"Yeah, things are gonna get a lot tougher from here on out," Wang Hu said, lighting a cigarette and leaning back in his chair with a sigh.
"Yeah, sometimes nothing comes your way, and other times, problems pile on one after another," Song Yun replied, legs propped up on the conference table. "Money's hard to make, shit's hard to eat; in today's society, if you want to make money, you can't afford not to be tough on yourself."
"True that. Our line of work brings in money fast, and we strut around looking all grand, but who knows the hardships we endure?" Wang Hu said. "When you're small-time, you've got no income; when you're big-time, you have to be on guard for traps all day, every day. Even going out for fun requires a look around to avoid setups. Having fun with this stuff, it's a skill—requiring not just brute force but also a clear head."
"Hahaha, have you gotten past the age where your blood runs hot?" Song Yun laughed.
