Two men, looking utterly disheveled, fled out of Fish Alley, their panic-stricken appearance as though a ferocious tiger was chasing them.
Under the cover of night, they bypassed two alleys and ducked into a dilapidated house.
Inside, the furnishings were sparse, and a scar-faced man sat broodingly by the table.
Upon seeing the two enter, he forced a smile: "It's good you're alright."
The two men exchanged glances, their humiliation and rage vanishing by half.
To them, the scar-faced man who had abandoned them earlier in the face of danger seemed entirely disloyal, forgetting all former oaths.
But thinking from another perspective, if they were the scar-faced man, facing a Martial Artist's threat, they might not have fared any better—maybe even fled faster.
So let's not begrudge each other, brother!
"Take a seat, all of you."
The scar-faced man lifted a jar of wine from under the table, pouring a bowl for each of them: "Have a drink to steady your nerves."
