Chapter Twenty-One: Little Mengchang-The Master Player in the Courtyard(A somewhat irritable fat man)

“Liang, this time it was Zhou Third from those old soldiers who stabbed Liuzi!” “Liang, I know Liuzi was warned by the old soldiers because of the incident with the woman, but he refused to back down, so Zhou Third stabbed him. I suspect it was those damn bastards from the compound, deliberately putting on a show for us!”

Hearing Chen Liang’s question, the rest of the brothers spilled everything they knew, voices overlapping, as if pouring beans from a bamboo tube.

The so-called old soldiers here were not war maniacs who crawled out of piles of corpses, but rather the sons of high-ranking officials from the compound.

In this old city of Forty-Nine, the waters were shallow but full of turtles—those mixing in the underworld outside were the grassroots, called the “masters.”

As for the compound crowd, they disdained mingling with the grassroots, so they gave themselves the name “old soldiers,” distinguishing themselves from the “masters.”

Some may find it hard to believe—sons of the compound mixing in the underworld? But in these times, anything was possible: even wild heroes could overturn their fate.

Unlike the generations to come, where some were born in Rome, and others as oxen and horses. Ah, best not to say more—too much and you’ll invite trouble.

Since the old soldiers were involved, the matter could be big or small. Liuzi had been stabbed, but the vital parts were avoided; though he was physically unharmed, knives were drawn and blood was spilled—a case for the police!