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

In this life, encounters are bound to happen unexpectedly. To my surprise, after the ruckus I had caused at the casino earlier in the afternoon, I now found myself face-to-face with this enchanting woman again. 


She sat alone, having chosen a table by the window. My curiosity about her was undeniable, but approaching strangers was never my forte. 


Turning to Eden Martha, I inquired, “Eden, are you acquainted with someone named Meilu?” 


The name Meilu was one I had gleaned from Old Master Zou. It seemed to be an alias my father had used while traversing the world. 


Without hesitation, Eden Martha replied, “Of course! In Jingmen, who hasn’t heard of the illustrious Meilu? However, I must advise you to refrain from mentioning that name around here…” 


“Why is that?” I pressed for an explanation. 


Chapter 318: The Art of Flirting