During the years when I ascended to the pinnacle of gambling, I was enveloped in a world where luck intertwined seamlessly with strategy. The thrill of risk was my constant companion, and every hand dealt was an opportunity to weave a tale of fortune and fate.

In those vibrant nights, the casino lights flickered like stars, each glimmer promising untold possibilities. The air was thick with the scent of anticipation and the intoxicating perfume of ambition. My every decision was calculated, and executed with precision, as I danced with the tides of chance, confident in my ability to bend them to my will.

I became known not only for my remarkable skill but also for a certain charisma that drew others to me. Players regarded me with a mix of admiration and trepidation, for I was not merely a participant in the game—I was its master. The cards whispered secrets to me, and I understood the language of the dice as if they belonged to a realm where I reigned supreme.

Yet, amidst the glamour and glory, this intoxicating world concealed its shadows. The very allure that elevated me to greatness also harboured treachery and deception. I found myself ensnared in a web woven by those who coveted my prowess, eager to see me fall from grace.

In those years, I walked a fine line between triumph and disaster, relishing every victory while remaining ever-vigilant against the unseen perils that lurked in the shadows.

The Years I Was The Gambling God

At the mountain's base, a statue of the God of Fortune stood tall, over two meters high, gleaming in golden hues. 


In front of the statue loomed a massive incense burner, shrouded in swirling smoke. 


The craftsmanship of the statue was exquisite, its expression and demeanour rendered with remarkable lifelikeness. 


This was the manifestation of the God of Fortune, Han Xin. 


Flanking the statue were several individuals. 


A casual glance sent me into a brief shock—Mad Kun and Huang Run were amidst the crowd. 


Though their appearances were largely unchanged, the scars of disfigurement twisted their faces into a more grotesque semblance, evoking disdain. 


Surprisingly, Huang Run appeared more attractive than before, her figure seeming fuller even in the winter layers she wore, exuding an alluring presence. 


Mad Kun’s eyes locked onto mine as recognition ignited a frown on his face, prompting him to glance away. 


Chapter 222: Ascending the Mountain