"Oh! Boss, you're awake!"
Yuan Qinghua stared at Xu Yi, sitting coldly on the edge of the bed, and was so startled he nearly spilled the bowl of medicinal soup onto the floor. He hurried over to the bedside and said anxiously, "Lie down, lie down! The doctor said your internal organs were badly injured. You need to rest."
Before he had finished speaking, Xu Yi snatched the bowl from him and hurled it out the window. "Rest my ass! I gave myself these injuries. Don't I know how bad they are? And you, you little fool—how could you have so little sense? You left me to rot in the clinic and slipped off on your own!"
"What? You gave yourself those injuries? What do you mean? Oh! I get it now!"
Yuan Qinghua slapped his thigh. His eyes went wide, and he jabbed out a thumb. "Brilliant, brilliant, Boss! That move of yours was higher than the viewing stands at Ascending Dragon Platform—it practically poked a hole in the sky! Hahaha, so they're fake injuries? Absolutely marvelous. A million people saw it with their own eyes. The gambling houses can't muddy the waters this time, and there's no way they can keep your odds low. We're guaranteed to make a killing!"
Yuan Qinghua was right. Xu Yi had faked his injuries to drive up his odds. Making money was never easy for him, and chances like this were rare. After risking his life and working so hard, he'd be a fool not to cash in.
The gambling houses were shrewd, though, and had set absurd odds. So Xu Yi had simply spat up a few mouthfuls of blood in front of a million spectators. Let's see them manipulate his odds now. That way, Xu could make a little extra