Jin Hongluo spat out a mouthful of blood.
The smell of the sewage in the alley mixed with the smell of blood went straight into his nose. He slumped against the wall and probably had two broken ribs. The three gangsters opposite were weighing the steel pipes in their hands, looking like they were looking at a dead dog.
"Master of Feng Shui?" Huang Mao, the leader, spat, "You've deceived our Brother Long, you're tired of living!"
Jin Hongluo wanted to explain that he was really not responsible for the disaster in the villa. But who believes it? A wild Feng Shui master who can't even afford a compass is a scapegoat in Jiangcheng.
The steel pipe smashed down with the sound of wind.
