After he had stuck the three cigarettes into the ground, wisps of white smoke curled up and filled the air.
Zhao Jun pressed his lips together. He took the last cigarette from behind his ear, lit it, and placed it in his mouth before finally handing the matchbox back to Tao Dabao.
Zhao Jun smoked quickly. Once the cigarette had burned down, he turned to Li Baoyu and said, "Baoyu, let's go. We're heading back."
"Brother…"
"Let's go back," Zhao Jun said again, patting Li Baoyu's shoulder. Then he turned and walked away without looking back.
When Zhao Jun and Li Baoyu caught up with the main group, the militiamen were already carrying the Tiger toward the horse-drawn sleds.
But when they were still more than five hundred meters away from the sleds, the horses pulling them suddenly panicked.
However, Tao Dabao had given instructions to the sled drivers before they came, so they had tied the reins securely. No matter how much the horses bucked, they couldn't break free.
