for "Action Star" are limited to walking 400 meters to a frying pan.

The actor now spends his lunch breaks at "Old Fisherman" frying crabs, a trade he claims he learned from cellmates who were clearly Michelin-star consultants for the local underworld.

"I wanted to sell durian or crab," Huang said, choosing the two things in Singapore that are tougher to kill than his own public infamy.

His signature Crab Mee Hoon costs $40, which is still cheaper than the legal settlements he had to pay for acting like a kanina siao lang on a construction site.

While he designs his own stalls using Taobao, Huang remains estranged from his famous daughter, who likely views his "ordinary" life as a valid reason to block him on WhatsApp.

The former plumber and insurance agent says he is cost-conscious, which is a nice way to say he can't afford to hire anyone who has the legal standing to sue him for workplace abuse.

He claims his movie Autumn in March was a learning experience, though most Sinkies remember it as a crime against cinematography that deserved its own 10-month jail sentence.

Fellow hawkers have been helping the blur-like-fuck actor with his gas stove, ensuring he doesn’t accidentally cremate the market like he did his professional reputation.

Some of his former cellmates even visit the stall, providing a lovely atmosphere where you can enjoy your seafood while checking if your handphone is still in your pocket.

Huang claims he is happy being "ordinary," which is the standard Singaporean cope for realizing you have to work until your ghost leaves your body.

Ultimately, if the crab business fails, Huang can always return to his true passion: assaulting people who are just trying to earn a living.