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Sikong Cuo sat on a large wooden crate. He lit a paper-wrapped tobacco roll and held it between two fingers without bringing it to his lips, letting it burn slowly as wisps of smoke curled upward.
This made the tobacco roll seem more like incense than a cigarette.
A subordinate walked in.
Sikong Cuo’s face was obscured by the smoke, his voice calm and indistinct as he asked, “Did you find out?”
“Yes,” the subordinate replied. “The Tiangang Hall’s Spirit Guards captured a local thug. It doesn’t seem to concern us.”
“Good, as long as it doesn’t involve us.” Sikong Cuo nodded. “Tiangang Hall can be considered an old acquaintance of ours. Be cautious and don’t let them notice anything.”
The subordinate nodded in acknowledgment.
At that moment, someone knocked on the door.
The subordinate frowned and walked over to peer through the peephole in the door.
A...
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