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

Upon entering the establishment, my expectations leaned towards the typical revelries of nightlife—an abundance of vibrant lights and intoxicating spirits. However, the Tinghua Building defied such assumptions. 


The grand hall was elegantly adorned with a touch of traditional charm. Beside the bar, a beautiful woman in hanfu skillfully played the guzheng. The lounge area was designed reminiscent of ancient pavilions, with round stone seating and stone-like tables where tea was gently brewed. The enchanting aroma of tea wafted through the air, mingling with the curling wisps of steam. Surrounding the walls were meticulously crafted ink paintings depicting serene landscapes and figures. Were it not for my prior knowledge, I might have mistaken this place for an arts education centre. 


As we made our entrance, a woman in her forties approached us warmly. "Good New Year to you both. May I inquire if you have a reservation?" 


Chapter 304: The Tinghua Building