Old Ghost has woken up. He knows that Yan Zheng saved him. Although a month of treatment cannot fully heal him, he can take care of his bones when he gets back.
Old Gui is staying in the hospital with peace of mind. There is one thing that can be truly reassured about the island nation: the medical staff are dedicated and responsible and will definitely take care of Old Gui.
Yan Zheng returned to work at the casino, a place where money came quickly with little risk, and where there were extremely cheap basement rooms to live in.
Now Yan Zheng can run around the casino openly and honestly without worrying about anyone checking his household registration.
The mini broom swept even more diligently, and although it still didn't recognize those island nation characters, its bird language became increasingly fluent.
The boss felt a chill run down his spine as he watched Yan Zheng amuse himself; Yan Zheng's handsome face concealed ruthlessness and determination.
The boss repeatedly reminded himself that such people could only be won over, not offended.
The underground boxing tournament is starting again next week, and Yan Zheng needs to get ready. The translator tiptoed over to Yan Zheng's side.
Yan Zheng nodded, he needed someone to practice with, and the translator nodded repeatedly, agreeing enthusiastically.
He also told Yan Zheng a secret: you can place bets on underground boxing matches and bet on yourself to win.
But now that you've become famous overnight, the odds are definitely low, and you missed the first and second matches.
Yan Zheng was no longer calm. "You pigeon-toed idiot, why didn't you say so earlier? Now you're just babbling on and on, offering hindsight advice."
The translator repeatedly apologized, saying, "How about I lend you money to make up for my mistake?"
Yan Zheng gave him a mothball, saying, "I still have a wad of US dollars in my pocket, you have to make it up to me."
Yan Zheng carefully read the promotional brochure, and the translator explained anything he didn't understand. It turned out that Yan Zheng's opponent this time was also a famous general.
As for the name, the translator said that even if Yan Zheng was told a hundred times, he still wouldn't remember it. Why bother remembering such a long name?
The odds? 46. Yan Zheng 4, he 6. Without hesitation, he bet on himself. 10,000 Chinese yuan can be exchanged for 150,000 Japanese yen, right? He bet it all.
The translator couldn't help but scoff. He was already showing off with only 150,000; he himself would have to invest at least 300,000.
A week later, Yan Zheng won the competition with an absolute advantage, and of course, he also won a considerable amount of money.
Four times 150,000 is 600,000, but Yan Zheng looked at the 400,000 in his hand and realized that 200,000 was missing.
The translator quickly explained that no matter how much you bet, 200,000 would be deducted from each bet as their operating capital.
Yan Zheng was thinking about how many people were massaging him, applying medicine, feeding him water and medicine, and how many beautiful cheerleading girls were there.
Including all my equipment and services, 200,000 Japanese yen is really not expensive.
However, the translator is right. We should invest more in the future and at least earn back the 200,000 yuan.
"Lend me 600,000 next time," Yan Zheng said without any politeness.
The translator nodded repeatedly, realizing he had earned far more than that amount this time; he had to appease this Chinese man.
After three underground boxing matches, Yan Zheng earned nearly ten million Japanese yen for himself, but he also spent half a month in the hospital.
He's in the same boat as Lao Gui now, with seven or eight broken ribs and a ruptured spleen; the two brothers are suffering from the same ailment.
The boss was determined to save Yan Zheng this time, and he even asked the hospital to use the best medicine so that Yan Zheng would not have any aftereffects.
Yan Zheng enjoyed free medical care without any pressure, and even he earned nearly ten million Japanese yen. That boss, on the other hand, earned hundreds of millions.
Having made so much money, wouldn't it be unfair and contrary to the boss's benevolence not to give some back?
Life went on like this, and four months later, Lao Gui and Yan Zheng were fully recovered. They went to school in the morning and returned to work at the casino in the afternoon.
Their living conditions have also improved dramatically. They have moved from basements to small bungalows. Don't underestimate these ordinary bungalows; they won't crush people to death during an earthquake.
Yan Zheng would fight in underground boxing matches almost every month. He made full use of the skills and knowledge he had learned, fighting more and more fiercely, and betting bigger and bigger stakes.
Until the very end, whenever Yan Zheng appeared, almost no one would accept the challenge. Knowing full well that they would lose both their reputation and their money, why would they recklessly accept the challenge?
The boss sighed, wondering if he should find another general. He glanced at Old Ghost, who rolled his eyes. "Why bother making money when you have food and drink?"
The boss saw in his mind's eye that Old Ghost had been beaten to death by the black man, and then the black man had been beaten to death by Yan Zheng, and he shuddered, no longer daring to think about Old Ghost.
Time flies. Yan Zheng and Lao Gui have been living in Japan for two years now. They have learned about everything they need to know and have done most of the things they need to do.
Because Lao Gui is good at calculations, he always manages to earn a sum of money, neither too big nor too small, every six months, which he uses for his and Yan Zheng's Hu Tianhaidi.
As the saying goes, "He who hunts geese all day will eventually be pecked blind by them." While Old Ghost was having fun at a bar, someone put a sack over his head and robbed him of all his money.
Fortunately, these people were greedy for money and didn't care about their lives. They ran away without a trace after robbing the money. When the old ghost untied the sack, there wasn't a single ghost in sight except for the lampposts.
With no other option, he went back to the bar and called Yan Zheng. When Yan Zheng heard that Lao Gui had been robbed, he almost choked.
The translator has a small, dainty Volkswagen Beetle, which he keeps parked in the casino's basement.
Yan Zheng asked the translator to borrow the car from Lao Gui. The translator readily pulled out the keys, not realizing that Yan Zheng had never learned to drive.
So what if he hasn't studied it? He saw everything the translator did while driving. Even if he hasn't eaten pork, he's still seen pigs run.
He started the engine, and Yan Zheng, recalling the translator's every move, finally drove the car out.
Seeing Lao Gui sitting at the bar entrance from afar, I carefully parked my car, got out, and walked over.
Old Gui's face was covered in bruises, and even his lips were broken, but thankfully his teeth weren't broken.
Just as they were about to speak, they heard a loud bang. Looking towards the source of the sound, they saw that the Beetle had crashed straight into a telephone pole, its front end dented.
Yan Zheng was dumbfounded. Hadn't he already turned off the engine? This car was acting strangely; he could still drive it.
Old Ghost scoffed and pointed to the road, saying, "You definitely didn't release the handbrake. Look at this road, it's downhill."
Yan Zheng smiled wryly: "How can this car be so weak? It can't even withstand a crash into a telephone pole. How can it guarantee anyone's life?"
Old Gui was having a bad day and was in a bad mood, so he retorted directly: "Is your head as sturdy as a telephone pole?"
The two chatted back and forth, but neither of them thought about getting the car back.
Suddenly, Yan Zheng kicked the old ghost: "Did you hear that sound?"
Old Ghost kicked back: "What a load of crap! You just want to bully me and laugh at me."
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