Small tiger

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

I endeavoured to calm my tumultuous emotions. 


How could Su Mei possibly be a master gambler? 


As I contemplated our shared history, several revelations surfaced. Notably, after our initial mahjong game, she had observed that my hands resembled those of an experienced gambler. Moreover, during my last disguise at the Tianxiang Building, she discerned my altered appearance merely by noting my seemingly inconspicuous habit of pinching the cigarette filter. That night by the wonton stall, she expressed her disdain for the life of a gambler. Furthermore, during Master Zou's celebration in the garden, she made a rather disquieting remark: “All the scenery here is constructed from the accumulated bones of gamblers.” 


Could it be that Su Mei truly was an expert in gambling? 


Chapter 271: The Indolent Donkey at the Mill