After a while, feeling uneasy, he called Song Xiaodong again.
"Mr. Song, I've already seen Chen Yong and his people. They seem to have brought in a lot more people from somewhere, all carrying machetes. It looks like they're really going to chop me down! Mr. Song, please save me!"
"Have some backbone, I'll be right there."
12 o'clock at night.
Chen Yong led a group of seventy to eighty people to Chen Zixu's nightclub.
Chen Zixu was afraid of causing a big scene, so the nightclub wasn't open for business at all.
Chen Yong was nearing forty, strong and robust, with a long scar on his face, looking fierce and aggressive.
"Oh my, Brother Chen, you brought so many people to my little place, there's not enough room for everyone!" Chen Zixu's face turned pale, and sweat dripped from his forehead.
"Cut the crap; these two venues are ours from now on, get lost, or we'll leave your limbs here."
