Xiang Yu pulled down his sleeve, and only then did Hong Jinbao bring over the tools prepared to tattoo words on Xiang Yu.
"Hold on, you're not the one doing it, are you?" Xiang Yu said with a face full of horror.
"Don't move, I used to be a professional tattooist," Hong Jinbao whispered.
"Come on, I haven't seen anyone using a big knife to tattoo words on someone," Xiang Yu said, puzzled.
"Stop talking nonsense, hurry up," Hong Jinbao said, looking serious, then took a dagger ready to write on Xiang Yu's arm.
Xiang Yu was speechless; this Hongmen ritual was really kind of twisted. But on second thought, it was normal. The old gangs always fought and killed, and tattooing words on the body was a habit of many gangs.
Firstly, it could serve as proof, showing that one was part of Hongmen. Secondly, it could demonstrate that the tattooed person was a real man.
"Hold on, I feel like I wrote it wrong," Hong Jinbao said to himself doubtfully.
